*Chapter 101: Do You Believe in Retribution?*

"Blood Crow?"

Of course, it's fake!

Barry firmly believed it.

Just as he firmly believed that his father had the ability to rescue him!

At this moment, Barry had already chosen the seat farthest from the toilet and sat down.

But even so, he could still smell that foul odor.

"Just wait!"

"When I get out of here!"

"Winchester? And that Ann!"

Barry's face darkened, his gaze twisted with rage.

Caw, caw.

Suddenly, the sound of a crow echoed, and Barry was stunned, looking up.

There, perched on the ventilation window, was a crow. Barry had no idea when it had gotten there.

"Get lost!"

Barry shouted, standing up to drive the crow away.

When the crow flew off in fear, Barry breathed a sigh of relief.

For some reason, the sight of that crow just now made the violent young man suddenly feel tense, as if an invisible hand had grabbed his heart and squeezed it tightly.

This feeling infuriated Barry.

"Damn it! Damn it!"

"Damn Winchester!"

He cursed loudly.

He even started kicking the toilet.

Caw, caw caw!

The crow's cry echoed again.

In his anger, Barry looked up. He was ready to catch that damn crow and tear it apart!

But in the next moment, Barry froze.

The crow was still there, perched on the ventilation window, but outside the window, a flock of crows was flapping their wings.

The crow standing there gazed at him eerily.

Suddenly—

Caw!

A cry rang out, like the starting signal of a race.

The crow spread its wings and soared into the air.

The crows outside swarmed in.

"Help... ahhhh!"

Barry's cries hadn't even fully formed before they were replaced by screams of agony.

...

"I hope my son hasn't been treated unfairly."

"He may have done wrong, but he's still a child."

"And I've paid the bail."

Barry's father handed the pen back to his lawyer and turned to face Ann and the other officers, speaking righteously.

Some of the more hot-tempered officers glared at him.

But Ann remained unusually calm at that moment.

There was no trace of anger, nor any threats.

He simply pointed to the door of the police station cell.

"Your son is inside."

"You can take him now."

With that, Ann turned and walked away.

"Heh, of course."

Barry's father gave a sneering smile and turned to walk toward the cell.

The elderly officer pulled out the key with a blank expression, ready to unlock the door.

But just then—

"Ahhhhh!"

A shrill scream rang out.

Barry's father recognized it as his son's scream.

"Open the door!"

"Open it now!"

He urged the elderly officer, who seemed startled, his hand shaking as the key fell to the ground.

"Sorry! Sorry!"

The elderly officer apologized repeatedly, bending down to pick up the key.

But as soon as he picked it halfway up, his hand trembled again, and the key fell to the ground once more.

"Sorry! Sorry!"

He apologized sincerely again, but Barry's father had no time for apologies. He bent down, picked up the key, and unlocked the door himself.

Click!

The sound of the lock turning echoed as the door to the cell opened.

Barry's father rushed in.

The officers followed.

Then, everyone was stunned.

A crow stood on Barry's chest, pecking at his flesh.

Blood stained its dark feathers, turning them crimson.

Barry's eyes were already hollow, bloody cavities.

There was an even larger hole in his chest.

He was clearly beyond saving.

"Ahhhhh!"

Barry's father screamed, rushing forward.

The crow, startled, flew into the air.

"Shoot! Shoot!"

"Shoot it dead!"

Barry's father shouted, but the officers just stared at each other, none taking action.

The elderly officer muttered to himself in a daze.

"Is the 'Blood Crow' real?!"

...

As the car sped down the highway, Barry's father, sitting in the back seat, roared in anger.

"'Blood Crow'?"

"What 'Blood Crow'?"

"It's just a trick!"

"A very poor trick!"

He roared while pounding the armrest.

"Now! Immediately!"

"Find someone to take out that Winchester guy!"

"And!"

"I'm going to file a complaint against those officers!"

"It was their negligence that got my son killed!"

"I want them all suspended!"

Huff, huff!

Barry's father panted heavily.

His secretary, sitting beside him, picked up a secure phone to contact some "acquaintances."

Barry's father wasn't just a city councilman; he also owned a department store, two shopping centers, and three large supermarkets, making him truly wealthy.

Or perhaps it was this wealth that had made Barry's father a councilman.

But even after becoming a councilman, Barry's father hadn't abandoned some of his old methods.

"Sir, they'll act as quickly as possible," the secretary said, putting down the phone.

"No!"

"I don't want 'as quickly as possible'!"

"I want it done now!"

Barry's father emphasized.

"But it's not safe. We should..."

Bang!

The secretary's words were cut off by a punch to the face, followed by a kick from Barry's father.

"Get out!"

---

"I don't need a useless person telling me what to do!"

"My son is dead now!"

"My son is dead!"

Barry's father shouted, ordering the other person to get out of the car.

The secretary silently opened the car door, even though the car hadn't stopped.

Bang! Barry's father kicked again.

The secretary was kicked out of the car, rolling several times before being left in too much pain to stand up.

He could only lift his head and watch the car quickly drive away, along with...

...a motorcycle that was chasing after it.

The motorcycle was extremely fast, and in the blink of an eye, it was driving alongside the car. The rider threw a hand grenade precisely into the car, which hadn't had its door properly closed.

Then, the motorcycle accelerated again.

Vroom! With the engine roaring, the motorcycle flew out of the secretary's view as if it were gliding close to the ground.

Boom! The next moment, flames filled the secretary's vision.

The ringing in his ears and the fire in front of him left him completely stunned.

...

Shuster rubbed his temples.

He wished he could be more alert.

Unfortunately, after a sleepless night, he wanted nothing more than to just go to sleep.

But he couldn't.

His colleague, who was supposed to take over, hadn't arrived yet.

Left with no choice, Shuster lit a cigarette to keep himself awake.

He took a deep drag and slowly exhaled.

The smoke began to fill the car, and as Shuster watched it disperse, a hint of confusion appeared in his eyes again.

Last night, old Jerry had told him about what had happened at the police station.

"The Blood Crow!!!"

It was actually real!!!

Old Jerry had used six exclamation points to express his shock.

But Shuster still hadn't fully processed it.

How could the "Blood Crow" be real?

But old Jerry definitely wouldn't lie to him.

Although old Jerry mostly had an idle job guarding the police station's cells and overseeing logistics, he would never joke about something like this.

And later, the police station had directly assigned a colleague to stake out with him, further proving that old Jerry hadn't lied.

However, before his colleague could arrive, Shuster received news—

Councilman Barry had been attacked!

Including the driver and the bodyguard, they were all blown to pieces!

That colleague who hadn't yet arrived had gone to the crime scene.

And he had to continue to hold his position here.

"What’s been going on these past two days?"

"Why have so many things suddenly happened?"

"It’s like a disaster is approaching!"

Shuster muttered to himself.

Whack! The car window was suddenly tapped, and when Shuster turned to look, he smiled.

It was his partner, Ann.

"Coffee, sandwiches."

Ann handed the breakfast to Shuster.

"Thanks!"

"This is exactly what I need right now, coffee and food!"

Shuster opened the car door and happily took the breakfast.

"How's it going?"

Ann asked.

"Everything's normal. After Winchester returned to the 'Folklore Research Institute,' he hasn't left again—there's only one door to the building, and I'm sure he hasn't left."

Shuster answered confidently.

The 'Folklore Research Institute' was located in a six-story building with only one front entrance.

Ann nodded again and then walked straight toward the 'Folklore Research Institute.'

Shuster immediately followed.

When the two of them reached the second floor, where the 'Folklore Research Institute' was located, and knocked on the door, Goethe had just woken up.

Faced with their questions about the 'Blood Crow,' Goethe looked shocked.

"What?"

"The 'Blood Crow' killing people?"

"You've got to be kidding me, the 'Blood Crow' is obviously fake!"

"It's just a legendary story, and a very obscure one at that. I've only seen it in an ancient book."

"We have to believe in science!"

Goethe declared righteously.

"Fake?"

"But Barry is dead!"

Shuster said with a wry smile.

If Barry hadn't died, to be honest, he wouldn’t believe it either.

"Hmm, I think you could consult some ornithologists to see if anyone can tame a crow."

Goethe suggested.

"The department already has people looking into that."

Shuster replied.

Then the kind-hearted police officer continued to ask,

"Winchester, is there anything else you know about the 'Blood Crow'?"

"The 'Blood Crow' doesn't kill indiscriminately."

"It only goes after bad people."

Goethe answered this way.

His gaze involuntarily shifted to Ann, who hadn't said a word since entering.

Likewise, the female officer's gaze was fixed on Goethe.

They stared at each other.

A second later, they both looked away.

Goethe maintained his smile.

The female officer kept her cold expression.

Shuster, however, didn't notice any of this; he was still hung up on the 'Blood Crow.'

This simple and kind police officer had been a bit scared.

"How does the 'Blood Crow' distinguish between good people and bad people?"

"What if it makes a mistake?"

Shuster asked.

And just as Goethe was about to respond—

Knock, knock, knock! There was a knock on the door.

(End of this chapter)