*Chapter 41: Hesitation Leads to Defeat!*

'The Killer in the Mist!'

The enemy had just been lurking nearby.

That 'Flesh Cultist' was able to silently infiltrate the room and ambush him, undoubtedly the work of that person.

The quick dispatch of Mrs. Pence and the killing of the butler were likely also done by that person.

And now? It seems the opponent is trying to play the role of the 'fisherman'!

Morey, who had just delivered a fatal blow to the 'Child of Flesh,' could barely stand now.

For the enemy, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

As for him? The enemy probably wouldn't even consider him a threat!

Goethe took a deep breath and began reloading his revolver.

He hoped the enemy wouldn't pay attention to him.

Because only then would he have a slim chance of survival!

He still had one last card to play!

There would only be one chance!

Goethe stood with bated breath, holding two guns. Morey, leaning against the wall, struggled to stay upright. In his hand, the official tasked with dealing with the supernatural also held a revolver.

Most of the time, Morey wouldn't use that revolver.

For 'supernatural beings,' supernatural abilities were far more effective than firearms.

And when a 'supernatural being' starts using firearms, it usually means they're at the end of their rope.

Of course, it could also be a trap.

Gasping for breath, Morey hoped it was the latter.

But unfortunately, it was the former.

In fact, just drawing and holding the gun was enough to make Morey's vision go black.

Already severely injured, the all-out strike he had just delivered had further aggravated his wounds.

Now, he probably couldn't even pull the trigger.

Thinking of this, the official in charge of the supernatural showed a bitter smile.

He looked at Goethe with an apologetic gaze.

It wasn't right to drag a promising young man down with him.

If only he had detected the 'Flesh Church's' 'Hunting Squad' earlier.

If only his fight with the 'Killer in the Mist' had been more decisive.

If only...

There were too many "if onlys"!

Reality is always cruel!

"Sorry."

"I dragged you into this."

Morey apologized softly.

"No need."

"I was already involved."

"He chose this."

As Goethe spoke, his eyes turned toward the thick fog outside the door.

The rolling mist resembled a tide,

gray enveloping everything, shrouding the entire house.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

An invisible pressure filled the air, pressing down on Goethe and Morey as the thick fog crept closer, inch by inch.

It felt like a mountain.

Like an abyss.

The 'Killer in the Mist' was extremely cautious.

He didn't act recklessly, despite the favorable situation.

This made Goethe's heart sink.

The more cautious the enemy, the worse it was for him.

Soon, the thick fog engulfed the corridor, about to enter the hall.

Standing in the hall, Goethe lightly licked his dry lips.

Morey struggled to straighten himself.

And just as the confrontation was about to explode, the sound of galloping carriages suddenly echoed, and three police carriages with lanterns came speeding toward 11 Fefry Street, carrying a fully armed squad of police officers.

"Goethe? Goethe?"

"I'm here!"

Swart, sitting in the first carriage, stuck his head out and shouted.

Immediately, the thick fog that was about to surge into the living room retreated.

Then, it vanished completely.

The 'Killer in the Mist' had left!

Goethe and Morey exchanged glances, feeling relieved.

Both had a sense of having narrowly escaped disaster.

There was no doubt that the "Fog Killer" was more seriously injured than they had imagined. Facing him, a "normal person," and the severely injured Morey, he hesitated. But when another group of ordinary people armed with weapons appeared, he retreated without hesitation.

Thud.

Morey, who had been standing straight just moments ago, collapsed onto the ground.

This official responsible for the extraordinary had reached his limit.

But Goethe continued to stand with his gun raised.

Even when Swart walked in, Goethe didn't lower his gun.

"Don't shoot, it's me!" Swart shouted loudly, and when he saw that Goethe remained unmoved, he immediately thought of something.

"Password! Right, the password!"

"It was..."

"Beer, kebabs, crayfish!"

The sheriff blurted out after a moment of thought.

"What flavor of crayfish?" Goethe continued to ask.

Immediately, the sheriff was stunned.

"You didn't tell me what flavor!" Swart looked at Goethe in confusion.

Goethe then lowered the gun he had aimed at Swart and nodded at Morey, who was observing the scene. "He's genuine."

"Good test," Morey said.

He usually liked to use the "identifying watch," even though it had some side effects, it was really convenient.

But now, after seeing Goethe's method, he suddenly wondered if he relied too much on "mystic treasures."

However, the official responsible for extraordinary matters immediately shook his head.

He was already accustomed to such convenience.

It would be hard to change.

Struggling to support his body, Morey stood up again.

"Sheriff Swart, thank you for your support."

"I will report your merits truthfully."

Morey said formally.

Upon hearing Morey's words, Swart almost jumped for joy.

Why did he come here?

Wasn't it for the merits?

And merits reported by someone as important as Morey would naturally be the most prominent.

Swart could almost see himself becoming the chief.

However, the sheriff didn't forget what he should do now.

Snap!

Swart saluted Morey.

"This is my duty!"

"Do you need me to call a doctor for you?"

Swart asked eagerly.

"No need."

"I have potions here."

"Sheriff Swart, I hope your men can guard this place until noon tomorrow."

Morey said.

Swart immediately saluted again.

"Your command is my mission."

The sheriff dutifully carried out Morey's orders.

Looking at Swart's extreme obsequiousness, Goethe felt no disdain.

Apart from a few true "saints," people like Swart, who worked hard after receiving benefits, were already quite good.

Most people would take the benefits without doing the work.

Some were even outright frauds.

"Do you need help?" Goethe immediately asked when he saw Morey carrying Mrs. Pence.

"No need!"

"You've done enough today!"

"I can handle the rest, you should rest well!"

Morey smiled and shook his head, refusing Goethe's offer, and then carried Mrs. Pence upstairs.

Watching his back, Goethe was surprised.

Just moments ago, Morey could barely stand.

But now, after only a brief rest, he was able to carry a person.

"Is this what an extraordinary person is like?" Goethe marveled again.

Then his brow furrowed.

He thought of the "Fog Killer!"

He was being watched closely by this "extraordinary person" who was nearly as powerful as Morey!

Where was he now?

And what was he doing?

(End of Chapter)