The bullet flew out of the revolver’s barrel.
Reacting instantly, Fokusar dashed forward.
The bullet whizzed past his ear, missing him by a mere centimeter before striking the wall behind him.
Stopping right in front of the brown-haired guy still on the ground, Fokusar reached his hand down.
“Need help, man?”
The brown-haired guy’s eyes widened in sheer shock at how fast Fokusar was.
“You’re in,” he said, grabbing Fokusar’s hand as Fokusar pulled him to his feet.
“I’m Shory Flual, and you’re now one of us.”
“So, what do I have to do?” Fokusar asked out of curiosity.
“We are the Order of Blaze,” Shory answered proudly.
“Our job is to collect Blaze Stone pieces scattered over this freezing hell to unfreeze it.”
“Why do we have to unfreeze it, though?” Fokusar asked.
“Because the sudden freezing of hell caused the creatures here to mutate,” Shory replied.
“Except for us sinners.
Here’s your badge and your crystal radio for communication.”
Shory handed him a badge and a mini radio with a strange crystal wired into the side.
Fokusar took them and slipped them into his pocket.
“Thanks,” he replied.
“And your room is number 3 in the next car,” Shory added.
Fokusar walked over to the next train car.
Along the way, he passed a slim, black-haired girl with orange eyes wearing a brown coat.
He stopped at a door marked with the number 3 and pushed it open.
Inside were two beds, one on the left and one on the right.
Looking to the left, he found none other than Glacia sitting on her bed.
“Hmm, you’re my roommate, huh?” Glacia said, looking up at him.
Fokusar walked over and sat on the right bed.
“Yes,” he replied confidently.
“Sleeping in the same room as me comes with three rules,” Glacia said.
“First, don’t get my white bed stained with anything.
Second, do not use any of my hairbrushes, toothbrushes, or sweaters.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Fokusar interrupted.
Glacia continued, “Third, don’t try to do anything weird, or else that spear will be in your skull.” She pointed to a sharp metal spear resting in the corner of the room.
Then, her tone softened, and she smiled gently.
“Oh, and if you’re hungry, there’s a kitchen and a bar a few cars down.
The bathroom is down the hall.”
Suddenly, Shory’s voice crackled through the crystal radio.
“Hey, Fokusar, can you come to the storage room?”
Fokusar quickly walked out of the room.
He retraced his steps back to the train car where he had fought Shory.
As he looked around, he noticed the same black-haired girl with orange eyes sitting near a window, reading a book.
She looked up at him.
“Hey, you’re the new kid.
I’m Vermont, nice to meet you.”
“Oh, nice to meet you.
I’m Fokusar,” he replied, keeping his pace steady as he moved to the next room.
He arrived at a door with a sign that read Storage Room and pushed it open.
Inside stood Shory.
In the dim light, his yellow eyes seemed to glow faintly.
Rows of various weapons hung on a rack behind him.
Shory turned to face Fokusar.
“Oh, you’re here.
You need to choose a weapon.
Now tell me, what was your job while you were alive?”
Fokusar thought for a second before replying, “A sniper.”
“Hmm, interesting.
A sniper, but also good at hand-to-hand combat,” Shory mused.
“Then maybe this revolver will match you.”
Shory grabbed a weapon from the gun rack.
It was a silver revolver, custom-modified with a scope, a stock, and a blade fixed to the end of the barrel.
“A custom revolver for mid-to-long range, with a blade for close combat, a stock for reducing recoil, and a scope for sniping,” Shory explained proudly, as if he had built it himself.
“It uses 9mm bullets, and can also fire 12-gauge shells.”
Fokusar stared at the weapon.
“I’ll take it.”
He quickly snatched the revolver from Shory’s hand.
Turning to leave, Fokusar grabbed a small box of 9mm ammunition before walking back down the hall toward his room.