Chapter 13: The Show Begins

Little Red Riding Hood?

When Rhode heard the name, he couldn't keep a straight face anymore.

His expression became somewhat numb as he stared at the tall, leggy, black-stockinged dominatrix before him with a 36D figure.

You're telling me this is Little Red Riding Hood?

He couldn't figure out what part of this woman was "little."

"Wait a minute, my head's a bit messed up right now," Rhode said, rubbing his temples.

A grandmother in the forest, a mature and voluptuous Little Red Riding Hood, and those dangerous werewolves.

Where's the hunter?

If he's guessing correctly, it must be the village chief, right?

So, is this supposed to be a fairy tale?

This joke's a bit too much for him to handle all at once.

How did a perfectly fine magical world suddenly turn into a fairy tale world?

Man-eating werewolves, a sexy Little Red Riding Hood, and a scheming hunter.

This is supposed to be a fairy tale?

An adult fairy tale, no doubt!

Something felt very off—terribly off.

Rhode gently caressed the revolver at his waist, and his expression returned to its usual calm and cold demeanor.

Now, he was the one in control.

Who cares if it's a werewolf or a wolf disguised as Grandma?

Under the spray of a shotgun, everyone is equal.

If one shot isn't enough, then fire another.

Two shots to the chest and one to the head.

Even gods would shake their heads.

Now that his mood had settled, Rhode glanced at the "adult version" of Little Red Riding Hood.

"Let's go. We don't have much time."

He muttered quietly, looking toward the dark forest.

"Besides, I've got some serious business to take care of tonight."

Of course, by "serious business," Rhode meant hunting the werewolves in this forest.

Most werewolves are nocturnal creatures, making them hard to find during the day.

But once night falls, all the werewolves living near the village will come out.

When that happens, all Rhode needs to do is hunt them down, one by one.

After checking his ammunition stash in his personal space, Rhode was glad he had prepared well.

He had three whole boxes of shotgun shells, which had cost him quite a bit of money.

There might be a lot of werewolves in the forest, but even at their most numerous, there could only be a few dozen.

With his ammo reserves, he could afford to shoot each werewolf ten times and still have plenty left over.

"Kind big brother, I don't even know how to thank you!"

Little Red Riding Hood looked grateful as she led Rhode out of the village.

Thank me?

Rhode's gaze lingered on the enticing figure before him.

Wasn't this the best kind of thank-you gift?

There's no such thing as a free lunch.

There might be people who selflessly help others, but Rhode definitely wasn't one of them.

As they walked along the forest path, the dense foliage gradually dissipated the last remnants of heat from the day.

Rhode followed behind Little Red Riding Hood, heading toward her grandmother's house.

The familiar route confirmed his suspicion.

Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother was the old woman he had encountered last night.

"Quite the coincidence," Rhode muttered as he felt eyes watching him from the shadows.

His peripheral vision caught a glimpse, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Twenty minutes later, a wooden cabin came into view.

"We're here. That's where my grandmother lives," Little Red Riding Hood said cheerfully, pointing at the cabin.

Her innocent demeanor left Rhode feeling slightly conflicted.

Could this seemingly pure-hearted woman really be connected to the werewolves?

Rhode shook his head.

Given the time and place, it was hard to believe she wasn't involved at all.

Whether knowingly or unknowingly was the question.

Reaching the cabin, Little Red Riding Hood eagerly knocked on the door.

"Grandma, it's me, Little Red Riding Hood. Are you home?"

"It's Little Red Riding Hood? The door's unlocked. Come on in," a deep voice called from inside.

Without thinking much, Little Red Riding Hood pushed open the door.

Rhode, however, frowned.

That voice didn't quite match the old woman he had met last night.

"Something's not right."

His instincts on alert, Rhode cautiously followed Little Red Riding Hood inside.

The cabin wasn't large. In the corner stood a big bed covered by a thick quilt, beneath which was a human-shaped outline.

"Grandma, how are you feeling?" Little Red Riding Hood placed the fruit she had brought on the table and approached the bed with concern.

"I feel much better now that you're here. Did you bring a friend with you?" came the muffled voice from under the quilt.

"Yes, a kind big brother. He was worried about me being alone in the forest, so he came along to visit you," Little Red Riding Hood said with a bright smile.

"Such a kind person. Bring him over so Grandma can have a look," the voice replied, though this time it sounded a bit too eager.

Little Red Riding Hood turned to Rhode with hopeful eyes.

"Sure!"

"Grandma, you'd better take a good look."

A faint smile played on Rhode's lips as he approached the bed.

"So… delicious..." The voice under the quilt grew hoarse and raspy, as if something was being suppressed.

As Rhode reached the bedside, that suppressed voice finally erupted, turning rough and feral.

"So… delicious! I can't hold back anymore!"

Rip!

Sharp claws tore through the quilt, and a werewolf, dressed in a nightgown and covered in fur, leaped out from beneath the blanket.

Drool dripped from its fangs, and hunger filled its eyes.

But what greeted it was the twin barrels of a shotgun.

"I could smell your bloody stench and wolf odor from a kilometer away," Rhode said, narrowing his eyes and speaking with a cold, expressionless face.

Without hesitation, he fired two shots, directly hitting the werewolf in the chest.

The force of the blast sent the creature flying, crashing into the wall.

Click!

With a swift motion, Rhode reloaded the shotgun with two fresh shells.

Without missing a beat, he fired two more shots.

Boom! Boom!

One shot to the chest, one to the head.

The pellets scattered like a deadly spray, blowing apart the fragile wooden cabin.