The air was humid, and I couldn't see any light in my blurred vision. The foul fishy smell filled my nose, making me feel sick. At the same time, I could hear the sound of water flowing not far away.
The killer gasped in pain. Although he had been trained, he was still a mortal at heart. The pain from the continuous blows almost tore his will apart.
He fell heavily to the ground, his vision became slightly clearer, and he saw sticky darkness all around, with only a little light from a nearby corner.
The killer tried to move himself, but the fall had broken his bones, not to mention the gunshot wounds, and the blood loss had taken away all his strength.
"Wake up, you still have a chance to survive."
A hand reached out from the darkness and helped him up, and Irene squatted down with a sharp dagger in her hand.
"Where's Ivar?"
Irene asked directly without any further ado.
The killer looked at her, his mouth wide open, and you could see blood inside his mouth. In order to prevent him from committing suicide, Irene pulled out his teeth.
The smell of blood hit him in the face, and the killer smiled foolishly, but then the smile twitched due to severe pain.
The dagger pierced his arm. The wound was not deep, but in order to cause more severe pain, Irene twisted her wrist gently.
The woman had no expression on her face, as if she was accustomed to such cruel things.
Blood gushed out from the killer's wounds, and his skin turned pale, as if all the blood in his body was about to run out.
"Irene, you can't escape. You know very well what happens to people like us."
The killer's voice was blurry, but still barely discernible.
He looked at Irene as if she were a dead person, a body that could still move.
"Gaspard won't let you go."
The killer closed his mouth, still keeping that weird smile on his face, his eyeballs bulging, staring at Irene like some evil creature.
Irene felt a little cold for a moment and couldn't help shivering. Then she was angry. She repeatedly used the dagger to bring pain to the killer, but he no longer made any sound, not even a whine of pain.
He was like a broken doll, staring at Irene with his bloodshot eyes.
This torture did not last long. Irene knew very well that she would gain nothing by doing this and was just venting her anger.
She stood up and was silent for a long time. She picked up a cigarette and a faint fire rose in the darkness. The burning fire briefly illuminated her face. She looked a little tired and her eyes were dull.
"Forget it, I don't want to be like you."
Irene wiped the dagger and put it away. She was not a pervert and killing others in this way did not bring her happiness.
She dragged the killer's body towards the light, took a last look at his bloody face, broke his neck, and kicked the body into the ditch.
The water carried the killer's body into the depths of darkness, while Irene took off her clothes and walked out of the dark sewer.
Under the cleaner's clothes was the formal dress she had already put on. She took off the cotton wool stuck to the clothes, changed her clothes, and strolled on the streets of Rendonna as if nothing had happened.