The Black Briefcase

Ethan stood behind Alexander, shielding him from the explosion, but his friend's fate was sealed as he died instantly without uttering another word.

As the dust cloud settled, Ethan stood up, dusting off his black jacket. "Well, this is a mess."

Blood covered his face and body, with Alexander's remains splattered all over him. The situation was chaotic, enough to drive anyone mad.

"Good thing I didn't follow that idiot." Ethan murmured, looking somewhat dazed.

The hallways and walls, which had been intact just moments ago, were now blown apart. The cold wind seeped through the open cracks, snapping Ethan out of his drug-induced stupor taken before the journey began.

"And to think these idiots came for me. I guess I'm not too important to the others." Ethan mocked himself.

Blowing up a bomb strapped to a corpse isn't something a mere kidnapper would do. He figured whoever orchestrated this was determined to kill Alexander at any cost, using unimaginable methods.

"I sacrificed my happiness for these bastards who die for a few thousand dollars, and they've ruined my morning."

As Ethan wiped his face in frustration, he sighed, feeling that today was a bad day. Death, blood, and unexpected events are always signs of a bad day.

"I don't enjoy killing people, but it's their misfortune to cross paths with me on my temporary retreat." Ethan murmured, crouching to open his briefcase and retrieving a double-barreled shotgun.

Alexander was completely obliterated by the explosion. The only thing undamaged was his briefcase, which Ethan took to see what was so important that someone would send an assassin.

Walking towards the corridor where the explosion occurred, Ethan peered through the large hole towards the other carriage. The outside was gloomy, with cold and light rain adding to the eeriness of the season, making the surroundings even more familiar to him.

"A rainy day is the second sign of a bad day for work, but I shouldn't waste time, or I won't reach the appointed time."

Had he known in advance, he could have prepared and traveled by helicopter, despite it being more conspicuous, but unexpected situations always arise.

Alexander was dead—a man with clear ideas about current society. Ethan couldn't say he became friends with him, but he certainly liked him a bit.

But with more people to kill, he couldn't afford to relax.

Knowing these guys weren't common thieves, the risk had multiplied several times, and knowing the danger, Ethan didn't want to get involved as it wasn't worth it. If they all used bombs, even this sturdy train, still in motion, could derail.

'Maybe they also want to confuse the police by derailing the train...' Ethan thought, increasingly irritated by the unfortunate events he was caught up in.

Having made up his mind, he headed back to the carriage. Just then, the door of the neighboring carriage opened, and a very nervous ticket collector appeared.

"What? Sir, are you okay? What is this?" The man was stunned to see Ethan covered in blood, carrying a guitar case on his back and a briefcase in his left hand.

"I'm Ethan Winchester from the FBI. Have you located the attackers?" Ethan asked calmly.

The man glanced down at Ethan's identification badge on his chest, which had been placed earlier to avoid any confusion about his identity.

"They're in the front carriages."

"Yes, the attackers are targeting the control room. We should move the passengers to the rear carriages and wait for the police to handle it." Ethan murmured, surveying the situation.

"Most of the passengers have been evacuated to the back of the train."

"That's good."

Ethan approached the man and handed him the black briefcase, then said, "Follow me closely and guard this briefcase with your life. It's of utmost importance. You'll be rewarded if we survive this."

"Wouldn't it be better if I stayed with the other passengers?"

Ethan's instincts kicked in, and he realized something. He turned around and pointed his gun at the man's head, nearly being deceived.

"Why, why are you doing this?"

"Did you think such a poor act would fool me?"

"Who are you?" The man looked at Ethan, perplexed. If it had been anyone else, his words might have dispelled their doubts, but not with this FBI agent.

"I thought something was off. How is it possible for those people out there to locate a damn analog train? Don't mess with me; someone must be selling the information."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's practically impossible to know where that man was without someone inside the train acting as a locator." Without hesitation, Ethan shot the man in front of him.

Bang!

Blood splattered on Ethan's face once again, making him curse the idiot behind all this.

But this time, he called the police, contacting the S.C.T. directly and requesting their immediate presence at his location, as he was under attack by a commando.

He wasn't as valuable as a member of other powerful exorcist families, but he was recognized as an important asset who had taken down valuable targets.

Within the hunter's circle, he was a living legend, a future hunter capable of taking down both the living and the dead.

"You need to get here quickly, or I'll leave you a mess with the targets. I don't give a damn about the code; I'll do what I have to." Ethan shouted before hanging up the call.