“Just as I suspected!”
Before dusk had fallen—it was barely past four in the afternoon—a figure in a black coat appeared in Freya’s line of sight.
Having been killed by this man once before, Freya could never forget his appearance.
There was no doubt this was the pervert.
Since he so desperately wanted to “devour” her, he wouldn’t have arrived at the last minute.
He must have been lurking nearby for quite some time.
Though the pervert’s current appearance differed slightly from Freya’s memories.
His eyes were no longer crimson slits, and he no longer exuded the same madness and irrationality.
Instead, he looked like an ordinary person—troubled and urgently rushing away.
Even though he was walking away from Freya’s house, she soon saw him circling back from another direction, repeating this pattern endlessly.
The impression was that this man still retained a sliver of rationality, but not much.
It was like a drug addict who knows using drugs is wrong but can’t resist the urge.
The pervert must have known that eating people was wrong, but his hunger was simply overwhelming.
Cold sweat streamed down his forehead as he desperately tried to control his gaze, yet he kept unconsciously glancing toward Freya’s residence, without even realizing it himself.
Freya’s only lingering question was why this pervert, if he was going to eat people, had to target her specifically.
Still, this didn’t deter her from her next move.
After the pervert left for the third time and returned again, Freya finally emerged from her hiding spot and walked toward him.
It was just after 5 p.m.
Although Freya’s neighborhood was secluded, there were still several pedestrians around.
She even spotted Brother Scar’s two Blondie underlings passing by.
As she walked past them, the punks whistled at her.
“Hey, Little Freya!
School’s out early today?”
Freya completely ignored the two Blondies, her gaze locked firmly on the pervert.
When she was about seven or eight steps away, she suddenly drew her gun without warning.
Freya gripped the Lococo 191 tightly in her right hand, aimed, and fired!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The crisp gunshots echoed through the street.
At first, the pedestrians froze, stunned by the sudden sound.
The pervert was no different.
He had been strolling along normally, when suddenly a complete stranger opened fire on him.
Who could have reacted in time?
Who could have imagined such a thing?
After the three shots rang out, most of the pedestrians began screaming and fleeing in terror, scattering away from Freya.
The two Blondies, who knew Freya’s usual demeanor, nearly popped their eyes out of their sockets.
“Huh?”
“Wait, what’s happening?”
You mean the usually timid, soft-spoken girl who cries for ages after a simple scare—that adorable little cupcake—is now openly murdering someone in broad daylight, in front of everyone?
What the actual fck?!*
Are you kidding me?
The pervert hadn’t fully processed what was happening, but driven by instinct, he reacted in the nick of time, raising his hands to shield his forehead.
Of Freya’s three shots, two struck his chest, while the third hit his hands just in front of his forehead.
In truth, she had aimed all three shots at his head, but two had strayed slightly off course.
Well, what can you do?
She’s only been training for a month.
Her accuracy is already pretty impressive, considering.
At least she didn’t miss entirely, right?
Watching the scene unfold, Freya showed no disappointment or discouragement.
Her expression remained utterly calm as she continued firing.
Bang!
Bang!
Simultaneously, though completely bewildered by the situation, the pervert instinctively charged at the ‘enemy’ who had attacked him.
Freya recalled an old saying from her past life: “Beyond seven steps, the gun is swift; within seven steps, the gun is swift and accurate.” This adage held some truth, but it wasn’t the whole story.
Never underestimate human burst speed.
In some ‘free’ countries, certain individuals have been known to close seven steps and assault police officers before the officers could even draw their weapons.
This pervert was a Beyonder, his physical abilities far surpassing those of even the most formidable men from Freya’s previous life.
Naturally, his speed was also greater.
Since Freya was initiating the attack, she didn’t need to draw her weapon or aim—she could simply keep pulling the trigger.
Both bullets struck his hands, while the third missed entirely, skimming past his scalp.
The Lococo 191 boasted high accuracy and low recoil, but its firepower was only average.
The pervert’s crossed hands proved impenetrable.
Swish—
A cold, white shadow sliced through his black Coat as the pervert, still shielding his head with his hands, switched to using his tail for offense.
His target was obvious: Freya’s gun-wielding right hand.
Thud—
The sharp bone spike pierced through Freya’s palm, just as it had in their first simulation.
Driven by instinct, the pervert would always prioritize neutralizing the most immediate threat—Freya’s weapon.
“Hiss…” Even though she had braced herself mentally, the searing pain still made Freya gasp sharply.
The attack was too fast; she couldn’t even track the movement of the pervert’s tail.
But…
she hadn’t intended to dodge anyway.
The moment the pervert attacked—or even a split second earlier—her left hand had already tightened around another gun, a more powerful revolver.
As the tail lashed out, Freya raised the revolver without hesitation.
BANG!
The gunshot rang out louder and more violent than before.
At such close range, there was no need to aim, yet Freya still missed slightly.
The bullet struck the pervert’s neck, exiting through his cheek.
The pervert tried to retract his tail, but Freya’s right hand instantly released the Lococo 191 and clamped down on the creature’s tail in a reverse grip!
This was akin to gripping a knife blade with her bare hand.
The retracting tail tore through her right hand, but even slowing the creature’s speed by a fraction of a second was enough.
Freya’s left hand, the Revolver’s muzzle pressed against the pervert’s chin.
Gritting her teeth against the searing pain, she vowed, “This time…
I won’t miss!”
Bang!
The Revolver’s massive bullet pierced straight through the pervert’s skull.
Rust-tinged crimson blood splattered everywhere, some of it splashing onto Freya’s cheek.
Even her adorable face looked somewhat terrifying when drenched in blood.
The pervert’s body slowly went limp, but Freya fired four more shots, all aimed at his head, until the Revolver was empty.
She had to make absolutely sure the bastard was dead.
What if he revived later?
Only after completing this gruesome task did her legs buckle, and she collapsed into a duck-sitting position on the ground.
“Hiss…
That hurts so much…”
After several ragged breaths, she hurriedly retrieved pre-prepared medical supplies from her person and began bandaging herself with emergency treatment—a Skill she had learned from the Special Operations Division during her second simulation.
During this time, she glanced around.
The two Blondies hadn’t run yet.
Logically, now that Freya was writhing in pain and practically defenseless, anyone could take her down, let alone two strong young men.
But when Freya looked their way, the Blondies nearly pissed themselves in terror.
One of them actually did soak a large patch of his pants.
How could they possibly dare provoke Freya, this lunatic?
They turned tail and fled, scrambling away on all fours.
“Mommy, I want to go home!”
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!
Save me!”
After wrapping her mangled right hand in layer upon layer of bandages and performing basic first aid to at least prevent immediate death, Freya began searching the pervert’s corpse.
She quickly found a black envelope in his jacket pocket—Obsidian’s contact information.
Opening the envelope with her left hand alone proved difficult due to the excruciating pain in her right hand.
Inside, she found the following message:
[Gelbgasse Street, No.
13, Broken Axe Tavern, order a Cool-Toned Orange Special Blend.]
After carefully packing up her firearms, Freya endured the relentless pain in her right hand, gritting her teeth as she swiftly left the scene.
Some time later, she successfully located the Broken Axe Tavern mentioned on the envelope.
Tucked deep within a narrow alley, the place was utterly secluded and looked utterly dilapidated.
The sign wasn’t even hung above the entrance; instead, it stood upright beside the door.
It took Freya considerable effort to decipher the cracked and faded sign, finally making out the letters for “Broken Axe.” Is this the place?
She had washed away the bloodstains from her face, but the injury to her right hand had left her complexion pale.
A sheen of cold sweat glistened on her forehead, making her appear even more frail, like a delicate vase ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
Without hesitation, she pushed open the tavern door and stepped inside.
A wave of cheap tobacco smoke, stale alcohol, and the acrid stench of unwashed feet slammed into her senses. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
It was still early, around six o’clock, which explained why the tavern wasn’t particularly crowded yet.
Freya glanced around, noticing only two tables occupied.
At one corner table, a man was sipping his drink in solitude, while another customer leaned against the bar, seemingly chatting with the bartender.
She approached the bar, where the bartender glanced up at her and said dismissively, “A kid?
We don’t serve juice or milk here.
Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
The customer at the bar couldn’t help but whistle when he saw Freya.
“Ooh~ What a pretty little girl.”
As Freya reached the bar, the man brazenly reached out to grope her bottom.
She swiftly sidestepped, putting distance between them.
The man clicked his tongue.
“Tsk tsk tsk.
Come to a place like this and still pretending to be a good girl?
Uncle has lots of fun toys.
Wanna come play with me later?”
Ignoring him, Freya turned to the bartender and ordered, “One Cool-Toned Orange Special Blend.”
Upon hearing this, the owner paused, glancing at Freya with a puzzled expression.
After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry, young lady, but we don’t carry that particular drink here.
Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”
Seeing this, Freya abandoned any pretense of using secret codes and cut straight to the chase.
“I know you have Demon Pathway potions here.
Isn’t that what you’ve been distributing all over the place?
I want one now!”
The owner fell silent again.
“Are you serious?
I don’t know how you found out about this, but this isn’t some child’s plaything.
The Demon Pathway requires consuming human flesh to maintain sanity.
Honestly, do you have the guts to kill someone?
Don’t starve yourself to death later.”
Freya didn’t reply.
At this moment, action spoke louder than words.
She turned her gaze to the customer who had just been harassing her and strode purposefully toward him.
Seeing her approach, the customer grinned.
“What’s this?
A change of heart?
Uncle here…”
But before he could finish his sentence, Freya interrupted, “What kind of decent person would come to a place like this?
Whether it’s you, or me…”
As she spoke, her left hand slipped out from beneath her clothes, the barrel of the Lococo 191 pistol pointing directly at the person before her.
Bang!
Clean and swift—a point-blank headshot.
Before anyone could react, a muffled thud echoed as the body collapsed to the ground.
Freya finally turned her head back to the boss, tilting her head slightly to the side with an adorable expression.
In a sweet, childlike voice, she asked, “What about now?”
The boss froze for several seconds, stunned, before bursting into laughter.
“Ha ha!
Ha ha ha!
Truly astonishing!”
His gaze toward Freya now burned with intense interest.
A girl so deceptively cute, capable of casually killing someone without betraying the slightest emotion—this…
was simply magnificent, wasn’t it?
“You didn’t happen to kill Reno and swipe the envelope from his corpse, did you?” the boss asked.
Reno?
Was that the pervert’s name?
Freya nodded, offering no denial.
The boss chuckled.
“I won’t give you a Demon Pathway potion.
You deserve something far better.”