The man seemed to tremble in rage and fear.
Michael could feel he was the cause of both—or at least a significant part of it.
"You bastard—"
"{SlowCurse}."
The man's movements froze. He couldn't even widen his eyes in surprise.
Michael's cold eyes looked at the beast in front of him.
Though he felt anger towards the man, he didn't know what to do.
To be honest, hunting monsters was an easier task.
Michael stared at the motionless man in front of him as he recovered from his emotions.
"The city is in chaos now. I don't know why you did this, nor do I care to know since I see no justifiable reason for it. Letting you off is impossible," Michael said slowly.
What he didn't say was that it wasn't just him who didn't want to let the man go. His family didn't either.
Michael didn't know why, but ever since his first encounter with demonic supernaturals—and the countless human deaths he had witnessed over the past few hours—his interaction with death had shifted.
