Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel

Chapter 434: Dylan The Hero?

Dylan had left early that morning, the sun barely rising over the horizon, its light just starting to pierce through the dense canopy of the forest.

The promise of a feast drove him onward as he tracked the elusive beast core rats, their meat a rare delicacy that the orphanage children seldom enjoyed.

His bow slung over his shoulder and a quiver full of arrows at his side, he moved with practiced silence, a hunter in his element.

By the time he returned, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dilapidated orphanage. The familiar sight that greeted him every evening was not what met his eyes this time. Instead, the orphanage was a scene of chaos and despair. Broken furniture lay strewn about, shattered pottery crunched underfoot, and the cries of children pierced the night air.

Panic surged through Dylan as he dropped his catch and rushed forward. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the urgency of his steps.

He found the children huddled together, some nursing fresh wounds, others clinging to one another in fear. Tear-streaked faces turned to him, their eyes filled with a mixture of relief and terror.

Dylan knelt beside the nearest child, a little girl whose leg was wrapped in a makeshift bandage. "What happened here?" he asked, his voice trembling with concern.

Before she could answer, another child, eyes wide with fear, blurted out, "Momo is in trouble!"@@@@

Without a second thought, Dylan sprang to his feet and sprinted towards the house. His mind raced with possibilities, each more dreadful than the last. As he burst through the doorway, he found Momo on the ground, her body shaking with sobs. The sight of her, usually so strong and composed, now reduced to tears, sent a chill through his spine.

He rushed to her side, gently lifting her face to meet his gaze. "Momo, what happened?" he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Through her tears, she managed to choke out, "They took him. They took Mich!"

Dylan’s blood ran cold. "Who took Mich?" he asked, though he feared he already knew the answer.

After all, they were a major gang with a lot of problems.

Dylan moved fast through the forest until he arrived at a location. This place was an old abandoned military camp.

Dylan frowned as he landed before the Camp.

Meanwhile, far above his head, a person, the same woman that had appeared after Deamon was done, watched the happenings below. she was in a lying position, and her legs dangled like a little girl enjoy a tale of her favorite hero.

Her eyes remained on Dylan as her teeth bit down on her fingers gently. "now, boy, I worked hard to see what you have to offer. Your friend was not boring. Try to impress this demi goddess."

.....

The abandoned military camp came into view, its weathered structures barely visible through the thick foliage. The camp had once been a stronghold, a bastion of defense against invaders. Now, it lay in ruins, its walls crumbling, and its once formidable gates hanging off their hinges. The remnants of old fortifications were overgrown with vines and moss, nature reclaiming what had been taken by man.

Scattered around the camp were the signs of recent habitation. Makeshift tents and lean-tos had been erected among the ruins, their patchwork construction a stark contrast to the once uniform military structures. The air was thick with the scent of wood smoke and roasting meat, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.

As Dylan crept closer, he saw the gang members lounging around a large bonfire in the center of the camp. Their laughter echoed through the night, a harsh and grating sound that grated on his nerves. Several of them were roasting meat over the fire, the sizzling fat sending up occasional sparks.

Dylan crouched behind a fallen log, his eyes narrowing as he observed the scene. The gang members were armed, their weapons glinting in the firelight.

They looked big, rough and battle-hardened, their faces marked by scars and their bodies adorned with crude tattoos visible even through their thick fur. It was clear they were expecting him; their demeanor was one of anticipation, as if they were waiting for a long-foreseen event.

"Keep your eyes open," one of them barked, his voice carrying across the camp. "He’ll be here soon enough. The boss wants him alive."

The other one laughed, "yeah, but that does not mean he can’t meet him crippled..."