dkrc Chapter 100: Piercing the Chest! Next up~
Chapter 100: Piercing the Chest! Next up~
Chapter 100: Piercing the Chest! Next One~
Saginaw is located in the northern part of the city, about fifteen miles from the city of Belgrade.
The main building of the Jin Family Manor is a three-story stone building in the Tudor style, with pointed roofs and lead-lined windows casting sharp, angular shadows in the moonlight.
In the bedroom on the east side of the third floor, Kim Saginaw lay on the down mattress, staring at the ceiling with his eyes open.
He has been back from Lansing for three days.
The celebration party at the club that night lasted until the early hours of the morning. He couldn't remember how many glasses of wine mixed with holy blood he drank or how many perfectly fried Gouda steaks he ate.
I only remember throwing up twice after I got home, and then I've been lying here ever since.
It felt like there was a small pile driver constantly working in my head, and my temples were throbbing with pain.
This is an old problem.
It's a trait inherited from being a blue-blooded noble.
My private doctor said I have a neurotic constitution and advised me to avoid excessive stimulation and stress.
But as a member of parliament, there are some occasions I have to attend.
For example, celebrating the successful nuclear bombing with Powell, Gilman and his gang.
A noise came from outside the window.
It was very soft, like the sound of a branch breaking.
Kim Saginaw's body tensed instantly.
He listened intently.
There was no follow-up.
It could be from the wind, or it could be from a nocturnal animal.
But he couldn't sleep.
This neurotic constitution caused him to overreact to any unusual noise.
Unless he is given a booster or gets himself completely drunk like he did a few days ago, the slightest disturbance will keep him awake until dawn.
He sat up and rubbed his face.
There was a water glass and a bottle of medicine on the bedside table.
Instead of reaching for it, he reached under his pillow and pulled out a Colt Python revolver.
The gun is in excellent condition, and the grip is a custom-made ivory plate engraved with the family crest.
He opened the magazine and inspected the bullets.
Six .357 Magnum rounds, fully loaded.
He closed the magazine again and held it in his hand.
The cool metallic touch calmed him down a little.
Then he heard a second sound.
This time it's not a tree branch.
It was the sound of gunfire.
It was stuffy, like it had a muffler, but it wasn't far away; it was probably in the courtyard outside the main building.
Jin's breathing stopped for a second.
impossible.
This is Jin family territory. There are twelve armed guards around the manor and six personal guards inside the main building.
The family controls the land for five miles around, and even the state police won't enter without permission.
But that redneck—
He recalled watching the live broadcast in Lansing these past few days.
The man named Carl Jensen not only survived the nuclear explosion, but also delivered a revenge speech in front of the ruins.
The report mentioned that this person was skilled in night raids and blitzkrieg tactics.
Several family strongholds in Detroit were swiftly taken down during the night.
Cold sweat seeped from Jin's forehead.
He threw back the covers and stepped barefoot onto the carpet.
The movements were very gentle.
I walked to the window, lifted a corner of the curtain, and looked outside.
Several landscape lights were still on in the courtyard, illuminating the outlines of the neatly trimmed shrubs and fountain.
No exception.
At least it's not visible to the naked eye.
But the gunshots just now were real.
He stepped back, gripped the revolver tightly, and walked toward the bedroom door.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and hesitated for a moment.
The hallway outside was quiet.
It's too quiet.
At this time of day, there should be guards on duty at the end of the corridor.
Even if they don't walk around, you can at least hear their breathing or the sound of clothes rubbing together.
There's nothing here now.
Jin's throat felt dry.
He released his grip and retreated to the center of the room.
The door cannot be opened.
If the outside is truly under control, opening the door would be suicide.
He turned and strode quickly toward the west wall of the bedroom.
There hangs a huge family portrait painting there, depicting his great-grandfather in 19th-century hunting attire, holding a double-barreled shotgun.
Jin reached out and pressed down hard on an inconspicuous carved decoration in the lower right corner of the picture frame.
A soft click.
The painting, along with the wall behind it, rotates inward to reveal a narrow passageway entrance.
Sensor lights in the passageway automatically turn on, illuminating the steps that extend downwards.
This is a standard feature of all large family mansions: an escape tunnel.
It leads to the underground parking garage, where armored vehicles with full tanks of gas are always kept on standby.
Jin breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to step inside.
Just then, there was a knock on the bedroom door.
Knock. Knock.
Two strokes, neither too light nor too heavy, with a steady rhythm.
Jin froze.
He slowly turned around, pointing the gun at the door.
"Who?"
He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
A reply came from outside the door: "Steward Swazi, sir. We have been attacked and may not be able to hold out any longer."
The voice was familiar; it was indeed the steward, Watts.
But Kim did not let his guard down.
He kept his eyes on the door as he continued to back away towards the entrance of the secret passage.
"Okay! Who attacked us!"
He raised his voice while taking a step back.
Just take two more steps back, and you'll enter the secret passage. Close the hidden door, and even if someone outside has the key, they won't be able to open it.
There was a two-second silence outside the door.
Just as Jin was about to retreat into the secret passage, he bumped into something.
It's not a wall.
It is warm, firm, and has a human-like feel.
A hand reached out from behind and covered his mouth.
With his other hand, he wrapped it around his right arm and gripped the wrist holding the gun, so tightly that it made his finger bones go numb.
The revolver slipped from his hand and fell onto the carpet with a dull thud.
A voice whispered in his right ear, deep and calm: "It's me, Carl Jensen."
Jin's pupils dilated instantly.
He tried to struggle, but the hand covering his mouth pressed down on the back of his neck, rendering him immobile.
He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest.
Then a hand reached out directly from his chest.
My strength began to wane.
My vision became blurry.
Before his consciousness completely faded, he heard the voice say again, "The first one."
Then darkness surged up and swallowed everything.
The bedroom returned to quiet.
Karl released his grip, letting Kim's body slide onto the carpet.
He bent down, picked up the Colt revolver, examined it, and tucked it into the holster behind his waist.
He then walked to the entrance of the secret passage, glanced at the steps inside, and turned to the doorway, saying, "All cleared. Notify Jones to take control of the main building. Get the technical team in to locate the basement and vault."
A reply came from outside the door: "Understood."
Carl took one last look at Kim Saginaw lying on the floor before leaving the bedroom.
In the corridor, two Blessers were dragging two Gundams dressed in guard uniforms into the room next door.
Several dark red drag marks were left on the floor.
Outside the window, the battle in the manor courtyard had ended.
Six guards lay dead in their respective spots, some by the fountain, others by the hedge.
All were fatal with a single blow, leaving no extra wounds.
James Jones stood in the middle of the courtyard, using a flashlight to examine the equipment of a corpse.
Seeing Carl emerge from the main building, he straightened up: "The perimeter is cleared."
"Okay, let's go, next place."