Cameraman Never Dies-Chapter 186: Step one of anger management — Don’t
Lucifer now really wanted to smoke, but alas he was on a mission. He was watching Isadora with his mask on and recording. The assassins could not sense him, but he knew where each one was — but there could always be more.
He could always surprise the assassins, but if there were other assassins only to observe from the distance, his master’s plans would need a redrafting, and he was not here to fail his master.
The current plan was to wait and oversee Isadora’s fight, getting anyone who acts suspicious at a distance, if all goes well — Lucifer will once again approach Victor in order to completely eradicate the assassin gathering with the help of the legal authorities through Detective Hawke. But if it doesn’t, then getting through the organization would be even more of a pain since they would now be alerted against Lucifer’s organization as well as the authorities.
Isadora led Felix inside the garden pergola, the place was surrounded by a beautifully crafted garden and a low iron fence near the cobblestone paths of the garden.
Lucifer kept an eye out for the assassins’ movements, and Felix, now aware of the fact that she was actually targeting the assassins — decided to keep his guard up, he became less talkative and more alert to surroundings like a seasoned detective in mission. (Without "Oh that is a clue" talks of course)
"Detective," She began as both sat down. Experience exclusive tales on novelbuddy
Felix leaned in, still alert "Yes?"
"Promise me that you will lend me a helping hand after I tell you what I have to do," She stared at his eyes intensely. "I promise that it is legal and in fact, would help you out more than it would me as mine is just about revenge."
It did not take long for the detective to piece together what she was hinting at, it must be about destroying the assassin organization that her husband was working in. "Very well, if it is something I can handle given the situations — then yes."
"Thank you," She looked at the skies and at him again, "Then as you’ve deducted, my husband was an assassin..."
As soon as she uttered those words, the leaves in the garden rustled as five assassins emerged from within, she could still sense quite a few in hiding.
"We trusted you, Isadora," One of the assassins spoke, "How could you betray your husband?"
"Oh? Is this how you treat people you trust perhaps," Isadora did not get up, "By keeping watch?"
"Uh oh," The detective got up, "I don’t even have a weapon, this could get dangerous."
"Aren’t detectives supposed to be good at preparing?" Isadora slowly got up. "Or did you not expect fewer assassins after seeing my confidence."
Felix smiled, "You put me at ease, Madam Rivet." He calmed down after seeing Isadora’s demeanor.
"As you should," Isadora smiled and brought her hand toward her face, a plain white mask with a smiley face appeared in her hand. "I will take care of this."
Lucifer sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The moment Isadora reached for the mask, he knew—he just knew—that things were about to get unnecessarily dramatic. Not that he minded bloodshed, but he had seen this before. The moment that mask was on, it was as if a switch had been flipped. And, oh, how it flipped.
As soon as the plain white mask with its unsettlingly cheerful smile settled over her face, Isadora went from ’elegant and composed widow’ to ’feral whirlwind of death.’ Her eyes settled in the color of purple, but with a blue hint.
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The assassins barely had time to process the transformation before she was upon them. One unfortunate soul found himself introduced to a particularly pointy piece of wrought iron fencing, courtesy of Isadora’s newfound inhuman strength ripping apart the hand railing.
Another tried to back away, only for her to grab him by the throat and yeet him through the pergola like an unwanted casserole at a family dinner. He did not survive the landing.
Luckily Detective Felix had a good experience at dodging, or he would not have survived either. He looked at Isadora, astonished by her transformation from a calm and composed widow to a beast that wrought destruction.
Isadora extended her hand and a sword of ice materialized slowly, first water, then the ice thickened over before turning entirely white, and the cold mist flowed out from it.
One particularly ambitious assassin, perhaps thinking himself clever, attempted to leap from a tree and take her by surprise. Isadora caught him midair. Midair. The man let out a single, startled "urk" before she drove the sword through his throat.
There were still about fifteen left after the six dead, that was all of them as they all came out after seeing her kill the first one. They all were stationed to take care of her in case she went berserk.
Lucifer, watching from his concealed position, exhaled slowly. "And there it is," he muttered. He sensed (his wind sensed) two people quickly trying to escape as they saw the scene from two different ends of the Rivet estate.
He still marveled at the power of the mask gifted by his lord. It could share anything between the subordinates, even a part of the lord’s strength.
It was one of the reasons he was so eager to recruit more members, to bring others under the influence of the mask’s shared vitality, stamina, and power. He had concluded that he could bring enough members, strong members, until all the seats were filled.
He had taught Isadora how to use it, ensuring that she wouldn’t just put it on blindly but would instead become something far greater — a controlled force of destruction, rather than a reckless berserker. And judging by the carnage unfolding before him, his teachings had paid off.
"Who are you really?" Felix asked the question that the assassins could not since they were busy trying to stay alive, but there was not much progress as she bashed another one’s head against the cobblestone, bursting his head open and spraying the brain matter all over before they froze.
Isadora straightened herself and looked at Felix, "I am a recorder, Mon cher."1
My dear
