After dealing with the troublesome variables, I reached inside my coat and stored the revolver.
Now that the players had weapons, they'd handle the black apostles. The Fifth Fable's genre had shifted from horror to all-out survival.
At least the executioners were dead, so there be any more trouble from them.
Now, there was only one thing left.
"W-what?"
A shocked voice emerged Infront of me.
Short hair, tanned skin and a slender figure. For some reason, her face was blurry like a glitch in a video game.
It was the same familiar phenomenon I experienced in my younger days when I used to view the people around me as mere background characters.
Why was this happening now? There was no definite answer.
The woman looked over her body with an expression filled with shock and disbelief. The revolver was fired, but there was no visible bullet wound. That was because the bullet landed on the ground besides her feet instead.
