Miracle Card Shop: All My Cards Can Be Actualize

Chapter 569 : Battle in Rome-02

Under the cover of night, the sound of gunfire and clashing blades echoed through the outskirts of Rome. The noise moved from the residential areas to the coast and finally to the harbor, where flashes of gunfire and steel lit up the rooftops of the warehouses.

The battle ceased as Christopher dropped from the sky onto the quay outside the harbor warehouse. Behind him lay only the vast sea. This area, isolated and deserted, was one of the battlegrounds used by the Curtained World to settle disputes among mages and other factions.

Panting and clearly fatigued from the relentless chase, Christopher still maintained his stance, his guard never faltering.

At that moment, several groups of paladins appeared. They positioned themselves on the rooftops, in the alleys beside the warehouse, and along the quay, blocking any escape routes. Each paladin wielded blessed blades, swords, spears, or guns, loyal soldiers of the Archbishop's command.

"Give up, Grand Paladin. There's nowhere left to run," one of the men said, the leader of the hunting party.

This particular paladin, though not extraordinary in skill, had connections with the Archbishop and saw himself as the next Grand Paladin.

Christopher remained silent, glancing at his wristwatch. Only ten seconds remained until the appointed three-hour mark.

Suddenly, a faint hum of engines filled the air, quieter than a typical aircraft. Then, 10 meters above Christopher's head, a VTOL craft shimmered into view, its cloaking field deactivating. The door slid open, revealing a muscular man in shades, wielding a massive, rotating light autocannon. The barrel spun faster and faster.

"What... No!" the lead paladin shouted.

Without a word, the man unleashed the full fury of the autocannon. Flames spat from the barrel as a hail of bullets rained down on the paladins below. Your next chapter awaits on m v|l-e'm,p y r

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The deafening reaper roar of the .76 LAC (Light Auto Cannon) filled the air, followed by the grotesque sound of bodies exploding and warehouses crumbling. The once-quiet harbor was now a warzone.

Each .76 LAC round packed explosive power, and it did its job—transforming the area into a battlefield of pockmarked craters and wreckage. The paladins were reduced to unrecognizable, bloody remnants of what had once been human beings.

The scene before Christopher resembled a war-torn hellscape. "God… this is so cool… I need one of these bad boys," he muttered, awestruck by the sheer destruction.

In the distance, police sirens wailed, accompanied by the shouts of more paladins rushing toward the harbor, drawn by the gunfire and explosions.

The VTOL descended, hovering low enough for Christopher to jump aboard. The muscular man extended his hand toward him.

"Come with me if you want to live," he said in a cold, emotionless voice.

Without hesitation, Christopher grabbed his hand and climbed into the VTOL. The door shut tight, the aircraft re-engaged its cloaking field, and they soared into the night sky.

— Meanwhile - Vatican —

Within the opulent bedroom of the archbishop, which was even more extravagant than the pope's own quarters, the archbishop was speaking on the phone, his face dark with anger.

"What do you mean someone helped Christopher escape? You're useless! All of you are useless! Don't you dare come back without that man's corpse!" the archbishop roared, slamming the phone down mid-call.

He walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it, seemingly exhausted from dealing with his incompetent subordinates. But… this outcome was inevitable. Most of his followers were chosen for their connections and political benefits, not their competence.

This was the price he had to pay. Trading their competence for vast political power and influence was a necessary compromise. Without it, he wouldn't have been able to pressure the pope into leaving for London and stage his coup here.

Now, it was up to the Hightower to uphold their end of the deal. London was their territory, and they needed to handle the pope. Besides, with Richard's death, Daniel's connection to the Vatican, and the smooth cooperation between him and the pope's faction, died with him.

That was why Archbishop Marcus Sinclair targeted Richard first. With Richard gone, the Vatican would always view Daniel as nothing more than a heretic. But… the archbishop's eyes drifted to the corner of his room, where a pile of holy armaments lay. This was the latest batch Richard had brought from Astral Corp.

If there was any regret Archbishop Marcus had about killing Richard, it was this—the Vatican would no longer receive top-tier holy armaments at a friendly discount. Still, he believed the holy smiths in the Vatican should be able to replicate their power, given enough time for research.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire erupted from outside, followed by shouts and agonized screams. Footsteps hurriedly passed the front door leading to the pope's quarters, and the sudden turn of events made Marcus uneasy.

A man in a black suit, Marcus' bodyguard, burst into the room. As the door opened, the sounds of gunfire and chaos grew louder.

"Your Eminence, we need to go! There's a lunatic attacking the premises. We're holding them off for now, but they don't seem to die! Please, escape before we lose control of the situation," the bodyguard urged, his voice tense.

"O… Okay!" the archbishop stammered, quickly nodding as he followed the bodyguard to make his escape.

The sound of gunfire grew closer and closer as the bodyguard hurriedly led Archbishop Marcus toward the parking lot.

He quickly got the archbishop into the car, started it, and sped off. But just before they could exit the archbishop's residence, a muscular man in shades and a leather jacket jumped from the third floor to the ground below, ignoring the bullets being fired at him from behind.

Crack!

The ground split as the man landed, and without hesitation, he took off running after the speeding car, a handgun still in his grip. Seeing this, the bodyguard shouted urgently at the archbishop.

"Get down!"

Alarmed, the archbishop immediately obeyed, ducking his head below the window.

Several shots rang out. The first four were stopped by the car's bulletproof glass, but on the fifth shot, the glass shattered.

At that moment, the man's gun clicked empty. He tossed it aside and continued sprinting after the car. The bodyguard, panicking, slammed his foot down on the accelerator, trying to outrun the man. But the man's speed was far beyond anything human.

The bodyguard, a seasoned member of the Curtained World, initially thought the muscular man was a mage or some sort of supernatural being. But no… there was no trace of mana. All he sensed from the man was a cold, calculating, unwavering determination… like a machine with a single purpose: to destroy its target.

The muscular man nearly caught up with the speeding car. He leaped forward and grabbed onto the rear bumper, his iron grip denting it with each handhold.

"Just f*cking drop dead already!" the bodyguard cursed, desperately swerving the car left and right, trying to shake the man off.

It worked… partially. The man fell to the road, but he didn't let go. His hand clenched the bumper tightly, and his body was dragged along the pavement.

Screeeeeeech!

His face grated against the asphalt, but instead of the sound of flesh tearing and blood spilling, there was only the screech of metal scraping against the road.

Undeterred, the man slowly began to climb up from the bumper. To stabilize himself, he punched through the rear of the car, his hand tearing through the metal as he used it to pull his body up.

By now, he was almost at the rear window, showing no signs of pain or hesitation.

"Shit!" the bodyguard cursed as he fired several shots at the man. The bullets struck his head, but instead of killing him, there was the sharp clang of metal.

Both the archbishop and the bodyguard now had a clear view of the man's face. Half of it was gone… no, not gone, but stripped of its synthetic skin, muscle, and blood. What remained wasn't bone, but the human-like skull made out of adamantine, with cold, electronic eyes locked unflinchingly on the archbishop.

"What… the hell… are you?" the bodyguard gasped, horrified by the man's true nature.

The man remained silent and undeterred, still inching closer to the archbishop, his iron grip advancing steadily toward his target. His hand swiped past the archbishop's neck, but the archbishop quickly dodged, and the hand pierced through the couch seat.

Seeing this, the bodyguard immediately swerved the car toward a nearby tree.

Crash!

The impact forced the man off the car, his leg crushed between the vehicle's left side and the tree. The car engine stopped, but the plan worked—they were safe, for the moment.

The bodyguard let out a triumphant smile. But... the muscular man pushed the car away, freeing his mangled leg. Though blood-soaked, the tattered cloth revealed that his leg, too, was made of adamantine, leaking synthetic blood.

"Shit!" The bodyguard tried to move, but the door was jammed and wouldn't open due to the crash.