93 Before The Meetup 2 (2/2)
A second later, before the badly damaged walls, Clarissa finally saw a silhouette seemingly riddled with bullet holes. The girl's crazy smile turned into a genuine one as she happily waited to see the horrible mess the pesky brat's corpse had become.
In fact, even before she saw the bloody corpse, she was already laughing happily. Her pleasant-sounding voice even echoed with extreme joy when she exclaimed, ”Finally! Haha, you damn bratty scoundrel is finally dead! You died! By the hands of a host a level or two lower than you! Hahaha! This is what you deserved! How dare you bomb my belongings! How dare you throw a bomb at me! You deserve to die! So now you're dead! Hahaha!”
Clarissa laughed a bit more, ignoring the weird gazes of the men around her who already regained clarity of mind. She became too engrossed with her victory that she momentarily lost control of them. Naturally, they came back to their senses.
Most of them remembered firing so many bullets which hit the walls and other pieces of furniture. However, when they checked, the wall clearly had no damage aside from the holes... And none of the weapons used today used gunpowder. Actually, no modern firearms used that anymore. So where did the smoke come from? And why was it concentrated on the corpse?
At this train of thought, one of the tattooed baldies finally called out, ”Lady Boss. Something's odd.”
Another one added, ”Yeah. Something's not right here... I seem to be seeing something on the walls.”
”Idiot! Stop! Don't say it! Boss is currently happy!”
The young police officer replied, his expression weird, ”...But there's really something on the walls... Are you people pretending to be blind? Or illiterate?”
”...You rascal!”
Their bickering made Clarissa sober up. Her laughter stopped and her serious expression returned. She swept an icy glance to the group of men of varying heights, getups, looks, and physiques.
She actually didn't like what they said. But they did remind her that she should only celebrate once the enemy's death was confirmed. This was the only reason why she didn't punish them. Instead, she prioritized checking the corpse.
Clarissa froze. It was not because of what the system told her. It was caused by the scene in front of her.
The floating white powder giving them the illusion that there was smoke finally vanished, revealing the cold, 'dead body'. There were holes everywhere and blood that looked to be seeping out there, but when she looked closely, something was really odd.
'Why does the damn thing appear fake?'
It looked like not a real corpse because it was now slowly turning intangible and illusion-like! Also when she directed her gaze to its bloody face, she saw that its lips formed into a smile. A mocking smile! It made her remember that lunatic stalker's always-maniacally-laughing expression!
”Damn it!!!” She couldn't help but yell in agitation.
He did not die! He was actually not shot to death!
'SYSTEM!!!! WHERE IS HE?!!! HOW DID HE SURVIVE!??? I BOUGHT THAT DAMN STUPID BUT EXPENSIVE DEVICE SO WHY DID HE STILL SURVIVE?!'
The thing questioned, of course, knew the answer. However,
Though angry, she chose to ignore the system. Her eyes then wandered all around, only to land to the now clear wordings on the wall. Like this morning, the letters were formed through the bullet holes. But unlike earlier, the current message was way more provocative. Or at least it successfully made Clarissa have a fit of hysteria greater than when she first received a letter.
The reason? Definitely not him knowing her plan to get Sofony Mendez to join their fray. Or him kindly informing her which site he plans to bomb next.
It was because at the end of his cleverly phrased wall of texts, or rather, the wall of high-blood-inducing insults, the boy's postscript said:
”Actually the reason I became your stalker is that I hate 'people' like you. Obvious, right? Hahahaha. Anyway, after I toyed you to death, I'll, of course, look for a new one to hunt. You won't want me to become bored, right? After all, someone like you has a worthless life. At least, doing me a favor will help you become productive to society. So how about we do this? I mean, how about you answer this?”
”Hehehehehehe, Miss Prettiest, our loveliest secondary host...”
The words that came after were written in a red blood-like substance scattered around the place where his fake corpse used to be, asking:
”May I know who your Original is?”
...