The mountain breeze drifts down, carrying the scent of pine.

  Johnny stands alone, gazing at the stars.

  “I love the mountain view,” he murmurs. “The stars shine brighter up here. What a beautiful night…”

  A woman approaches from behind, her arms slipping around his waist.

  “Hey… what’re you doing out here, soldier?”

  “Just looking at the sky, Gpiseth. It’s lovely.”

  The starlight glints in Johnny’s eyes, a tranquil smile resting on his lips.

  “You should come inside. Tomorrow marks a new day,” she says softly. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  She leaves him with the stars.

  Jessie walks the empty road alone.

  Moonlight spills down in sickly yellow pools.

  Every breath tastes like a cruel kiss.

  Then she runs.

  Her feet pound against the pavement, breath tearing in ragged gasps as she forces her body forward.

  The city is too quiet—only the rhythm of her footsteps answers her, fast and unrelenting.

  Needles rest in her sleeve.

  Only one left.

  Venomous Mercy.

  It presses against her ribs, humming softly, hungry.

  Her intent burns—focused, lethal.

  Jessie enters a new town.

  People laugh and talk.

  A musician strums a guitar, his voice rough but warm. A plate lies at his feet, branded HELP THE POOR.

  Women linger along the streets, calling to passersby, bras half-open, smiles practiced.

  Jessie moves through it all in silence, absorbing the sights and sounds.

  She stops beside a girl drawing water from a well.

  “Who’s in charge here?” Jessie asks, her voice cold and stripped of warmth.

  The girl turns with an easy smile. “You mean the chief? That’s Olam. Head straight down that path, take a left. You’ll see guards by a large wooden gate. Tell them you’re here to see the chief.”

  Jessie blinks her eyes, surprised by the girl’s calm.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  She steps away—

  —and vanishes into the crowd.

  The girl's eyes flicker, confused.

  “Huh? Where’d she go?”

  “Excuse me,” Jessie says, standing before the guards. “I’m here to see the chief.”

  One guard tightens his grip on a spear. “Who are you?”

  “Just let me see him. It’ll be brief.”

  “Leave or I’ll—”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Shhhhk.

  The guard drops, clutching his throat.

  The others rush her, weapons raised.

  Jessie moves.

  She snatches the fallen spear, her body a blur.

  In a whisper of motion—golden time folding in on itself—she strikes.

  Holes bloom through limbs, through chests.

  The guards collapse one by one.

  Silence returns.

  Jessie kicks the door open.

  Inside, a young boy lounges beside four women, all dressed in nothing but underwear.

  “You’re the leader?” Jessie asks.

  The boy spits forward. “Get out. Who the hell are—”

  Jessie grabs his shirt and lifts him effortlessly. His feet kick uselessly inches above the floor.

  “Guards! Guards!” he screams.

  The women flee.

  “No one’s coming to save you,” Jessie says flatly. “Moron.”

  “O-Okay—tell me what you want! Please—spare me!”

  “Has a man dressed in black been here?” Jessie asks. “Goes by the name Johnny.”

  “No! No! I swear—no one like that!”

  “Maybe you don’t understand,” she says. “You’re just afraid.”

  The boy sobs.

  “Please spare my brother!”

  Jessie freezes.

  She turns.

  A girl stands at the doorway—the same girl from the well.

  Jessie releases the boy, surprise breaking through her cold mask.

  “You… the girl from earlier.”

  “Yes. Please,” the girl pleads. “Spare him. He’s all I have left.”

  Jessie staggers.

  “No—ahh—” She grips her waist, blood seeping through fresh stitches.

  “Your wounds,” the girl says, stepping closer. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Don’t.” Jessie raises a trembling hand. “Stay back.”

  She steadies herself, breath shallow.

  “Tell me,” Jessie says. “A man called Johnny. Famous for slaughtering Red Carpet gang members. Dresses in black. Has he been seen?”

  The girl hesitates, glancing at her brother.

  “I’ve heard of someone like that,” she says slowly. “A man with a bounty on his head.”

  Jessie’s eyes sharpen. “What bounty?”

  “A group came through recently. All dressed in black. Asking about the Red Carpet killer. Offering a huge reward.”

  “Any leads?”

  “There’s a man who comes through town sometimes,” the girl says. “Wears a duster. He’s here tonight—with a woman.”

  “Where?”

  “Outside. Turn left. There’s a house made entirely of leaves.”

  Jessie doesn’t wait.

  She’s already gone.

  She turns left.

  “This is it.”

  Jessie advances.

  Inside, Johnny sits on the bed. Gpiseth perches nearby, talking softly.

  “Gpiseth,” Johnny says calmly.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Run.”

  “Huh?”

  “Run. Now.”

  The air tightens.

  Gpiseth rises as Johnny springs forward, placing himself between her and the figure tearing through the leaf wall behind them.

  Jessie materializes.

  Venomous Mercy hums in her sleeve, coiled and ready.

  Johnny’s gun rises instantly, aimed at her center mass.

  He’s fast—but she’s faster.

  Gpiseth freezes behind him, trembling, as Johnny positions himself between her and the intruder.

  Jessie darts forward.

  Bullets tear through the air, whistling past, snapping at her.

  Venomous Mercy streaks toward Gpiseth’s throat—swift, lethal.

  Johnny fires again.

  The needle vanishes midair, then reappears, redirecting toward him.

  He blocks.

  Sways.

  Steps back—but his eyes widen.

  She moves like a shadow folded into itself.

  A kick drives at his chest—he leans back, skidding across the floor.

  Fist cracks into his jaw—he grits teeth, head snapping upward, footing steady.

  Venomous Mercy whips toward his heart.

  Johnny fires.

  The needle twists, grazed by the bullet.

  A crimson spray arcs across her neck.

  She flickers.

  Reforms behind him.

  The blade bites—deep gashes across his chest.

  Johnny fires blindly, every shot a heartbeat too late.

  A sudden kick slams into his torso.

  Floor splinters beneath him as he crashes through the leaf wall.

  Gun clatters to the floor—out of reach.

  Jessie lands atop him, needle pressed to his chest.

  Breath ragged, eyes white-hot with focus.

  Behind her, Gpiseth sees a rusted pipe. She lunges, swinging.

  The metal arcs through the air, a jagged whisper of death.

  Jessie doesn’t flinch.

  Her focus never wavers.

  The pipe crashes into her spine.

  Pain detonates down her back—sharp, broken breath escaping.

  Blood stains her lips.

  Johnny throws a punch.

  Her head jerks back.

  She stumbles.

  Steadies.

  Feet gripping the floor.

  Eyes blazing.

  He charges again.

  Jessie vanishes—folds into the air, gone.

  Johnny drops to his knees.

  Fist slams the ground.

  Breath ragged.

  “That woman…” he snarls. “Next time—I’ll be ready. No… this time, I’ll hunt her.”

  Gpiseth approaches, pipe still clutched, shaking.

  “She’s gone,” she whispers. “That terrifying witch…”

  Johnny exhales, relief flooding his face. “Baby… thank goodness you’re safe.”

  Her eyes fall.

  “Johnny… what did you do? There’s a bounty on you. Why did you murder that gang?”

  “They were enemies,” Johnny says softly. “Drop the weapon. I’ll explain.”

  Gpiseth tightens her grip.

  “You started a fire. Don’t let it burn me too.”

  Johnny steps closer, voice gentle.

  “You lived. That’s what matters.”

  Her gaze stays cold.

  “Not tonight. But tomorrow… I won’t miss. Leave. It’s best for both of us.”

  Johnny nods.

  “Fine.”

  His black duster sways as he disappears into the dark.

  Somewhere nearby—

  Venomous Mercy still hums.

  This time, the venom is being hunted.

  Next chapter in 10 minutes.

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