Page 65

Blood and drool oozed from the gaping hole in his face. Hector just turned and locked eyes with the shooter. It was a young guy, not much older than himself, holding a magnum unsteadily with both hands, but when he saw Hector, he dropped his gun and stumbled back.

More men rushed in from the entrance, but when they saw Hector, they all stopped.

“Holy fuck...”

“What is that thing?”

Hector’s undead glare seemed enough to prevent any of them from taking another step. He waited a bit to see if they still wanted to fight, but when they merely kept staring, Hector picked up his dented mask and left.

As Garovel reconstructed Hector’s jawbone, he stood at the other end of the street, waiting again to see if any of them would pursue. None did.

‘I’m going to follow Ponytail back to Rofal. Once we know where his headquarters is, we’ll be able to launch an assault at our leisure. You know your way home, right?’

His mouth completely reformed, he said, “Yeah.”

The reaper looked at him a moment, bony fingers hovering in front of Hector’s face. ‘I’m going to bring the soreness back to let your body recover while I’m away. Are you ready?’

Hector groaned. “Go ahead...”

Pain exploded through his mouth.

“Ffff--! Kuh! It feels like my face’s been ripped off!”

‘Well. It was. Actually.’

He dropped to one knee, clutching his mouth with his free hand. “Fucking...! Agh...!”

‘On the bright side, I’m sure the rest of your body feels completely painless by comparison.’

He stood and started walking again, trying to stifle his continued groans. “Fuck this hurts...!”

‘Alright, potty mouth.’

“Fuck you! Agh! This is the worst one yet!”

Garovel laughed. ‘Only joking. You should be swearing. It’ll help you cope with the pain.’

“Fuckface!”

‘Okay. You don’t have to be insulting about it.’

“Just... ugh...”