Act I: Faint Light in the Rainy Night
The light was rekindled at No. 6 Raven Street, where a thick layer of grey mist clung to the damp windowpanes.
Pinned firmly to the wall with a thumbtack was a slightly yellowed list of survivors—four hundred and twenty-seven names, not a single one missing. Although the Exorcist Public Security had taken over the altar in Shanghai, they had found no trace of Raven, nor could they trace where those final demon-ash crystals had flowed.
At the workbench, the lamp glowed dimmed yellow. Leila had disassembled her damaged dark-gold prosthetic hand down to its metal frame. Hundreds of gears and runic components were meticulously arranged by number, occupying the entire tabletop. Corvus sat silently to the side, wearing a leather protective lens over his right eye as he flipped through the Public Security’s investigation report. The dancing flames in the fireplace cast alternating light and shadow across his cold, sharp profile.
"No using the Demon-Slaying Cannon for at least six weeks," Leila said without raising her head, adjusting a miniature gear with her precision tweezers.
"Four weeks."
"Eight weeks."
"You just said six."
"When the patient haggles, the treatment is automatically extended."
"Caw—" From the windowsill, Claude let out a raspy, laugh-like cry, shaking his wings as if bolstering Leila’s strictness.
Corvus closed the report and looked out the window. The thick London fog pressed tight against the glass like a grey ocean that would never dissipate.
"Leila."
"Hmm?"
"Fix it faster."
Act II: Leopard Shadows on the Cobblestone
It was afternoon, and the streets of London were teeming with pedestrians.
Corvus walked along the mottled brick walls of Victorian-style buildings. The haunting residual magic from the Shanghai underground abyss—that foul stench woven of char and blood—felt stuck to his trench coat collar, impossible to wash away.
Suddenly, his sharp ears caught an extraordinarily unnatural friction sound.
It was the subtle noise of high-end leather ankle boots stepping on wet cobblestones—light, rhythmic, and completely out of place with the chaotic footsteps of the crowd around him. Like an embroidery needle dropped into boiling water, it was so jarring it sent a chill down his spine.
"Corvus, this scent... it’s too strong! It's definitely no ordinary low-level demon!" Claude burst out from his trench coat collar, his jet-black feathers standing entirely on end as his raspy warning echoed through the narrow alley.
"My dear Detective, missing the London rain so soon?"
A playful, lazy, and teasing woman's voice wafted softly from behind him, cold as a venomous snake silently slithering across the back of his neck. Corvus's eyes sharpened. Just as he was about to turn and draw his sword, a shadow swept past his cheek with a whistling gust of wind!
It was a woman clad in a sharply tailored black suit. She moved with the agility of a cat, her dark golden hair reflecting a dangerous metallic sheen under the gloomy sky. Amber Panthera—a high-risk demon registered with the Exorcist Public Security, belonging to a mysterious organization.
"Amber," Corvus growled the name through clenched teeth. His right hand instinctively tightened around the hilt at his waist, his knuckles turning white from extreme vigilance.
"Don't be so tense. I was ordered by the organization to deliver your 'final gift' personally," Amber said, tilting her head slightly as a bloodthirsty curve touched her lips. "Your dynamic vision is broad indeed; you can always pinpoint a demon's weakness in the middle of chaos... But Corvus, can you really keep up with my speed?"
Act III: Absolute Speed and Afterimages
Before her words faded, the muscles in Amber's legs instantly bulged and expanded!
Tear—!
Her black pantyhose ripped violently open as her fair heels transformed in the blink of an eye into streamlined leopard hind legs covered in spotted patterns! Her claws gripped the ground, and the sheer force of her stomp shattered the cobblestones on the spot!
BANG!
The roar of a revolver exploded in the narrow alleyway!
Amber didn't launch a straight attack; instead, she turned into a golden-black blur barely visible to the naked eye, jumping wildly back and forth between the high walls, pipes, and lampposts on both sides! Her movement trajectory was as erratic as a flickering arc of electricity, while her gun barrel continuously spewed lethal tongues of fire at high speeds!
At that moment, the crystal eye in Corvus's right socket burst with an eerie blue light.
In his nerve-overclocked hyper-vision, the world was dragged into ultra-slow motion: he could clearly see the muscle tremors as Amber kicked off the walls, the scorching fire spurting from her muzzle, and even the burning heat trails left by the bullets in the air...
However, his physical body couldn't keep up!
His damaged frame and muscles, fresh from a desperate battle, suffered a fatal lag—this was the first time in his life he truly felt the desperate chasm between "seeing it with your eyes" and "dodging it with your body."
"Damn it...!"
He forcefully shifted his center of gravity, weaving his right steel sword and dark-gold prosthetic into a flashing defensive screen before his chest.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Piercing metallic screeches and sparks exploded frantically before his eyes! The first three bullets fired by Amber were barely parried by his blade, but her density of attack and speed far exceeded his expectations—
Pfft!
A tricky stray bullet ripped through his defense, plunging precisely into Corvus's right shoulder; scalding blood instantly soaked his black trench coat. Immediately after, a second afterimage flashed by, and another bullet ruthlessly pierced his left ankle!
"Ugh...!"
An agonizing tearing pain shot through his body like an electric shock. Corvus grunted, his balance collapsing as his knee slammed heavily onto the ground! He relied entirely on plunging his longsword hard into the stone bricks to barely support his falling body, cold sweat instantly soaking his back.
Amber landed lightly a few paces ahead of him, her cat claws retracting gracefully as she nonchalantly licked the gunpowder residue from her fingers.
Her dark cat eyes looked down at the wounded detective from above, her gaze cold and amused, like she was appraising a fine piece of trophy about to fall into her hands...
Act IV: A Desperate Gamble and Reverse Blasting
"Demon-Slaying Cannon—Charge!"
Following Corvus's low roar, a muffled resonance of rapidly spinning gears echoed from his dark-gold prosthetic. Glowing red heat burst through the gaps in the metallic joints, distorting the surrounding air so violently it felt as if space itself was trembling under destructive pressure.
"How pitiful, Mr. Detective," Amber let out a crisp, arrogant chuckle.
Her figure leaped erratically between the high walls and rusted water pipes on both sides. Her leopard legs unleashed incredible elasticity, weaving a dazzling pattern of golden afterimages through the narrow alley.
"At this distance, with your sluggish reflexes, do you really think you can hit me?" Amber's taunts drifted in from all directions. Taking advantage of the brief charging delay, she accelerated once more, transforming into a streak of golden lightning charging wildly through the air, pushing her domain of extreme speed to its absolute limit.
Corvus stared fixedly at the unstable afterimages, his breathing heavy as a bellows.
He knew clearly that this was not a contest of speed, but a life-or-death gamble. His crystal eye calculated frantically, no longer tracking Amber's physical trajectory, but catching the subtle yet rhythmic ripples of magic behind every wall kick—a rhythm etched into the raw instincts of a leopard.
Now...!
His finger pulled the trigger to its deepest point; the wild "demon-ash" energy awaited its outlet.
"It's over, Mr. Detective."
Amber's figure suddenly froze mid-air during her high-speed leaps. A cruel and morbid delight appeared on her beautiful face as her dark cat eyes locked coldly onto the kneeling Corvus, her gun pointed straight between his eyebrows.
"Though it's quite boring—I wanted to enjoy your look of despair a bit longer... but orders are orders. Top brass wants you finished quickly."
Her finger slowly squeezed the trigger: "Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Two voices overlapped in the exact same instant!
Amber's voice carried arrogant certainty, while Corvus's voice was as cold as eternal Siberian ice.
In the fraction of a second Amber froze in shock, Corvus's dark-gold prosthetic arm—loaded with destructive energy—snapped backward 180 degrees with a violent CRACK, defying human anatomy!
The scorching palm and barrel weren't aimed at Amber in front of him; instead, they were pressed dead against the solid brick wall behind him!
Amber's pupils shrank violently—that wasn't a stance prepared for snipng her from afar at all!
"Demon-Slaying Cannon—FIRE!"
BOOM—!!
The violent shockwave instantly obliterated the rear wall. The destructive recoil acted as a brute, unstoppable force, blasting Corvus like a black cannonball completely off his original trajectory! He scraped past the absolute blind spot of Amber's vision, flying out in an instant!
"Damn it! That lunatic—!"
Amber screamed in rage, her triumphant amusement vaporized, replaced by furious anger at being thoroughly outsmarted. Her legs burst with maximum speed as she transformed into a fierce streak of gold to give chase, her infuriated shrieks filling the air.
However, when she rounded the alley corner, all that remained was a cast-iron sewer grate blown open by the massive impact, spinning loudly on the ground with a harsh metallic scrape.
Using Claude's high-altitude perspective to calculate his escape route with precision, Corvus had vanished completely into the intricate underground veins of London.
Act V: Blood Loss and Sinking in the Dark Culvert
Inside the sewer, the stench of rot mingled with rusted metal, forming a natural barrier against scent.
Corvus leaned his back against the damp, cold brick wall, gasping heavily for air. The crystal eye in his right socket, once glowing red-hot and dangerous, dimmed rapidly alongside his draining strength.
"The smell here is so thick... even if that leopard woman's sense of smell is sharp, it'll be drowned out by this foul stench."
Corvus muttered under his breath. Even in desperate straits, his mind calculated survival odds with cold detachment—this was the iron rule Raven had taught him: fear can be processed later, but judgment cannot stop.
Enduring excruciating pain, he ripped away the blood-soaked tail of his black trench coat with a sharp tear, using the coarse fabric to bind the bullet wounds on his right shoulder and left ankle tightly. The moment the cloth constricted, a scorching pain pierced his marrow like countless steel needles, but it successfully checked the surging blood for the time being.
Shaking, he propped himself up using his heavy steel sword as a makeshift crutch, dragging himself forward through the maze-like sewer.
Every step in the murky water stirred clear ripples that echoed through the narrow stone-arched passageways.
However, as time ticked on, the sound of his sword striking the ground became intermittent, until finally, only the helpless dragging of his legs through the sludge remained.
Corvus felt as if his entire body were filled with lead, every breath burning like fire in his lungs. The surrounding stone walls began to blur and warp; the pungent stench grew distant, replaced by a sharp, anxious ringing in his eardrums.
"Damn it... severe blood loss...?"
He murmured weakly, his voice nearly buried by the sound of dripping water. "Am I really... going to fall... here...?"
Before his words finished, the longsword supporting his weight lost its balance, hitting the slippery flagstones with a crisp CLANG.
Darkness surged over his vision like a tide. Corvus collapsed helplessly into the freezing sewage, as the entire underground world sank into a heavy, dead silence...
ns216.73.216.47da2
and then Add to home screen.