novelraw Chapter 190: The Real and Fake Wilbur
Chapter 190: The Real and Fake Wilbur
The next second,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang—!
A storm of gunfire exploded in the rainy, foggy greenhouse!
With every shot, a wet, bursting sound echoed from a distant shadow—
Thump! Thump-thump...
The sound of Scarlet Widows’ carapaces punching through, their poison sacs bursting!
Several spiders, lunging from their hiding spots for the kill, were picked off one by one by the precise, lethal Insect Bullets!
Their mangled corpses, splattering venom, rained down.
And after it all,
The Scalpel, juiced by the temporary Ritual, wasn’t even winded.
With a flick of his wrist, he holstered the sleek pistol.
Using the motion, his body flowed into a swift, fluid turn.
The pale daggers, riddled with holes, were already in his hands, grip reversed.
Their blades carved cold arcs in the dim light, stabbing straight back—at the chest of the predator lunging at him, scarlet spider legs outstretched!
Clang! Clang-clang-clang—!
In the blink of an eye, The Scalpel and Aldrich exchanged another brutal flurry of blows in the slick mud and shattered foliage!
The sound of steel on chitin was as dense as the rain!
While he kept up the high-intensity close-quarters fight, a grave look settled on Aldrich’s face. Even with a hasty Ritual, the power The Scalpel was showing wasn’t to be underestimated. His reflexes, his explosive strength, his control of the rhythm… it was all top-tier.
If Wilbur wasn’t there, flanking with his poison mists and the constant threat of an ambush, interfering with The Scalpel’s focus…
Facing The Scalpel alone, he’d be on the defensive in minutes. Or forced to retreat.
Just then,
The ghost-like figure in front of him flickered!
One of his stabbing spider-legs, whistling through the air, met nothing!
The Scalpel, using the recoil from a parry, slippery as an eel!
He didn’t press the attack on Aldrich.
He broke, changing direction in a flash, pouncing on Wilbur, who was trying to cut off his escape!
Aldrich’s pupils shrank.
Then, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He relaxed. He didn’t give chase. Instead, he used the brief pause—The Scalpel having switched targets—to fall back half a step.
The scarlet spider-legs behind him retracted, gathering power for something bigger.
The next moment,
The Scalpel was on Wilbur like a cheetah!
The pale dagger in his hand, no frills, just pure killing intent, whistled through the rain in a single, downward slash!
Clang!
A sound sharper, more solid than any before rang out.
For the first time, something flickered across The Scalpel’s face. Surprise.
Wilbur’s right hand was encased in a shell of dark yellow, hardened pus, its surface lumpy and veined!
That swollen, deformed arm, now suddenly shelled, had actually blocked the edge of The Scalpel’s razor-sharp dagger!
What’s more,
the pus-covered hand suddenly clenched!
It gripped the dagger.
Without hesitation, Wilbur’s other hand, also covered in a shell of pus, swung up!
Beneath the shell, his muscles bulged and writhed.
The power of a Third-Rank Transcendent, mixed with an aura of plague and rot, exploded!
That fist, a mace of hardened pus, smashed toward The Scalpel’s gut with a dull whistle!
Screech—!
It was the grating sound of steel scraping a hard object before finally tearing flesh.
In the end, The Scalpel’s dagger was just sharper. It sheared through the coagulated shell on Wilbur’s palm.
A deep gash opened, revealing the white-red tendons beneath, and bone tinged with a sickly, purplish-green.
But the all-out punch from his other hand…
naturally, it missed.
The instant his dagger was grabbed and the fist-wind hit his face, The Scalpel bent backward at an impossible angle, his feet sliding, dodging the blow by a hair.
Wilbur’s attack had failed completely. He’d only managed to hurt himself.
But,
his sudden, surprisingly strong block had bought Aldrich all the time he needed.
By the time The Scalpel had freed himself and reset his stance,
Aldrich was lunging forward again!
The pair of scarlet appendages, even more ferocious this time, dragged him right back into the meat grinder.
The clash between the two of them fell back into a stalemate.
..................
“It looks like…”
“this Wilbur isn’t the problem.”
Nicole pulled off the goggles and looked at Ember.
A hint of relief, but also confusion, colored her voice.
Ember also took off the strange-looking device.
On her scarred face, a smile bloomed. A look of understanding. Of relief.
The next moment,
the words she spoke made Nicole’s brow furrow deeply.
“No.”
“The result is precisely the opposite.”
“Now, I can be certain—”
“that person on the battlefield is absolutely not the real Wilbur.”
“What?!”
Nicole’s voice shot up. Her face was a mask of disbelief.
His appearance, his features, the subtle tells of his fighting style, even the crucial part—the unique abilities…
他的外形、面部特征，他战斗风格中那些细微的蛛丝马迹，甚至连最关键的部分——那些独一无二的能力……
She couldn’t find a single thing wrong with the “Wilbur” on the battlefield.
Even the slight stiffness in his movements, the tell-tale sign of a hidden injury, it was all there. It all matched the intel.
So why…
“You can’t see anything wrong?”
“Then that’s exactly right.”