Chapter 190: Getting Gun with Azrael?
Leo and Azrael sat in the car as Azrael drove the slick car down the roads, her hands steady on the wheel as the engine roared beneath them, zooming faster yet still controlled. The headlights cut through the dusky glow, painting streaks of silver across the passing streets.
Though they hadn’t spoken since they got in... Leo found himself surprised at how she drove.
The smooth handling of the vehicle was far different from Raphael’s wild, almost murderous driving style that left his nerves shredded every time.
Compared to that chaos, this felt... calm, deliberate, and smooth. Still, he could sense that Azrael wasn’t just driving; she was partially trying to impress him, showing control, speed, and elegance all at once.
Azrael glanced at Leo’s calm expression, noticing how he leaned against the window, his gaze fixed on the outside world. The scenery blurred into lines of colour—the zooming lights, the rushing shadows, the buildings flashing past.
Everything looked distorted, yet somehow it all carried a strange calm that mirrored the boy’s quiet demeanour.
Azrael pouted slightly. Here she was, practically performing for him, and he just sat there—expressionless.
She coughed softly, forcing his attention toward her. His eyes shifted lazily, calm as ever.
"So... how is school?" Her tone carried a casual edge.
"It’s fine,"
"What did you do?"
"Nothing much."
"... Did you have a test?" she pressed, her fingers tightening against the wheel.
"Not that I think of."
"... A-Any future goals?" Her voice cracked slightly, the forced casualness slipping.
"Nah."
"..."
Azrael’s face turned blank, but inside, she was screaming. ’Just don’t give me one-word answers, damn it!! Give me something!’
It was painfully awkward; the conversation refused to take a forward step. She was pushing, but he wasn’t meeting her halfway. Without the other party’s involvement, everything died on her tongue.
Did that mean... Leo wasn’t interested in her at all?
Azrael’s chest tightened, her heart sinking. She had wanted to make an impression, to carve herself into his memory, but every attempt seemed to collapse into nothing.
What words could bridge this gap?
What speech could pierce that wall of calm he wore like armor?
Her gaze flickered to him again... then she caught it. His eyes were not on her, but on the wheel. He was staring at the emblem, that strange ’X’ symbol carved into the design.
Azrael seized the chance, clearing her throat and forcing her tone into something brighter.
"Do you know this company? It’s pretty famous."
"Nah... It’s fine, I don’t need to know"
Leo shrugged. His eyes moved away as if it barely interested him. In truth, all the companies here were foreign to him. This was his first time seeing a car marked with an ’X’ and such a strange emblem, and curiosity was all that had drawn his eyes there.
Azrael’s expression cracked, like glass splintering under pressure.
She clenched the wheel hard, her knuckles whitening, before slamming her foot on the gas. The car growled, tyres gripping as the speed surged. She drove faster, reckless in her frustration.
She didn’t understand.... She didn’t freaking understand what this boy wanted.
This was her first time wearing this kind of model clothes... all for him, all so he would notice her, maybe say something, give her a compliment. And yet... he sat there like a monk who had reached enlightenment or something beyond it!
Meanwhile, Leo, on the other hand, kept a composed expression.
Inside though, his thoughts were less still. ’Damn, I can see her belly button...’ he gulped inwardly, the sight burning at the edge of his vision. He never thought Azrael, of all people, would wear something so... revealing?!
Well, come on... she was Raphael’s friend. At the very least, she should be a little conservative, right? Even if not fully like Raphael, at least halfway there.
It was like the two of them were Fire and Water, and yet somehow...
’How in the world did they even become friends?’ he wondered with an amused tone in his mind.
He forced his eyes to stay fixed on the glass window, though the cursed reflection in the mirror betrayed him. It dragged his gaze toward her curves whether he wanted it or not.
’I HAVE GIRLFRIENDS, BASTARD!’ He screamed inwardly at himself, fighting every nerve in his body, commanding his eyes not to linger on another woman in any weird way, even if temptation was laid out before him.
He needed to be like a Buddha, reaching enlightenment just to resist. He already had two girlfriends.
He needed to stay faithful.
The last thing he wanted was to break their faith.
He would never do that.
Relationships were new to him... that was why he was taking everything so seriously. Even though he had two girlfriends, still, he took it all with a heavy sense of duty.
This wasn’t some passing play to him; it was real, and he knew he had to protect it.
As the car zoomed faster and the minutes stretched like an eternity, the journey finally came to a halt.
They stopped in front of... a gun shop!
Leo and Azrael stepped out of the car together. Leo’s eyes locked on the massive gun-shaped logo hanging above, bold and wide.
So it really was legal to purchase firearms here?
This was the reason he had asked for her help. Since Azrael carried a gun, Leo thought it best to rely on her. After all, he was still underage, not allowed to have one by himself.
For what purpose?
Of course—to deal with those monsters.
Would it even work? Maybe not. But still, being prepared was always better than standing empty-handed, right?
That was why he had asked her to get a gun for him and for Raphael.
"Come on, let’s go before they close this place," Azrael said as she casually took his hand, her fingers slipping around his like they had done it a thousand times.
It felt almost like a girlfriend’s gesture, pulling him into the shop without hesitation.
Upon entering, Leo’s nose twitched. A harsh scent struck him at once—the mixture of aged wood, cold iron, and sharp gunpowder filled the air. It was a smell he had never encountered before, heavy and metallic, biting down his throat. He gulped, his throat feeling strange, the taste of the air lingering unnaturally.
He followed Azrael deeper inside. She led him directly to the shopkeeper.
The man stood behind the counter—old, with a stern expression carved into his features, as if the weight of the world had pressed his face into permanent seriousness. His eyes were cold, watchful, and unreadable.
Even approaching him felt like walking into danger.
Leo couldn’t help but wonder, ’How in the world is he still running this place with a face like that?’
Leo wondered, however, Azrael said with a haughty tone, "Yo, old man..." as she slammed her hand on the table without any kind of manners.
Leo flinched. ... What the hell was she doing here?
The old man didn’t react for a second, then his brows tugged together with deep wrinkles, his expression twisting into a pissed-off glare. Finally, he parted his mouth and said,
"Don’t call me old~!!!"
Leo froze, horrified—not at the words themselves, but at the tone. It was... womanly?
The fuck?
"What are you looking at~!!" the old man snapped, snorting in Leo’s direction.
Leo blinked hard and snapped out of his thoughts. "I—I am sorry, sir... ma’am..." His words trailed off, his face turning sour.
Shit! He didn’t want to deal with some kind of identity issue right now!!
The old man’s voice was strange... like when a man tried to mimic a woman’s pitch, but failed—ending up with a weird, childish tone instead.
Leo looked at Azrael, only to find her covering her mouth, trying not to burst out laughing. She clearly enjoyed his suffering. Chuckling softly, she said, "During his hunt, he kind of got attacked by an animal and lost his real voice." She spoke with a gentle smile, her expression soft. Then, puffing her chest a little, she added proudly, "And I am his doctor."
The old man snorted again, but there was a crooked smile tugging at his lips as he shook his head. "Anyway... what did you come for now?~ Another gun?~"
Leo took a deep breath. He wanted to laugh so badly at the man’s ridiculous tone, but he knew that would be insulting and definitely the wrong move. Forcing down the laughter, he steadied himself and said, "I need something that could penetrate... twelve inches of thickness."
Azrael’s eyebrows shot up. "Twelve inches?"
The old man frowned too, clearly surprised by the request. His eyes narrowed before he asked, "What are you planning to do?~ And first of all... who are you, and what’s your age?~ ID, please~~"
Leo gulped, suddenly tense. His eyes darted toward Azrael, silently begging for help. She, already prepared, stepped forward smoothly. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, she smiled and declared, "He is my fiancé."
Leo’s eyes widened in pure horror.
Azrael leaned in close, whispering into his ear, "Just go with it... Otherwise, this old man won’t agree!"
Leo blinked rapidly. That wasn’t supposed to be the plan. He wanted her to take the responsibility, not push it on him. Still... if she didn’t mind, then maybe he shouldn’t either.
After all, it was just a word, right?
The old man flinched, eyes flicking between them before he nodded slowly. His lips curved into a sly grin as he muttered,
"So that’s why you dressed like a whore, ah~"
"PUFFF!!!"
Leo almost burst out laughing before clamping a hand over his mouth. Damn it, the old man had hit the nail on the head.
Azrael’s face turned pale, dead inside, her expression collapsing in a single instant. ... The fuck?!
Whore?
She looks like a whore?
The fuck was the old man talking about?
"I see... I see~" The old man nodded to himself. "Well." He glanced at Leo once again; the boy looked old enough. "ID?"
Azrael snapped out of her horror and said with a tight face, "Due to certain complications, he didn’t get his ID, so... can you do it for me?"
The old man hummed, suspicious. He knew that sounded wrong and could cause trouble, but he found himself looking at the woman who had come all the way, who had come simply to check on him, just to see he was fine... and to say she wanted to buy something.
Still, there was one question he needed answered. "What are you going to shoot?" he frowned, honestly curious about the twelve-inch requirement.
"A monster," Leo said, his face flat and direct. Azrael’s brow tightened.
The old man’s lips twitched; he was about to rebuke them but then saw the hunter in Leo’s eyes. Something shifted in the man’s expression—recognition, a memory of his own younger hunger.
It was the same look he’d had when he was a young hunter: fear edged with a terrible, steady hunger.
The old man hummed again and asked one more question. "Was that... the one that’s been hunting humans?" After all, he, too, had seen the news—the reports of a disaster that defied explanation.
Azrael leaned in and whispered, "We are survivors of that thing."
The old man’s eyes widened in horrified comprehension.
Then, without wasting another breath, he moved to the side and picked up a gun that might do the job.
He lifted a long, dark rifle and worked it with the practised motions of a man who had handled weapons for decades—careful, precise, efficient. He checked parts, weighed one piece, then another, slotted a clip and inspected the fit. When the weapon was presented, it looked like something built to kill.
They tested and confirmed, then finally settled on the thing they needed. Azrael’s chin rose; the pallor drained from her face, replaced by the quiet hardness of someone who had decided. Leo held the rifle like it was the next step of a plan he had not yet finished.
After the checks, he spoke low and urgent. "I need as many as possible," Leo said, voice tight. "And as many rounds as you can spare."
Azrael flinched—she didn’t have that kind of money.
How could she pay for all of that?
She felt the pressure of his confidence like a physical thing.
Did he really trust her that much?
Her mind flicked through credit card limits, possible loans, even the idea of putting the car up as collateral.
The old man frowned. "Boy, a single gun costs thousands of dollars, and the ammo—depending on quality—can cost more than the gun itself if you want something rare and reliable—" Before he finished, Leo slid a single diamond across the counter.
Silence fell. The old man did not speak. The gesture felt like a clean, final kind of bargaining the way trades between hunters sometimes were.
Azrael’s face went white with shock. "W-Where did you get that?" she asked, voice tight and asking the question she did not want to know the answer to.
Leo looked at her and said quietly, "Don’t ask anything... please."
Azrael huffed, pouting as if drawn by the softness in his eyes despite herself.
The old man’s gaze lingered on the diamond. He leaned closer, running a finger along the edge, then reached for the testing tools kept behind the counter. He had the equipment, the knowledge, the habit—diamond tester, loupe, scales.
Leo added, "I need the ammo to be strong and sturdy. The blast should be powerful enough to shatter rock."
The old man looked at Azrael. She seemed to plead with her eyes, a quiet appeal that tugged on something in him. He should not be doing this. He knew the rules. Still, he sighed,
"All right," he said slowly. "I will prepare it within a month—"
"I need it in four days, and I will pay extra on delivery," Leo interrupted.
The old man glanced at Azrael, who nodded with slightly pleading eyes. He hesitated, then sighed again and nodded. "Fine..."
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[Author’s Note: As I mentioned before, I’m going through some personal issues, so I wasn’t able to do much research for this Chapter. If you find any errors or are unbelievable, please let me know. Also, forgive me for the late update.]