Gun of Ashes-Chapter 811 - 47: Sparring (Part 2)

Erin completely abandoned her defense, swinging her fists back and forth, but due to the wound, her movements weren't very large. On Red Falcon's side, he raised one hand to protect his wound and let the other hang down, ready to counterattack at any moment.

"So what exactly are you thinking, Erin?"

Red Falcon looked at this somewhat disheveled woman in front of him. He couldn't decipher her thoughts, like a murky enigma.

"Take a guess?"

As Erin spoke, she suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Red Falcon's head with both hands, and then attempted to knee him fiercely. But Red Falcon directly extended his hand to block, while the other hand guarding the wound launched an offensive.

It was just a disguise; it could be used for defense or attack. This sudden change was beyond Erin's expectations. She had thought, after the previous battles, that Red Falcon would constantly defend his wound. But obviously, he wasn't thinking that at all, or maybe he hadn't even considered it.

Red Falcon's stupidity was pure, sometimes this wasn't a strategy, just an instinct in the face of life and death.

"You're facing the Lucky Red Falcon!"

No one knew whether this was luck or just experience. In any case, Red Falcon always came back alive, and this time was no exception.

His fist slammed down hard, forcing Erin to retreat, stumbling as if she was seriously hurt. Red Falcon moved closer again; having worked in the Purification Mechanism for so long, Red Falcon knew one thing: it wasn't about how many people you could beat down, but how much beating you could withstand that mattered the most.

It looked like Erin was about to beat Red Falcon to death, but he felt just right, in top form.

"I underestimated you,"

Erin responded, sidestepping a punch and grabbing Red Falcon's arm, throwing him down hard. But as he fell, Red Falcon grabbed Erin's hand, pulling her to the ground with him.

She quickly shifted strategies, her legs straddling over Red Falcon's arm, pressing against his neck and chest, while her hands tightly restrained Red Falcon's injured arm, pulling with force, and arching her hips.

Red Falcon let out a low moan of pain.

"Stop struggling, Moon."

Erin twisted hard, and Red Falcon's healing wound was torn open, his whole arm appeared slightly bent, as if Erin would snap it the next moment.

Blood oozed out, Red Falcon turned his head slightly, glaring at Erin with rage, his mouth slightly open, as if saying something.

"What are you trying to say?"

Erin continued to taunt.

"I said... you fucker!"

Red Falcon cursed angrily.

With the curse, in an instant, Erin was lifted up, even she was dazed by this sudden change.

She was too light, still with a notable difference in size compared to Red Falcon. Red Falcon grabbed her leg with one hand and, without any support, lifted Erin off the ground. Erin struggled hard, and Red Falcon's entire arm began to deform, but he seemed to feel no pain.

He stood up.

Erin hung on him like a monkey, then Red Falcon suddenly slammed into the wall, and Erin felt like she was hit head-on by a carriage, but she didn't let go of her hold.

Once wasn't enough, so it was a second, a third time.

Red Falcon, like an enraged beast, repeatedly slammed against the wall until Erin was exhausted, until she fell off him.

"Ah... ha..."

Both were exhausted, but Red Falcon had won. He slowly turned around, casually picking up a chair, ready to deliver Erin the final blow.

But what greeted him was a pitch-black gun barrel.

Erin had fallen, but her position was right next to the Winchester. She raised the barrel, looking battered but with victory in her grasp.

"I won, Moon."

The barrel of the Winchester pointed at Red Falcon's head; this time, Red Falcon had no strength to dodge. He was done for.

Red Falcon said nothing; he was utterly spent.

"Goodbye."

Erin said, but at the last moment of pulling the trigger, she shifted the barrel slightly downward, the bullet hitting Red Falcon in the abdomen, the impact knocking him down like a corpse.

At last, the room fell silent.

After all this, Erin released the Winchester, lying weakly on the floor, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Her eyes were somewhat red, as if on the verge of tears, but in the end, she didn't cry.

Erin forced herself up. In the recent collision, who knew what she had hit? Her bare arms and thighs were covered in abrasions, some even deeper cuts.

She picked up a coat and opened Lorenzo's violin case. Strangely, besides the Winchester, it was full of cold weapons. Erin didn't know what weapon to take, eventually opting for a folding blade.

At the door, just as she was about to turn the doorknob to leave, she looked hesitant. She doubled back and made a call. After a brief busy signal, the hotel reception picked up.

"Hello."

The receptionist's voice trembled, clearly having heard the earlier gunshots, but this operation was covered by Nordro's full service, so not too many people were alarmed.

"We need a doctor here."

"I understand."

After hanging up, Erin walked back to the door. Passing by a mirror, she tidied up her clothes, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, and smeared it on her lips like lipstick, then combed her disheveled hair.

"Bye, Moon. Hope you survive."

Taking a look at the life-or-death Red Falcon, Erin turned and twisted the doorknob. Just then, behind her, a silhouette wobbled to its feet.

Erin heard the faint rustle and spun around abruptly, but Red Falcon was faster this time. The chair crashed into her head, with such force that it shattered upon impact.

Under this powerful blow, Erin finally couldn't hold up and collapsed.

"Luck won't favor a fool."

Red Falcon sneered. The clothing over his abdomen was torn by the bullet's direct hit, but beneath it wasn't flesh, but a layer of body armor.

Having survived many life-and-death situations, Red Falcon had become twice as cautious. Ever since knowing about this deadly job, even if it was uncomfortable, he slept with body armor on.

While everyone said that once you're shot, this thing was useless, it was at least a psychological comfort.

He forcefully pulled off the body armor, the skin underneath already swollen and bruised, with some abrasions.

By rights, this thing couldn't withstand a straight hit from a Winchester, but clearly, Erin hadn't noticed these details.

Red Falcon bent down, picking up a shell casing from the floor. Since Erin's first shot, he had realized what was going on.

"Lorenzo, you bastard."

He cursed softly, tossing away the rubber bullet casing in his hand.

Not knowing whether to thank Erin for sparing his life, or something else, if she had aimed that shot at his head, even with a rubber bullet, Red Falcon would have been dead.

Thinking this, Red Falcon kicked the unconscious Erin and spat bloody phlegm onto her.

Grumbling, he walked to the side, righted the overturned sofa, and from a pile of debris and clutter, found the book he hadn't finished.

Red Falcon seemed completely at ease, even poured himself a drink.

After thinking for a while, he moved next to Erin, picked up a tissue to wipe away the spit, then tightly tied Erin with telephone cables, leaving her aside.

Red Falcon himself sat back on the sofa, reading the book, with the Winchester resting by his side.

After a while, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

At Red Falcon's indication, the doctor slowly pushed open the door, witnessing the chaotic and blood-stained scene.

"You need a doctor?"

The doctor glanced at the battered Red Falcon, who was biting into a bandage, roughly wrapping his own arm while reading.

"No, it's not for me."

Red Falcon replied, pointing at Erin cast aside.

"She needs a doctor, symptoms... probably a concussion."