Lorenzo walked onto the empty street and sat on a bench not far from the alley. The demons in the alley had already been killed by him, the sharp Nail Sword piercing their hearts, thoroughly severing the spinal cords connecting to their heads.
At this moment, they were nothing but a mass of grotesque, hateful flesh, emitting a disturbing aura, decaying and dying little by little in the darkness.
He reached into the pocket of his pajamas, rummaging around to find a crumpled cigarette. After searching through his pockets, unable to find a lighter, he could only slightly trigger the Secret Blood, the blazing white flames ignited the tobacco, and he inhaled deeply, puffing out clouds of smoke.
