Chapter 21: Gunshot in the Mirror
A pale, withered hand reached out from the mirror without warning and grabbed Alan's arm!
"Ah!" Alan gasped, instinctively trying to break free, but the hand's strength was incredible.
"Let her go!" Seeing this, Edward immediately rushed forward, pulled out his pure silver cross, and smashed it toward the ghostly hand.
"Sizzle—"
The holy light from the cross burned the ghostly hand, emitting a puff of black smoke, but the hand didn't let go—instead, it pulled Alan into the mirror with even greater force.
The demon seemed fixated on Alan; it could sense that the girl's soul was very special, very pure, and if it could absorb her, it might be able to break free from the mirror's prison and truly manifest in this world.
Edward watched as half of Alan's body was almost dragged in, and in desperation, he grabbed her waist and pulled her back with all his strength.
In that moment of struggle, more hands reached out from the mirror, wrapping around both of them. An irresistible force swept over them, and in a dizzying spin, Edward and Alan were forcibly pulled into the cold mirror surface.
After passing through a water-like barrier, the two fell heavily to the ground.
The sight before them made Edward's breath catch.
They were still in the mall, but this mall was a scene of decay and ruin. The walls were covered in mold and dark red stains, and the air was thick with the stench of rust and rotting flesh.
There were no lights on the ceiling, only clusters of eerie green flames, like will-o'-the-wisps, burning and illuminating this twisted world.
The surrounding mirrors still existed, but instead of their reflections, they showed distorted faces filled with pain and despair.
"Welcome to my world." A raspy voice echoed through the empty hall.
Edward and Alan looked up to see a blurred outline slowly forming on a main mirror in the center of the hall. It had no fixed shape, like a flowing shadow, but the pure malice emanating from it sent chills down one's spine.
At the same time, figures began to crawl out of the surrounding mirrors. Some wore tattered hospital gowns, their bodies twisted at grotesque angles; some were covered in needle marks and surgical sutures; others screamed silently, black blood flowing from their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths.
These were all the souls of patients who'd been trapped and tortured to death in the psychiatric hospital years ago; now, they'd become servants of this mirror demon.
The vengeful spirits let out low growls and shuffled toward the two, surrounding them.
Alan's face turned pale; although she was also a spirit, facing such a massive number of vengeful mirror spirits, she felt immense pressure.
"Stay behind me."
Edward positioned her behind him, his face showing no panic, but rather a hint of an excited smile.
With a flick of his wrists, two ornately designed black and white pistols appeared out of thin air: Ebony and Ivory.
"It's been way too long since I've had some action—I'm going stir-crazy." Edward checked the guns, his inner action hero coming alive.
A mirror spirit roared and lunged, opening its mouth full of rotten teeth to bite Edward's neck.
"Bang!"
Edward didn't even look up, firing a shot over his shoulder. A bullet shimmering with silver light accurately struck the mirror spirit's forehead. The mirror spirit's body instantly ignited with holy light, letting out a piercing shriek, and turned into a wisp of smoke in mid-air, vanishing without a trace.
One shot, one kill, clean and precise.
This sudden scene made all the mirror spirits freeze.
Alan looked at the two guns in Edward's hands in surprise; the pure energy they emitted was deadly to these evil beings. She hadn't expected that this seemingly laid-back guy would be packing such serious firepower.
"What? Too handsome for you?" Edward turned his head and winked at her, still finding time to crack jokes.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
As he spoke, both hands moved in unison, the black and white pistols seemingly coming alive in his grip, transforming into two deadly streaks of light. Gunshots played a magnificent symphony in the deathly silent hall, each shot representing the purification and liberation of a vengeful soul.
He sometimes slid sideways, dodging lunging claws, while simultaneously delivering a bullet of "rest"; other times, he leaped into the air, twisting his body mid-flight to shoot, taking out two mirror spirits attempting a sneak attack simultaneously. Special effects of holy light exploded with the bullets, illuminating the dark space with flickering light.
The entire scene, rather than a battle, was a one-sided massacre—a flashy and violent solo performance.
Alan stood behind him, watching the man's agile figure weave through the horde of ghosts, listening to the rhythmic gunfire, her shock immeasurable. That composure, that power, and that... damn, that handsomeness made her momentarily lost in thought.
So this was his true self.
The echoes of gunshots faded in the hall, and the last wisp of smoke merged into the stale air.
The entire mirror world fell into dead silence, leaving only scattered embers of holy light on the ground, proving that the magnificent slaughter just now wasn't an illusion.
Edward spun gracefully, holstering the smoking pistols, his movements fluid as if rehearsed countless times. He turned his head to look at Alan, who was still standing there stunned, and grinned.
"Show's over. How was it? No refunds."
Alan's gaze shifted from him, sweeping over the empty hall, her eyes conflicted. She'd seen many vengeful spirits, but never such a swift and decisive method of "salvation." Violent, direct, yet with a sacred beauty.
"Who exactly are you?" She finally asked the question.
"Just your friendly neighborhood high school student with a strong sense of justice," Edward replied with mock seriousness.
Alan clearly didn't believe him but didn't push further, simply changing the subject: "Don't celebrate too soon. The small fries are cleared, but the boss hasn't shown up yet."
"Then let's go find it," Edward said, leading the way deeper into the hall.
The two walked side by side through the dilapidated psychiatric hospital. Under their feet was a rotting floor, and all around were stained walls and tightly closed ward doors. The mixed scent of rust and decaying flesh in the air grew heavier, making it hard to breathe.
"How is Maria?" Edward asked casually, breaking the silence.
Alan's footsteps faltered, and she turned her head to look at him, the dim ghostly fire casting flickering shadows on her face.
"You seem pretty concerned about her."
"She's a good kid, just a bit timid."
Alan was silent for a moment, seemingly organizing her thoughts.
"I am Maria, and Maria is me," she slowly began, her voice sounding somewhat ethereal in the empty corridor, "Or rather, we should have been one person."
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