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Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

For a long time, Malin always felt that Fate had been quite generous to him. Although he had to face that life-threatening job every day, as long as he had the lovely Leopard Girl cooking delicious food for him daily, and as long as there was meat to eat and cats to stroke, life wasn't too unbearable. Working a bit harder and facing some difficulties on the job weren't really an issue for a man. Moreover, being able to live two lives meant one shouldn't have too high demands, right, Mr. Different-Kind? Having said that, and without waiting for an answer, the young man snapped his fingers, and the white flame on his fingertip lit the tobacco in his other hand, then he flicked it towards the non-human entity on the stake. Welcome to Abield, to witness the last splendor of the steampunk era. And the madness.

Half-step Purgatory · SF
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585 Chs

Section 4: Facing the New World (Part 2)

Malin halted his steps, and Maya, puzzled, meowed inquisitively, making Malin instantly realize an issue — Maya's sense of smell was actually inferior to his own?

Impossible, every day when Gaiate came home, it was Maya who first detected him. Before Malin could hear the footsteps, she would already be standing by the door, urging her brother to join her in welcoming their father's return.

He had even asked Maya how she knew Gaiate was coming back.

"I smelled it."

Each time, she would reply with such pride.

But this time, she had been bested by her brother, which might sound like a changing of roles, but to Malin, it signaled that danger lay ahead.

She hadn't smelled anything, whereas he had smelled something... and that was not good news.

"Malin, what's wrong?" Maya pushed the cart, noticing that her brother hadn't moved, and he extended his hand, grabbing her wrist.

This alerted her — not because of the action of her brother grabbing her wrist, but because she recognized the gravity of the situation from Malin's serious expression, "Is it... dangerous?"

Malin nodded. When he was reborn into this small body, he had self-taught the common language of this world, but for some reason, his accent was quite heavy. Gaiate could more or less understand it, but Maya was somewhat at a loss, so, at this time, Malin simply nodded in response to her question.

Getting this answer, Maya's nose twitched twice, then she looked ahead with some confusion, "I don't smell anything."

In Malin's olfactory system, the scent of blood was becoming increasingly potent.

Letting go of the cart, Malin grabbed Maya's hand, "Come." This was one of the few words whose odd pronunciation matched the reading, and Malin, with his sharp ears, dragged his sister and turned to run.

"The cart! The jerky! And the bread!" Though reluctant, Maya still let go of her hand, choosing to trust her brother as the little Leopard Girl was led away in a run. Making a turn at the corner, both Malin, who looked back, and Maya, who kept watch behind them, saw a thin humanoid figure emerging from the alley.

The pitch-black long hair trailed on the ground; the small body was hunched, holding a short sword in the left hand with no blood on it, but the right hand dragged remains covered with scratches.

Malin felt every pore in his body burst open, each cell screaming to control his host to get away from here as fast and as far as possible.

"Why run away?" a voice echoed in Malin's head.

Maya stopped, and so did Malin.

The Cat Girl began to cry, completely immobilized, "I can't move! Run!" she shouted.

"Where could I run to?" Malin said with a wry smile.

He was a full head shorter than his sister. If he ran away now, it wouldn't take Gaiate — Malin himself would want to strangle himself to death.

And the thin humanoid figure, like a housewife seeing discounts at a store, a girl spotting her lover, or a sweetheart receiving a gift, jogged forward with small steps towards Malin. She tossed the prey in her right hand, and from beneath the slits in her long hair, bloodshot eyes fixated on Malin.

"The sweetest meat! Don't go!"

The voice in his head was euphoric, matching its equally frenzied movements — the short sword held high in a reverse grip, blade pointed at her prey, the terrifying being approached Malin with a shrill laugh, getting closer and closer. The nearer she got, the more clearly Malin could see the madness beneath the tawny long hair. The humanoid figure reached him and thrust down with the sharp blade in hand.

The sword thrust in at an angle; Malin sidestepped the blade, then grabbed her sword-wielding hand with both of his, pushing the short sword further into her abdomen.

The resistance was unexpectedly weak.

With that in mind, Malin gripped the monster's left hand tightly, slowly but firmly wresting ownership of the short sword into his hands, then he pushed sideways — the blade had entered the abdomen at an angle, and with force, he moved the blade while still contesting strength with the creature before him. Malin tilted his head up and swiftly headbutted the face of the creature in front of him.

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This will hurt, but damaging the opponent's nose bridge with a forehead blow is a worthwhile trade.

Of course, if one can manage to inflict the damage.

The monster before Malin shrieked in agony when attacked, momentarily losing strength in its hands that were contending with him.

So Malin slashed open its abdomen with his dagger, withdrawing the blade without regard for the filth splashing onto him, sidestepped the kneeling creature, plunged the dagger hilt-deep between its eyes with a spirited twist and pull, halting its wailing as the sharp dagger slickly buried itself into the face.

With a forceful twist of the hilt once more, Malin then released the dagger handle—the combat skills and grappling knowledge of old hadn't been forgotten. As the victor of the struggle, Malin wiped his bloodstained hand on the creature's withered blonde hair, then casually pushed it into the pool of blood it had produced.

Maya found herself able to move again. She watched Malin purse his lips, his tail at his mouth, yet he never bit down.

Malin smiled and reached out to hold Maya in his arms.

"Don't be scared, brother is here."

The Leopard Girl, who had been silent the whole time, finally burst into tears.

...

Gaiate learned at the crime scene that his adopted son and daughter had become involved in the incident. Just before that, he had confirmed the identity of the spirit—The Cutter, an entity from the East. Although her physical strength barely posed a problem, her spiritual energy that could manipulate peoples' hearts with direct eye contact made her a lethal threat.

Anyone who didn't activate a Psychic Shield or spell formation in time had to face a willpower challenge. Those who failed would be stunned. It sounded simple enough. The Cutter was an easy target—if one were equipped with items enhancing willpower resistance, she could be easily dealt with. The catch was The Cutter acted almost silently, with an innate ability to counter detection, usually leading to a surprise encounter around corners.

In solo encounters, it was more or less a death sentence.

In a squad encounter, maybe one lucky individual could pass the test and then enjoy a joyful battle report: winner takes all.

But if it were his adopted children... Gaiate dared not imagine.

All he could do was follow the police officer who had brought the news and rush to the scene only to find... his composed adopted daughter and his adopted son, bound up by the Church staff.

Gaiate slowed his steps, stepping on something. The middle-aged Demon Hunter looked down to see The Cutter's corpse, his left foot squarely on her leg.

But now was not the time to be sentimental. The Demon Hunter approached the Church official in charge, "Why are you treating my adopted son like this?"

He didn't know what issue his adopted son had run into, a gruesome fact of this wretched world unknown to mortals.

"He killed The Cutter." The young man in charge, still signing documents, responded without looking back.

"That's better than The Cutter killing..." Gaiate's expression froze mid-sentence, then he turned again to look at the body. "Wait a second, you're saying my adopted son killed... The Cutter?"

"Yes, Lord Gaiate, your adopted son killed The Cutter. According to the scene and his own account, he was not controlled by her," the Church official turned to face Gaiate. "My lord, I think you might want to discuss with the heads of our orphanages how you pick up orphans. A child like that is something our Church might not come across in a hundred years."

"I, I just thought he was very pitiful at that time." Gaiate glanced at his adopted son, then turned to the official, "Since it was my child who killed The Cutter, why have you bound him up?"

Only then did the official look up, eyes shifting from the restrained boy to the tall man holding the rope. "Kane! I said to restrain the child! Not to tie him up!"

"How else would I restrain him, my lord!" the tall man immediately retorted.

The official and Gaiate fell silent for a moment, then both glanced at the Priestess holding the Cat Girl.

Realizing she was being watched, the young lady playing with a cat teaser looked quite embarrassed.

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