Mystery Paradise: Wishing Power Demon

There's only one kind of person in the world who can treat bullets as if they were nothing.

Heretical Cultists.

They either rely on blasphemous spells or bizarre drugs to strip away their senses, appearing like the living dead.

But the cultists wouldn't be fighting against them, would they?

Ghost reached the entrance to the east corridor and realized just how fierce the battle had been—bloodstains were everywhere on the ground and the walls, several of his subordinates were seriously injured and moaning non-stop on the floor, and the dead rat looked as though it had been soaked through with blood.

He crouched down, tore open the deceased's robe, and couldn't help but exhale in relief—the person wasn't a cultist, at least not judging by the softness of the body. However, Ghost quickly made a new discovery. He noticed an odd vest underneath the clothes, riddled with holes, yet overall intact. There was hardly any blood seeping from the bullet holes.

"What is this?"

Ghost had his men remove the rat's vest.

"Seems like... some kind of armor?" one of his men hesitated to say.

It wasn't thick to the touch and could be easily folded, yet it effectively blocked the bullets from a steam rifle, something Ghost had never seen before.

"Probably a new product, no wonder they're so tough to deal with," he decided without further hesitation, immediately issuing an order, "Call in the brothers from outside too, everyone except those guarding the east wall. I want everyone!"

"Are you sure? If we do that, there won't be anyone left to watch the fugitives who just ran off."

"No matter, execute them where they are," Ghost said coldly. "There's no shortage of prisoners. The priority is to completely eradicate the rats here... don't forget, our superior is watching."

"Yes!"

Although those outside weren't exactly his confidants, they were reliable enough to deal with the rats. With both groups combined, he had more than twenty men; he didn't believe that those six rats could cause any more trouble.

No, one of them was already dead, leaving only five.

...

"Damn, how can they still have reinforcements?" Joe James complained.

Even without leaving the room, they could tell from the noisy footsteps that the number of their opponents was continuously increasing.

"Isn't that to be expected?" Zhang Zhiyuan retorted irritably. He had never imagined that he would have to cooperate with the very people he was supposed to capture. "Not all of those outside are gang members; at least some are undercover backup police. Once they realize we are tough to deal with, they'll surely call in additional forces."

"How many will there be?"

"Who knows, our only advantage is that we're hidden in the dark. Anyway, this theater is big enough, we can wear this trash down gradually."

"That won't do," Qianyuan Mingzi objected, which was rare for her. "Don't forget the reporter is still outside. We can drag this out, but he can't."

"Shit, I almost forgot about that!" the American slapped his thigh. "He didn't follow us in!"

Everyone rolled their eyes in unison.

"You're the one who didn't bring him in," Zhou Zhi rebuked. "You can't expect a heavily injured person to run as fast as you do."

"I couldn't bring him," Tyler finally spoke up. "At that time, we were being targeted by several guns. It was lucky enough that we could make it safely into the corridor, there was no way to carry an injured person with us."

"That's right, just like Tyler said!" Joe James glared back at the crowd, "If you're all so eager to save someone, why don't you try carrying one?"

"Enough, stop arguing!" Zhang Zhiyuan forcefully slapped the floor, "Host, is that reporter still alive?"

"For now, yes." Chaoyang appeared in time to speak, "The attention of those outside is all on you guys, and Dane is now unguarded."

"Good, good." Everyone couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

"But this situation won't last forever." Only Mingzi had a grave expression, "If we drag on too long, allowing them to realize setting the scene is no longer possible, they will definitely spare a hand to silence him. And once hide-and-seek starts, the pressure we can exert on them will greatly lower, and the reporter will get in real danger then."

"It's almost one A.M. now, it will take them about two hours to set up the bodies in the form of a clock. If we delay another hour, they might change their plan and simply kill the victims." Tyler concurred, "So we have to strike back, just like before."

Joe James frowned, "I'm not against going head-to-head, but they have reinforcements. Facing a dozen guns, we're not necessarily going to win. If we lose, that would be incredibly frustrating."

"I have an idea," Zhou Zhi hesitated for a moment before speaking, "but I'm not sure if it's feasible."

"Spit it out."

"There are chandeliers all over the hall above, they contain either lamp oil or flammable grease. If we can knock them over..."

The American's eyes lit up, "The hall will erupt into a sea of flames!"

"Not just the hall... I'm worried about the entire theater possibly catching fire." Zhou Zhi paused briefly, "I've looked over it, the seats are all covered with velvet, and the floors are wooden; once ignited, it's almost impossible to control the blaze."

Living creatures inherently fear the intense heat of flames and thick smoke; once a great fire breaks out nearby, the enemy's numerical advantage would cease to exist.

And the cost would be the Sinclair Grand Theatre turning into a pile of ruins.

"Kid, not bad at all!" Joe James smacked him forcefully, "Burn, let it all burn; I'd love to see it get as chaotic as possible! Let's do this!"

"Sorry to be a wet blanket," Tyler intervened, "but the builders also knew that thing can't fall, so it's all fixed with iron chains. We only have three crossbows; how do you propose we knock over a chandelier weighing hundreds of kilograms?"

"Um, well..."

"There's a way," Zhou Zhi's finger traced in the air, opening the exchange interface, "right in the life assistance category—"

In Zhang Zhiyuan's mind, a flash of insight sparked!

Thermite!

"That's it... A small packet of thermite, for 50 exchange points," Zhou Zhi explained. "If it's just spread out as a fire starter, it burns out in a few seconds. But if concentrated in one spot and used in just the right position..."

The temperature soaring up to 3000 degrees would melt any fixing!

"The issue is, someone will have to reach the top level to place these things, and there might be enemy attacks on the way..."

"I'll go," Zhang Zhiyuan waved his hand, signaling to Zhou Zhi that there was no need to continue, "There must be stairs to the upper levels in the corridors, just wait for my signal."

"Take this." Qianyuan Meiko handed him her dagger, "We'll also start an offensive from below, drawing their attention."

"Thanks." Zhang Zhiyuan slung the crossbow on his back, stuck the dagger at his waist, and finally grabbed the four packets of thermite that everyone had exchanged with their remaining points, and ran towards the other end of the corridor.