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Chapter 13 of 43

Chapter 12

12 min read3,109 wordsMature

Draft

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Bang, gunfire sounded.

Bang, 177 fell to the ground.

Blood splattered on the trees behind it, intertwined like a red spiderweb. You can see the big hole on the back of 177's head under the light. The blood is mixed with the brain, showing the pink likeness of a strawberry milkshake.

The gunfire dispersed on the empty street, and like a switch, the lights of many windows lit up in dominoes. Within a few minutes, someone will open their window, panickedly inquiring or making a fuss, it would be like a firecracker being thrown in a dovecote. Within a few minutes, this broken body will completely turn into a corpse, a little movement will lead to unrecoverable loss.

At this moment, you calmed down completely, like how you did in the past.

Stationed priests have communicators in hand, it connects the broadcasts of each area and could warn others in times of crisis. You took out the communicator that you carried with you and switched to the public channel of this street's scope.

"Residents of Oak Street, I am Father Enoch Wilson." Your voice rang broadcasting in every household, solemn and steady, "A suspected demon attack has occurred in Oak Street. The priests are dealing with it, please, everyone, be sure to lock doors and windows, draw your curtains, and do not go out. Our Lord will bless the soul of the unbelievers in repentance. Please be sure to lock doors and windows, draw your curtains, and do not go out. "

The doors and windows were indeed locked again, the bolting sound of windows being lowered clicked clicked clicked. The curtains that had been drawn shook, and then they were drawn even more tightly. Most of the residents in the streets were awakened, but the number of lit windows didn't increase. On the contrary, there were even fewer now. Many people hurriedly turned off the lights, fearing that they would attract the devil's attention. You know there'll be many people praying all night tonight. Fear always kills curiosity.

You turn off your communicator and take off your rosewood rosary, you count from the cross till the seventh to the left and bite it away. The rosary is divided into two, and the white object only as large rice grain began to swell as soon as it was exposed to the air, turning into a pale finger bone. This was a bone of a blessed son. Only seven sons were born into the world every year. They must be martyred voluntarily before their bodies can be blessed. These consumables were so precious that even you received only such a small part, it was the only holy thing you took with you when you left the battlefield.

A holy relic that can bring the dead back to life.

There are many restrictions. It needs to be used within five minutes of death, and the corpse must be more than three-quarters intact, they must not be moved from their place of death. In addition, it also has very strict conditions on the user. You have met all those above conditions. The only thing you have to worry about is the holy nature of the blessed son's finger bone. It's a sacred object, can it be used to save a mixed-blood demon? You really don't like blindly pushing forward, however, can the situation even take a turn for the worst? 177 is dead, and it'll be pointless not to try.

You bite your finger and squeeze it, soaking the pale phalanx with blood. You place it on 117's forehead and recite the scriptures, you feel a mystic gravitational force coming from where you're holding the finger bone. Your left and right palms have begun to bleed, and your trousers were soaked with blood, you know that a round hole has appeared on your ankles. Criss-cross scars appeared on your forehead, wounds from wearing an invisible crown of thorns. The stigmata are deepening and didn't show any signs of subsiding. If you didn't have the power to control it, the wounds will continue to spread until you, like the owner of the finger bone, was slowly drained of blood.

Of course you can control it, and at this point, there was no need to even doubt.

The finger bone is broken into powder in your hands, you don't bleed anymore, and so did 177. Its broken head is healing quickly, as if a reverse button had been pressed in the process of fragmentation. You hold its head and comb its hair to prevent them from growing into the flesh and blood—in theory, the resurrection will command the flesh to exclude foreign objects naturally, but after all, this is the first time you have done this, it's better to be on the safe side. 177's long dark red hair is mixed with blood and plasma, slimy and dirty. If you don't wash it quickly, it'll clump again, just like when you first saw it.

You want to wipe its face clean, but your hands were likewise full of blood, it only became dirtier as you wiped. You quickly gave up.

It took a shuddering breath and began to respire again. The hand you put on its chest felt a heartbeat, thump thump, and you have never felt the sound so sweet.

You leave for a while, taking out the trolley again from your home and putting 177 inside it. Excessive blood loss has made you dizzy, it took a lot of effort to move 177 into the car, it's impossible to take it back only with bare hands. You cast onto the bloody tree the standard prayer for purifying evil spirits, turning all traces of blood into a handful of ashes. You use the communicator to disarm the alarm, went home and took a shower. You removed your bloody robe, cleaned the trolley, and conceived the contents of a report to be submitted. Shortly after this huge accident, everything seemed to be on the right track again.

But when you started cleaning 177, you discover something.

At the end of its tailbone, there was a long and thin tail, black, smooth, and arrow-shaped at the end. The tip of an adult demon's tail is a spear-like weapon. Only the newly born demons have such soft and blunt tails.

Resurrection won't cause broken limbs to grow again, and 177's tail surely didn't come from this. You suddenly realized that its tail had never been broken, it just didn't grow out.

Those suppressed chaotic abnormalities were opened at this moment and burst inside your mind.

177 persuaded the girl, it understood human social behaviour; it practised human habits; 177 stole clothes, it buttoned every button; 177 can talk, can operate a gun, it looks at street signs, it knows characters; traces of militarization; make a fist; the shop owner rejoices your purchase; 177 didn't know how to be afraid of holy water until you used it; dark brown to blood-coloured eyes; a new-born tail...

The showerhead slid from your hand and onto the ground, you go to pick it up, and you find that 177 had already woken up without you noticing.

"Who are you?" You said, "What are you?"

177 looked at you with blank eyes and a terrible expression. Of course, a guy who had just shot his head wouldn't be hearty and healthy. When you asked it this question, it blinked and opened its mouth dully...

You suddenly wanted to stop it at this moment, you didn't want to listen. You had a premonition that you wouldn't like its answer. Your back is covered in cold sweat, you're afraid and looking forward and seeing its face.

It said: "The Ninth Infantry Division, the 28th Marine Regiment, Company A..."

"Impossible!" You blurted out, "All the conscription offices have detectors, it's impossible for a half-blood demon to be enlisted!"

"Company A," It continued, "Lemuel Hardy, sergeant."

You muttered to yourself: "You're lying..."

It stopped speaking, just looked at the floor and closed its eyes. It seems that it hadn't intended to convince you at the beginning, it doesn't matter whether you believe it or not.

"You lied." You repeat, "It's all... you read the military card of a fallen soldier, you read it, didn't you?"

It didn't refute, you lifted it from the bathtub and shook it, forcing it to open its eyes and look at you.

"Answer me!" You commanded, "Who are you?"

It frowns, maybe it hasn't fully recovered and had the same headache as you. Realizing that you wouldn't give up on bothering him, he licked his dry lips and slowly said: "I was born in a southern county..."

A man named Lemuel was born into an ordinary family in the southern county.

The family is neither rich nor poor and maintains a decent quality of life. This family loves each other. When Lemuel was four years old, his sister was born, she was a very cute child and everyone loved her. Everything was fine until Lemuel's mother died in an accident.

Lemuel's father drank all the time, it started from grief, and then turned into a habit, he gradually squandered the compensation for the accident, and they were forced to move to a poor chaotic neighbourhood. He was indifferent to his children, except when there's no alcohol to drink, he'll beat his son then- at least he wouldn't beat his daughter, the little girl was very similar to their mother, this was the most fortunate thing in Lemuel's childhood.

Lemuel dropped out of school very early, anyway, he had no interest or talent in reading, so it was better to leave the money-making to his sister. He collected scraps, sold newspapers, and finally found his talent in fighting. He grew up very fast and was able to beat the older kids who came to rob him. By the time he turned thirteen years old, his father no longer dared to beat him. He's made a name for himself in the neighbourhood and was shown favour by some gangs. If things went on like this, he would've probably grown into a typical gangster.

One day, Lemuel went home and heard his sister screaming. He rushed into the room and saw his drunk father pressing on his ten-year-old sister, rubbing his fat fingers under her skirt.

There were wine bottles on the table. Of course, there were wine bottles everywhere in the house. However, the bottle on the table was very large. It wasn't the cheap variety but the kind that his father could drink only once in a while. Lemuel rushed over, grabbed the bottleneck, and smashed it down on the back of his father's head with all his strength.

The drunkard fell without a word, blood was flowing everywhere. Lemuel pulled his sister up, he hugged her and told her that everything was fine. Then he quickly searched for every penny their family had and left the city with his sister. Before leaving, he didn't confirm his father's life or death. In any case, they were orphans from that day on.

The fourteen-year-old brother and his ten-year-old sister wandered around the southern county for two years, they finally settled down in a small town near the front line. Compared with other places, areas close to the battlefield of the humans and demons were relatively cheap and friendly to exiles who didn't have documents for identity. Nevertheless, it was still far from a stable life.

They could live in poverty that way. Like many people Lemuel had seen, they could run around doing odd jobs every day, exhausting their energy and health without concern, struggling to barely afford food and clothing. Or, his smart sister can go to school, find a good job, live in a safe and comfortable place, and start a happy family with a good person who doesn't drink or get violent, someone that would treat her well— the latter needed money. A lot of money. How could they get the money? Someone asked Lemuel if his sister could sell it, and that man was beaten by him till he lost two teeth. Then someone asked Lemuel if he wanted to do some dirty work for others. Lemuel said he had to think about it.

Two wandering minors will cause a lot of trouble, and when compelled to do so, Lemuel stole, robbed, and even murdered. He stabbed scissors into a human trafficker's lungs. He used the robber's gun to make a hole in the robber's head. He got up from under the murdered robber and spit blood on the face of the corpse. He never felt sorry for it. But killing in self-defence was one thing, taking the initiative to kill an innocent person was another. Lemuel imagined shooting at an innocent person. For example, a teenage girl who had never done anything bad and should've lead a good life... he couldn't imagine it.

Lemuel's sister was smart and kind, such a person shouldn't have such a callous brother. Lemuel's mother said before her death that he should be a good person, he wasn't a good person, but at least he can not be a bad person.

In the spring of the next year, Lemuel entrusted his sister to his buddies, lied about his age, and went to the conscription office. The war with hell required a lot of soldiers and provided a lot of subsidies. Even if he died in the first year, the pension would be enough to support his sister all the way through college. He didn't think he'd die so early, he was skilled at fighting, to be precise, he had an extraordinary talent for culling.

And indeed he did.

He escaped time and time again, from a low-level soldier with no background to a sergeant. If it weren't for some problems with interpersonal relations and teamwork, his military rank could've been even higher. Lemuel didn't mind that much. He had never been to a military school or a missionary school. He had no faith. He was fighting only for money, and he didn't plan to stay in the military forever. He's been fighting on the front line for ten years. His sister skipped grades and has become an elementary school teacher. His buddies started a small business and made a lot of money. With the help of his funding, he finally opened the flower shop he dreamed of. The two got married, and for the sake of their happiness, Lemuel let go of his friend for the time being.

"Retire, brother!" said his sister. "We already have enough money to support you as you did for us."

This wasn't the first time his sister had persuaded him, but this time was different. The flower shop was on the right track and his sister was pregnant. Lemuel had the idea of retiring, but stalled it for another year, he thought that he still needed a lot of money for his sister and brother-in-law to have the funds to move away from this small town. It was probably because of nervousness from fighting demons for many years, he always felt that this place was too close to the front line. Perhaps when his nephew or niece reaches their first birthday, he could persuade them to move to a safer place.

Two months before retiring, Lemuel saw his sister in the news. Because of a mistake with the new demon expelling weapon, a part of the demon army broke through the line of defence and raided a small town thousands of miles away from the frontline. The fires of hell burned down the town and no one survived.

His sister, friends, their child, the children in the school, the helpers in the flower shop, all the people in the town, none of them survived.

An hour after learning the news, the barracks ushered in another wave of demonic attacks.

It could be seen from many signs that Lemuel wasn't a calm person. He can think calmly most of the time, but once the blood rushed to his head, he wouldn't care about anything. He raised the wine bottle over his father, slammed his neck against the butcher knife. He did it before thinking, regardless of the consequences, it was the same at that time. When they were supposed to retreat, Sergeant Lemuel broke off from the team like crazy, rushing towards the demons with a large amount of explosives.

He didn't want to die, he just didn't want any demons in front of him to live. If he could, he wanted to drag down the entirety of hell with him.

Hell avenged him.

In fact, there were no reproductive barriers between humans and demons. Demons have amazing reproductive power and could produce offspring with most mammals and many reptiles. The looks and habits of most hybrid offspring were biased towards demons and compel them to join the demon army. But there was also a very, very small possibility of mixed-blood offsprings with dormant demon blood to successfully hide and multiply among humans. The demon blood of the offspring will gradually become thin enough to be detected.

Until it's stimulated.

Lemuel wasn't dead, he woke up again and all his wounds have healed, there were no fewer parts on his body, but more.

Lemuel, who awakened under the stimulus of death, turned into a demon in the barracks.

"My sister's name is Maria, her husband's name is Fern, and their children, the boy name is Edward, and the girl name is Rita. I don't know which one it is, they should've been born. Maria said she wanted to give me a surprise, she wanted to tell me after I got back... damn." It—he bit his tongue and said abruptly, "I want to smoke a cig."

He raised his eyes to look at you.

He raised his eyes to look at you. You don't know why he asked you for a cigarette, but you, your stomach was upset, and when he said the last sentence, you seemed to be kicked hard. You let go of him, stood up abruptly, and threw up in the sink. Your stomach is very uncomfortable, like it's filled with ice cubes and failing from the cold.

Even after you vomited, he's still looking at you. His expression is dull, he seems to be too lazy to turn his eyes away. You rushed out of the bathroom and fled.

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PastTimer: I'll keep updating this once I get the time, I'm quite busy now but not as stressed as before. In the meantime, please enjoy this chapter, what a plot twist, huh?