Chapter 498: Fools With Guns
Chapter 498 Fools With Guns
Under the cloak of night in a forgotten town, an abandoned building, steeped in dust and shadow, came alive with an ominous glow.
Besides the broken tube lights and bulbs, fire torches mounted on the walls cast flickered light across the dusty hall, revealing twenty-five figures draped in dark brown cloaks.
Seated on the worn floor, they formed a circle, their heads bowed, hoods obscuring their faces as they chanted in unison.
At the heart of their gathering, a ritualistic circle pulsed with an eerie dark orange light, its glow casting sinister shadows on the walls.
"Keep praying to our Master so that his demonic power will keep flowing through us and allow us to reach new heights!" The leader’s voice, fervent with zeal, cut through the rhythmic drone of the chant, urging his followers to deepen their devotion.
However, the sanctity of their ritual was shattered by a mocking query, "What good will it do to you people by praying to a weak Master?" A woman’s coy voice, laced with derision, reverberated through the hall, startling the cultists into silence.
The cult leader and his followers, momentarily shaken, quickly rallied, leaping to their feet with a practiced agility. Weapons that shimmered with a subtle glow were drawn in an instant, their readiness to defend their faith palpable in the tense air.
"Show yourself, intruder, unless you want to be sacrificed to our Master," commanded Hangul, the cult leader, his dark eyes scanning the shadows.
His visage, marked by a black beard and mustache, was underscored by dark circles—a mirror to his dedication or perhaps his madness.
From the darkness stepped a figure that seemed to make the fire torches wildly flicker.
A woman, her presence as striking as it was menacing, advanced into the light.
Dressed in a red leather jacket that accentuated her curves and left little to the imagination by exposing her deep cleavage and the upper part of her well-endowed breasts, she exuded confidence and blazing allure.
Her vermilion hair cascaded from beneath her hood, a fiery contrast to the somber setting.
Flanking her were two women, their black eyes piercing from behind masks that concealed the lower halves of their delicate faces.
One sported a red jacket and a shirt underneath, her bobbed black hair a sharp silhouette against her attire, while the other was clad in silver armor, a vision of purity and innocence as evident from her big, round eyes.
Both of them held a staff, green and pointed, glowing with a subtle radiant green light.
"Careful there, little man. We aren’t here to fight," the woman with vermilion hair said, her smile both disarming and dangerous.
Dark vermilion lines traced her skin, letting even a fool realize that dark power flowed through her veins.
"I am Hangul, the leader of the Iron Bullet Cult. You chose the wrong cult to mess with. Who are you, and which cult do you belong to?" Hangul demanded, his own body aglow with dark orange lines that mirrored the ritual circle’s hue. The cultists, emboldened by their leader’s stance, aimed their glowing guns at the three intruders.
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