Chapter 95: Welma vs. Willard
Meanwhile… one hour earlier.
Inside a car parked outside the Old Oak Café, Ethan Blake opened the door and settled into the front passenger seat.
Soon after, a masked person dashed out of the café, clearly panicked, with more masked figures chasing after him.
Sarah, watching from the car with wide eyes, asked, "Master, what's going on? Are they performing a show?"
Ethan replied in a low voice, "They're killing someone."
"Killing?!"
Sarah's tone rose noticeably as she stared at Ethan, asking, "Aren't we going to do something?"
Ethan turned his head away, his expression unreadable. "No. We can't get involved. Let's go to the northern district."
Ethan's perspective had shifted over time.
He had once told Giovani that even if he joined the Guild, he would still arrest him if he broke the law. But now, witnessing an open pursuit and attempted killing, Ethan felt a stir within him, yet remained unmoved.
In this world, who could really say what justice or evil truly meant?
A line had been drawn between Ethan's principles and the Mercenary Guild's rules. Over the past few months, this line had gradually shifted, moving closer to his principles, until only a single boundary remained.
Sarah started the car and drove toward the northern district.
Ethan predicted that Willard would be there.
The northern district had once been Willard's territory, and the surveillance system there was currently unreliable.
Thus, the northern district was the ideal hiding spot for Willard.
As he navigated his thoughts, Ethan calculated Willard's movements, almost like a finely tuned machine.
By the middle of the night, Ethan finally found a lead.
The car stopped in front of an abandoned building. Rolling down the window, Ethan lit a cigarette.
"He's up there."
Ethan's innate ability was heightened perception; his instincts were rarely wrong.
Sarah asked, "So, Master, are we going to arrest him?"
Ethan shook his head. "Leave it to Director Welma. We have more important matters."
Finding Willard would serve as an answer to the Security Bureau and Welma.
Though Willard was only at an E-rank, the fact that he had killed ten officers suggested he likely had accomplices.
Ethan wasn't sure if he and Sarah could take them on, so it was better to let Welma handle it.
Welma probably wanted to personally deal with her enemy.
Recently, Ethan had been investigating someone known in the underworld as the "Starving Ghost."
This individual was likely the young Mercenary who had been selling illegal drugs at Giovani's factory.
The Starving Ghost had grown increasingly notorious, leaving evidence of his deeds everywhere. Numerous awakened individuals had gone missing after encounters with him.
After analyzing the Starving Ghost's psychology, Ethan was shocked to discover that the man cared nothing for money; he was simply bent on revenge against society.
Given that, even if he was a Mercenary Guild member, Ethan would show no mercy.
Besides, the Guild didn't seem to care about infighting among Mercenaries — it wasn't part of the "rules."
Ethan had been in a battle of wits with the Starving Ghost for some time now.
Unfortunately, the Starving Ghost was too cunning, and Ethan hadn't found any useful leads so far.
Early morning, in a luxury apartment in Bluewater City.
Welma sat on the floor, leaning against a cold wall, surrounded by empty bottles.
At this moment, she cursed her A-rank talent and her eight levels of innate spiritual energy.
Because her spiritual energy was so high and her talent so powerful, she couldn't get drunk.
"I shouldn't have sent you to catch Willard. You'd be so much happier right now."
"Little fool, are you mad at your big sister? It's been two days, and you haven't come to me in a dream."
"Your big sister misses you."
Welma hugged her knees, burying her face as she cried helplessly.
Then her phone rang.
She scrambled to the bedside, grabbing it eagerly — it was a message from Ethan!
It was a location.
The coordinates pointed to an abandoned building in the northern district.
Ethan added a note, warning her that there might be a high-level awakened individual there and that the Security Bureau's task force was on standby.
Welma didn't reply. Her eyes blazed with vengeance.
In the dim morning light, Welma looked like a ghostly figure.
She rushed downstairs, jumped into her red sports car, and sped off. She didn't even grab her jacket, still in her Security Bureau uniform and boots, and left her phone behind.
At an abandoned building in the northern district.
Inside, it was dark and cold, with an eerie atmosphere.
In a relatively clean room, a man sat cross-legged in the darkness, a book placed before him.
The title read, Merlin's Magic Core Formation.
After the incident, Willard had rarely left this hideout, fearing discovery. He stayed here, focusing solely on his training.
Willard knew Ethan Blake's abilities too well — any slight movement, and Ethan would pick up his trail.
Hunger gnawed at him as he glanced at the faint light of dawn outside.
"It should be safe to go grab some bread now," he muttered, getting up and heading out.
As he stepped into the hallway, the rumble of a car engine reached him from downstairs.
He quickly peered over the edge and froze in terror when he saw who it was.
"Welma! She's found me!"
Despite all his mental preparation, the fear Welma instilled in him was bone-deep.
This woman was truly relentless.
Seeing her enter the abandoned building, Willard's gaze darted around in panic.
"Damn it! Who do you think you are, acting all high and mighty?!"
"I'm taking you down today!"
After a few heavy breaths, he slapped himself to stay sharp, then hid at the end of the corridor, ready to ambush her.
Welma's innate spiritual energy surged, chilling the air around her. Frost formed on the surfaces she passed, each step coating the floor in ice.
Her sensitivity to heat and cold was intense, like a snake's; she already had a good sense of Willard's location.
She didn't bother with caution and instead quickened her pace up the stairs.
An ambush? She didn't care.
This was the confidence of a true powerhouse.
As Welma reached the third floor, a black vine shot out from the shadows.
Without flinching, she condensed the air beside her into an ice mirror, blocking the attack.
Then, with fury, she retaliated in Willard's direction, launching three massive ice spikes.
Willard, panic-stricken, rolled away down the hallway.
Boom!
Looking back, he saw a gaping hole where he'd been seconds before, the northern wind howling through it.
Welma's face was a mask of icy rage as she demanded, "Willard, how did my brother die?"
Willard stared nervously at Welma.
The Security Bureau's warrior now stood right in front of him!
An ice spike formed at her fingertips as she advanced on him with the grace and ferocity of a stalking panther, her long, powerful legs bringing her closer with each step.
"You worthless scum. How did my brother die?"
The word "worthless" stung Willard deeply.
Since Welma had taken her position as Director of the Security Bureau, she had never respected him, treating him as a eunuch.
Her disdainful looks, the constant sneers of "worthless," had left Willard enraged but powerless.
Hearing that word again, memories of those contemptuous looks flashed before him.
With a crazed shout, he yelled, "I killed him! Yes, I killed Vincent! That idiot — I killed him, so what?!"
After screaming this out, his fear of Welma faded, replaced by a twisted enjoyment as he eyed her figure.
Seductive beauty, a uniformed allure, an abandoned building…
Dirty words and images surfaced in his mind.
His gaze grew lecherous.
"Your brother even said if I wanted to have a go at you, he'd help me. What do you need a brother like that for?"
Welma's fierce eyes widened, and the air became freezing, her murderous aura plunging the temperature further.
Snow began to fall within the abandoned building.
Slowly, an ice sword materialized in her hand as she declared coldly, "Willard, you're courting death!"
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