8mi Chapter 36: The Crowded Washroom
Chapter 36: The Crowded Washroom
In the lounge, Irving, whose eyes had been blinded again, lay sprawled on the sofa without any regard for his image. The delirious ramblings emanating from the out-of-control old man had dealt a severe blow to his fragile psyche.
He rubbed his forehead, looking at Sirion with a complicated expression. Although he didn't speak, the meaning in his eyes was clear:
"You've driven an extraordinary person to the brink of loss of control?"
Sirion shook his head decisively: "No, no, it's the influence of the idol in the safe."
"He must have been a 'Mystic' in the 'Prayer' path, and his mental state was unstable. Combined with my stimulation and the presence of the 'True Creator' statue, that's why he suddenly lost control."
As he spoke, he looked up at the ceiling above him and breathed a slight sigh of relief after confirming that the out-of-control guy did not intend to smash through the floorboards and come down to chase them.
An out-of-control Extraordinary is far more dangerous than a normal Extraordinary, especially since the other party clearly carries the pollution from the "True Creator".
At the same time, he heard hurried footsteps coming from the stairwell outside, rushing upstairs. Clearly, the loud noise and flash he had just made had alerted quite a few people.
"Monster!"
"save..."
boom!boom!
Soon, gasps of surprise and the sound of gunfire erupted from upstairs.
Cyril took out "Jacob's wallet" again. There were quite a few gold pounds and gold bars in the safe upstairs. As long as he wasn't too unlucky, he could always "take" some out after a few tries.
The next second, he pulled a handful of brass-colored bullets from his wallet.
Meanwhile, the gun in the hand of one of the unlucky guys upstairs suddenly stopped firing.
He glanced at it; there were no runes engraved on the bullets, just ordinary pistol bullets. He casually tossed them aside and then began to search for them again.
He then took out a stack of brand-new 5-pound gold coins, roughly estimated to be around 100, meaning he had easily gained 500 pounds with a simple touch.
After carefully putting away the gold coins, he excitedly reached into his wallet and began to rummage around.
He then received two crumpled 10-sol notes;
A fruit knife stained with blood and bits of flesh;
3 gold bars;
A stack of £1 banknotes;
A pair of red underwear with a hole in the back, still feeling warm to the touch;
.....
Half a minute later, the screams and gunfire from upstairs suddenly disappeared, leaving only a faint dripping sound, like a tap that hadn't been turned off.
Cyril stopped fumbling for Jacob's wallet, casually tossed the gold denture with vegetable scraps stuck to it into the corner, and then looked at Owen.
The latter had recovered after a short rest and was quietly tidying up the things that Sirion had taken out of that strange wallet, including two items that belonged to him: a citrine pendant and a white shirt.
After a second of silence, he simply spread out his shirt, threw on the useful gold bars and pounds, and then rolled it into a bundle.
boom!
Whoosh!
The sound of shattering glass suddenly rang out, and a black and red, flowing monster of flesh and blood crashed through the window and jumped in from outside.
Cyril reached out and pulled at the air, creating a dark curtain that covered the flesh-and-blood monster.
The next second, the "black curtain" lost control and turned into a writhing shadow that slapped at him.
"Damn it!" Sirion cursed without stopping, using his "object manipulation" ability to lift the coffee table next to him and place it in front of him.
bang~
The solid wood coffee table shattered with a crash, but at the same time, Cyril and Owen, who were behind the coffee table, had vanished, along with a bundle made of rolled-up shirts from the sofa next to them.
The dark red, fleshy monster paused for a moment, then surged toward the window it had just smashed.
On the first floor of the casino, in the same restroom as before, Cyril and Owen passed through the wall and bumped into a middle-aged man who was washing his pants.
Xi Ruien glanced at the man's face, then at the pants in his hand, and inexplicably understood the man's idea: as long as the pants were completely wet and then wrung out, no one would be able to tell that he had wet his pants earlier.
Both looked at each other awkwardly for a second, after which Cyril sincerely apologized:
"Sorry to bother you."
"You..." The middle-aged man who was washing his pants opened his mouth.
Just then, the bathroom door was opened from the outside, and a burly, hairy man angrily roared inside:
"Which son of a bitch locked himself in the bathroom? Doesn't he know this is a public place? You...you guys..."
Seeing three people crammed into the small space, one of whom had even taken off his pants, the burly man, who was originally furious, fell into a speech impediment.
After a long while, he backed away and closed the door, saying weakly, "Aren't you bothered by so many people? Uh, no, I mean, I'm sorry to bother you."
The bathroom door had just closed when he opened it again, looking at the three people inside with a conflicted expression.
"You guys hurry up, I can't hold it in any longer."
After saying that, he quickly closed the bathroom door again.
Once the bathroom door was completely closed, the middle-aged man in front of the sink finally came to his senses. He hurriedly put on his wet trousers, stepped back, and looked warily at Sirian and Owen, who had suddenly appeared behind him.
"What...do you want to do...?"
Looking at the empty washroom behind him, he looked around in disbelief, his face turning from red to white. Ignoring the fact that his pants were still dripping wet, he hurriedly ran out of the washroom, as fast as if a ghost was chasing him.
At the same time, he silently made up his mind that he would never come to this casino again, no, he would never go to any casino again.
Meanwhile, unaware that they had successfully persuaded a gambling addict to turn back from his slump, Cyril and Owen had already left the casino and were outside on the deserted streets.
Looking at the casino building that had suddenly become noisy, Owen asked worriedly, "What about that out-of-control Extraordinary?"
"Although most of the people here are gang members, there are also some ordinary people, and the out-of-control ones can move."
Sir Ryan: "Of course, let the professionals handle it."
Remembering what had happened before, Irving quickly asked, "Did you report it to the church again?"
"No need this time." Cyril shook his head slightly, took a step forward under Owen's questioning gaze, raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The continuous loud noises were like thunderclaps, accompanied by frequent blinding flashes of light, as if a powerful and extraordinary being from the Church of Storms was creating a thunderstorm here.
The high-frequency "loud noises" and "flashes" lasted for about 10 seconds. Realizing that he didn't have much spiritual energy left, Sirien lowered his raised hand and turned to look at Owen:
"Let's go back to the South District of the Bridge and visit the Harvest Church. After confronting the out-of-control individuals under the pollution of the 'True Creator,' it would be best to have the clergy perform a purification."
Just as Irving was about to nod, a soft murmur, as if whispering in his ear, suddenly echoed:
"The 'True Creator'?"
As the sound echoed, long, green vines, as thick as a baby's arm, hung down from all around, covering the surrounding area like a torrential rain.
They intertwined and quickly formed a forest, layer upon layer, with no top in sight.
In the blink of an eye, a swing made of interwoven green vines suddenly appeared in front of the two, with a chestnut-haired lady sitting on it with her legs crossed.
She was tall and exceptionally beautiful, wearing an Intis-style women's blouse over a brown patterned captain's coat, with off-white trousers and knee-high boots, dressed like the captain of a pirate ship.
As Sirion looked at the mysterious space formed by the intertwining green vines around him, and at the lady in front of him dressed like a pirate leader, a name suddenly popped into his mind: Bernadette.
The name had barely escaped his lips when the woman on the swing suddenly turned her head to look at him, her tone a mixture of amusement and seriousness:
"You seem to know me?"
"Uh..." Sirien was taken aback. He even began to wonder if the other person was a "spectator"... This was too perceptive, wasn't it?
Only after spending a long time with the "audience" will you realize that the Joker's control over facial expressions is a top-notch survival skill in this world.
Gathering his scattered thoughts, he looked at the lady sitting high up opposite him and shook his head slightly, saying:
"I don't know him, but I have a guess."