Dusk leisurely stepped out of the diner, a look of utter relief spread across his face.
Being around Garrick and Darius constantly forced him to maintain the facade of a "decent man." But now, with the chance to act alone, a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
"Where should I go next? I still need four more hearts, but I can't act anywhere near here. If I do anything shady nearby, those two might think I don't trust them — or start to suspect me."
As he walked, he mulled over his next move. At the moment, he had nothing more than the strength of an ordinary human, which made committing crimes like these particularly difficult.
Suddenly, his eyes widened as a thought struck him. His expression relaxed.
With three hundred years of experience, he had wandered through countless places. Coincidentally, there was one nearby that might be perfect for what he needed.
"If I remember right, there's a huge forest near the neighboring city. A well-known tourist spot, actually. Heading there might not be a bad idea. Acting in the woods makes it much easier to cover my tracks." Dusk murmured to himself, the corners of his lips curling into a sly grin.
Killing in a forest and disposing of the body was a far simpler task than trying to pull something off in the middle of a city. Besides, he was still a wanted man—staying in town wasn't exactly safe.
After all, no one really understood this "new era" yet. Everything was just beginning. At this point, there weren't any crazed killers running rampant.
Earthquakes were still common occurrences, even large ones. People chalked them up as natural disasters, not signs of social collapse.
After walking for another five minutes, Dusk came to a sudden stop.
He had just realized something critically important:
He didn't know the way.
His memory wasn't all that reliable. Three hundred years left too many things and too many stories. He only remembered the things he deemed important. The rest, he had willfully forgotten.
"Ugh, what now? If I wander around like this in broad daylight, someone's bound to recognize me," Dusk muttered, scratching his head.
Just then, a foul stench hit his nose. His eyes lit up. He had stumbled upon a mountain of garbage—or rather, his salvation.
"Ha! Perfect. Time to change."
Without hesitation, he hopped over the fence and jumped into the trash heap once more.
Inside the trash-laden space reeking of rot and decay, Dusk wrinkled his nose. The stench was unbearable—and worse, far too conspicuous for public areas.
"Ever since I started running from the cops, I've been rushing nonstop… I completely forgot about this. If I wander around smelling like this, it's bound to raise suspicion. Hmm? What's that sound? Running water?"
The slight gurgle reverberated through the garbage mound, and he became alert. He followed the sound carefully and eventually saw a man washing his hands.
Under the dim, flickering light, Dusk noticed that the man's uniform was relatively new—definitely in better condition than the filthy rags clinging to his own body.
"Perfect. Kill him, take the uniform, find a new backpack, and slip away unnoticed."
The thought sprang to his mind in an instant—but then he stopped himself, shaking his head.
"Whew… That was close. With 300 years of experience, I nearly made a rookie mistake. Killing outright like that would be too risky—those two might start suspecting something."
The worker began moving again, and Dusk quietly tailed him from a distance, formulating a more careful plan.
Eventually, the man entered a small, makeshift shack, barely holding itself together. Dusk squinted. Just barely, he could make out the shape of two gas canisters inside.
An idea ignited in his mind.
Fire!
Burn the place down. Reduce it all to ash and smoke—no witnesses, no evidence.
"Stay calm… One slip, and everything ends. Let's hope there aren't too many people inside."
He gently set down his backpack, keeping only the best knife he had for protection. Quietly, deliberately, he advanced toward the shack.
With each step, his movements grew heavier—burdened not by fear, but by the pressure. This was a one-shot plan: success or death. No in-betweens.
"Hahhh…"
He let out a slow breath, steadying his nerves. He had reached the perfect vantage point. From here, he could observe everything.
A quick scan revealed five people inside, including the one who just walked in.
"Five, huh? No way I can take them all head-on. I'll have to wait until they fall asleep. If they leave before that… well, guess I'm just unlucky."
With a sigh, Dusk silently retreated to his hiding spot behind a mountain of trash. His body may have been that of a mere mortal, but staying awake another day wouldn't kill him. After all, without stamina, a porter couldn't survive long in this line of work.
From the shadows, he watched. He listened. Observing every shift, every sound, and scanning for any unexpected variables.
Time slipped by.
Eventually, the lights inside the shack went dark—but Dusk didn't move.
"Not yet. They've only just lain down. Give them time to fall deeper."
Patience paid off. Of the five, only one had left—politely bidding farewell before disappearing into the darkness, a sign he wouldn't be returning anytime soon.
Roughly thirty minutes passed.
Dusk pulled a cloth over his face, took his sharpest knife, and crept toward the shack like a shadow taking shape.
Fortune, it seemed, was favoring him tonight. The door wasn't even locked.
Perhaps the remoteness of the dump had dulled their caution. Who would rob a place like this, after all?
But Dusk is no ordinary robber; he is someone who wants to steal your heart… someone who brings great love to steal your heart…
He wore only socks to muffle his steps. Silent as mist, he entered the shack.
It was small and cramped.
Three slept in the main room. One more in the kitchen.
Dusk eyed the trio first.
The fourth… he'd handle differently. Wouldn't want blood splatter ruining the uniform.
The three before him looked vulnerable in sleep—but he knew better.
If he didn't end them within seconds, the slightest noise could spell disaster.
There was no room for hesitation.
No room for mercy.
Just a few seconds… and everything would be decided.