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Chapter 15: Bloodstained Tracks

  "Life energy 1000 points. Hunter? Enemy?" The moment Buck saw the unexpected guest in front of him, this thought flashed through his mind.

  A strong and dangerously intense aura surged toward him, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up instantly. It was as if an invisible hand had gently brushed past him, sending a bone-chilling cold through his body.

  The hunter who opened the door showed no hesitation, nor did he utter a word. He suddenly raised the chainsaw high, the sharp gust of wind accompanying the strike, as he fiercely swung it toward Buck!

  The chainsaw’s swing was as fast as lightning, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. However, it was no match for the divine corpse hand. Almost at the same time the hunter attacked, Buck’s divine corpse hand shot out like a dark red lightning bolt.

  The arm, glowing with eerie light, left a lingering afterimage in the air and precisely grabbed the hunter’s head. There was a dull explosion, like a watermelon being crushed, and the hunter’s head instantly turned into a pool of blood and shattered bones.

  Buck calmly stood up, his expression unruffled, as if what had just happened was a trivial matter. He controlled the divine corpse hand to forcefully tear off the hunter’s arm, then casually threw it away.

  The body flew like a rag, shattering the window of the compartment corridor with a crash. It spun and fell out of the speeding train, disappearing into the distant tracks.

  Inside the compartment, the two maids and Doug were terrified by the sudden bloodbath. Their faces turned pale, bodies trembling uncontrollably, huddled together with fear in their eyes.

  “Hide in the luggage compartment and don’t come out,” Buck turned and solemnly instructed them. Seeing Doug trying to hide in the same compartment with the twin maids, he added, “You, hide in another one.” Doug recoiled and hurriedly followed his instructions, his legs weak, nearly crawling into another luggage compartment.

  Buck closed the compartment door, took a deep breath, and walked steadily toward the front of the train. He had already anticipated that a bloody scene awaited him ahead. Sure enough, when he stepped into the next car, a gruesome sight met his eyes.

  The bloodstained chainsaw had silently claimed the lives of many people in the front part of the train, including the conductor and more than ten royal guards tasked with protecting the train. Their bodies lay scattered on the floor, blood pooling in dark red puddles, the air thick with the stench of blood, enough to make one gag.

  It seemed that this train had been targeted by a powerful and dangerous enemy, Buck thought to himself. The steam locomotive was speeding at fifty to sixty kilometers per hour on the tracks. If it were a high-level hunter, with their extraordinary agility, it would be possible to leap onto the train from the sides of the tracks. It seemed that the journey with Prince Roland to the capital would not be peaceful.

  Without hesitation, Buck decisively turned around and marched toward the rear section of the train where Roland was. Not long after, he encountered royal guards blocking his way.

  “The train has been attacked by hunters. Everyone ahead is dead,” Buck said with a cold expression and a low voice. The guards’ faces turned pale upon hearing this, and one of them immediately sent someone to confirm the situation.

  “I must see Prince Roland,” Buck added. This time, he was not stopped. After all, he was a noble, and it was completely reasonable for him to request shelter after such a dangerous attack. However, Buck's purpose was not to seek shelter. He had a strong intuition that Prince Roland was in extreme danger, and he couldn’t let this crucial “long-term ticket” face any problems.

  When Buck walked into the luxurious compartment made of entire train cars and saw the prince, before he could even speak, there was a sudden burst of intense gunfire from behind. The dense gunfire echoed through the narrow train car like firecrackers.

  At the same time, the terrifying sound of chainsaws slicing through flesh and bone could be heard, sharp and eerie, sending a chill down one’s spine, as if demons from hell were roaring.

  The enemy had arrived. Buck narrowed his eyes, a look of vigilance and resolve flashing across his gaze. He slowly turned around. Several hunters disguised as supernatural beings in the compartment exchanged glances. At Fenris’s signal, they immediately rushed forward like arrows, prepared to engage in a deadly battle with the enemy. However, once they left, it was as if they had vanished into thin air, never to return.

  The royal guards quickly set up a rotating steam rifle at the door of the spacious buffer car in front. This heavy weapon was connected to a metal backpack on the guards' backs and was powered by a winch and steam compression, seemingly capable of continuous fire. The rifle’s cold metallic sheen gave it the appearance of a sleeping beast, ready to unleash a deadly roar at any moment.

  Just then, the door of the opposing car was suddenly kicked open with great force, emitting a muffled crash. A tall figure appeared in Buck’s sight, causing his pupils to contract slightly.

  “What’s going on? Wasn’t he already dead?” Buck’s mind was filled with shock and confusion. The blood-soaked hunter standing before him was the very same one whose head he had crushed with his divine corpse hand moments ago! Buck had even consumed the hunter's arm, absorbing some of his life energy, yet now this hunter was standing alive in front of him.

  The hunter had beast-like pupils glowing with an eerie light, as if he could see through people’s hearts. His face was gaunt, lined with deep grooves, as if he had endured countless years of hardship. When he saw Buck in the distance through the crowd, a cruel smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, filled with malice and murderous intent that sent a chill down one’s spine.

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  The royal guards’ steam rifles roared as bullets rained down on the hunter. For a moment, smoke filled the train car, and the acrid scent of gunpowder permeated the air. However, the enemy suddenly moved. His actions were strange and swift, like a ghost.

  In the not-so-spacious car, he darted left and right, his movements as agile as a leopard. With just a few steps, he covered a large distance and easily avoided the barrage of gunfire.

  The hunter’s movements appeared so graceful and deadly in Buck’s eyes. He immediately judged that these guards would not be able to withstand the enemy’s attack. Sure enough, as the hunter rapidly moved along the side of the car, his chainsaw gleamed coldly in the air, effortlessly decapitating a guard who had been shooting. The head flew up with a burst of blood, then fell heavily to the ground.

  The soldiers in the rear, seeing the situation, swiftly drew their blades, preparing for close combat with the enemy. However, their movements were too slow, and before they could strike, the sawblade in the hunter's hand slashed through their throats, blood gushing out like a fountain, instantly staining the floor of the carriage. Every attack from the hunter was a lethal blow. He seemed like an emotionless killing machine, leaving a trail of blood and death in his wake.

  Buck began to slowly retreat, fully aware that this enemy was far too powerful for him to deal with alone. Meanwhile, Fenris in the carriage, upon seeing the enemy, widened his eyes in fear and panic. It seemed that he recognized the hunter’s identity, his lips trembling in disbelief, almost unable to believe his own eyes.

  A Fifth-Stage Hunter, the Undying Montette! Why is he here? Fenris’ heart was filled with confusion and terror. But there was no time to think further. In the span of just a few breaths, an entire squad of royal guards had already fallen, their bodies piling up in the carriage to form a mountain of flesh.

  Swords and bullets lodged into Montette’s body, but he seemed completely unfazed, still grinning manically, advancing through the carnage. His body was now drenched in blood, and the floor of the carriage was also soaked, transforming the entire carriage into a living hell.

  Fenris glanced back at Prince Roland, who had risen to his feet, his face filled with determination. Fenris knew the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders—he could not let Prince Roland be harmed, even if it cost him his life. He lifted his cloak, drew his ornate short gun and silver sword, and without hesitation, charged at Montette.

  “Even if I die here, I cannot let Prince Roland be harmed!” Fenris shouted, his voice filled with unwavering resolve. The remaining five or six hunters also drew their weapons and followed him, their eyes filled with the same determination and courage.

  They all knew the enemy’s strength, but they were also fearless hunters—their whole lives intertwined with death, hunting the dark supernatural.

  There was only one exception: Veronica, who huddled in the corner, looking at the terrifying enemy with a heart full of fear and despair. No matter how hard she tried, she could not summon the courage to face the sawblade. Her body trembled violently, her eyes filled with helplessness and confusion, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

  The hunters joined the battle with swift steps, their steel blades flashing coldly in the narrow buffer carriage, almost filling the entire space. The desperate battle raged fiercely in the confined space, where both sides’ agility advantages were minimized. Yet, in terms of raw strength, the hunters were still no match for Montette.

  The sawblade carried immense force, cleaving through the hunters’ silver swords and even severing their arms with its lightning-fast, vicious strikes. Montette’s combat skill seemed to have surpassed all the hunters; every movement he made was fluid and deadly, leaving no chance to counter. Even Fenris, the most experienced Third-Stage Hunter, was thoroughly suppressed and pushed into a corner.

  When casualties reached a critical point, the hunters finally discarded all restrictions, pulling the triggers of their short guns. The deafening roars of gunfire erupted as powerful blood-red bullets flew through the carriage, blasting large holes in the sidewalls. The bullets whizzed by, creating a fierce gust of wind that caused the hunters’ clothing to flutter.

  Fenris thrust a sword into himself, and the spurting blood instantly vaporized into steaming white mist, enveloping his entire body. The next moment, his form seemed to blur, and he passed through every obstacle around him, heading straight for the enemy’s heart! With all his strength and resolve, Fenris’ silver sword pierced Montette’s body. Immediately, four more blades stabbed in, creating multiple blood holes in the Fifth-Stage Hunter’s body. Blood poured out from these holes, staining Montette’s clothing.

  The hunter holding the sawblade collapsed, still wearing a vicious grin.

  “Dead?” The hunters were momentarily stunned, their eyes showing a mix of confusion and surprise. But the next moment, a sawblade flashed beneath their feet, moving as fast as lightning, severing several of their ankles. The hunters screamed in agony and fell to the ground.

  Fenris suddenly realized something, shouting, “We can’t kill him! Trap him!” But it was too late. No one could contain the beast that remained unharmed. Montette stood up, his body seemingly untouched, the sawblade in his hand cutting elegant arcs as he swiftly severed head after head. The hunters' screams echoed through the carriage, striking terror into anyone who heard them.

  Buck, hearing the hunters’ screams, slowly closed the large door to the front carriage. His face was grim, his eyes filled with shock and worry. He had just witnessed something shocking—this monstrous being, whose health had been completely depleted, suddenly fully restored after falling, his life energy quickly replenishing! Rebirth. Immortality. Such an enemy was the perfect counter to him. His Divine Corpse Hand could crush Montette, but it couldn’t prevent him from standing up again.

  Buck quickly approached Prince Roland, his expression cold, and spoke in a low voice, “Your Highness, please come with me to the rear carriage.”

  “It’s useless,” Roland replied with a bitter smile. The door behind him was opened, and a squad of royal guards rushed in to set up a defense. More guards were attempting to charge in but were stopped by Roland’s raised hand.

  “Even if all my men die, we won’t stop that thing.”

  “Your Highness, do you know his identity?” Buck frowned, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

  Roland nodded. “The Undying Montette, a fallen one who should have been imprisoned in the Death Prison.”

  “Undying? Your Highness, do you know how many times he can revive?”

  “No one knows.”

  …

  In the front carriage, the sidewalls were completely destroyed by immense force, and only the floor remained. All the hunters were dead, and only Fenris, captured by Montette, remained. Fenris gritted his teeth, blood constantly flowing from his mouth, and in truth, he was only half alive. His eyes were filled with frustration and rage, yet he was powerless.

  “May you find eternal life in death.” Montette stared at Fenris’ dilating pupils, a cruel smile forming at the corner of his lips. He casually tossed Fenris’ half-dead body out of the train…

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