Death Cast

00.11 | The Penultimate

Jaerim, with just a piece of metal in his hand, bravely put on a front and confronted the officers with bending his back. Felix watched in disbelief as Jaerim recklessly jumped from one building to another, oblivious to the repercussions if his falls.

The terraces of the buildings in the old central town faced each other and were only separated by a few inches. Taking advantage of the close proximity of the two structures, Jaerim was able to glide over the obstacles.

He used the broad terraces and outdoor patios to get from one location to another, which were either left with broken, rusted railings or with plants that had overrun the walls. If he couldn't see any way out, he'd jump over to the gaping windows, and the next thing you'd know, he'd be going in a different direction.

Felix was aware of Jaerim's peculiar skill, an ability that had been unused for a long time. When compared to the past, Jaerim's movements were a little sluggish. He remembered that Jaerim could even climb a building if necessary.

But he could not care less.

Jaerim is now an Autumn. One thoughtless move could be all it takes to bring him to his death.

"Jaerim!" Felix propped himself up. "Why are you not running away?"

He tried calling out, but the person seemed to be deaf to his words. He attempted getting up, but his legs gave out as soon as he tried. He had been so preoccupied with the situation that his brain failed to register that he had been shot.

It wasn't until he was free to move he realized he'd been injured.

He struggled, yanking his leg as he crawled across the hard, uneven ground, leaving a bloody path in his wake. Jaerim's image is fading, getting farther from his sight, which is in contrast to the cops who are stalking him from afar.

The cops watched in fear as Jaerim evaded them like a monkey in the jungle, nimbly scaling the buildings as if gravity and physics were non-existent. Jaerim is also quite fast. If he keeps up his speed, it will only take a few minutes for the individual to reach their destination.

The gravity of the situation dawned on them. The Autumn is only a college student without any relative crime records, so they expected an easy catch. Who would have thought that they would reach this kind of situation?

Autumns are dangerous and have a contagious death curse. They will be pulled in if they are not careful.

The battle-tested officers refused to back down. Instead, they shifted their focus away from underestimating their opponent and concentrated on their next moves. They were able to determine Jaerim's movements and shoot him after carefully viewing his figure flash in between the walls.

Another storm of gunshots has broken out. This time, the officers reacted more aggressively, firing multiple shots at Jaerim. Their gazes are unwavering, as they are well aware that confrontations with Autumns are always a race against time.

They either kill the Autumn or follow him to the grave.

However, Jaerim seems to have been injected with chicken blood. His movements become increasingly deft, dodging bullets by a hair's breadth. Also, the piece of scrap metal in his hand did an excellent job of protecting him from the bullets that were flying at him.

Such a trick would be impossible for most people to pull off. It is also impossible to avoid being hit by the bullets fired by the snipers. Jaerim's lightning-quick reactions must have been the result of years of practice.

"Am I dreaming? Did he just dodge a bullet from a sniper?" Myles asked the question everyone wanted to know.

He'd been watching the entire episode with wide eyes, trying to make sense of what was going on. Myles double-checked himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming. He did indeed see a person escaping gunfire while traversing a dangerous obstacle.

All of the chasing they'd done had clearly taken its toll on Jaerim. His clothing is stained with blood, and he has bruises all over his body. One of his jeans had been slashed through, revealing his bare knees, which were smeared with black blood. His legs had to be injured because they could see him limping; he'd presumably gotten a sprain from bouncing around too much. Despite this, he still had the energy to sprint like that.

"Is he still human?" Myles unintentionally spoke his thoughts.

Trivett bestowed him a sidelong glance before returning his attention to the fleeing figure. He was prompted of a phrase he had learned many years before: if you corner a dog on a dead-end street, it will turn and bite you.

Individuals with a strong drive to survive will fight back once confronted. Anyone, even a small animal that was provoked, would respond with a bite. What's more, for someone who has lost their fear of death?

Jaerim is the best example. He never accepted his death. But since he's going to die anyway, why not bring everyone to his grave?

"And I thought he was different. He is like anyone else."

In no time at all, Jaerim arrived at their destination. His arrival was expected, as they were only a short distance apart. He ducked behind a wall, gunshots following his every step. The space between the two sides is barely larger than a room.

Trivett walked towards the snipers positioned beside him. He held the walkie-talkie under his jaw and commanded, "Keep a close watch."

Silently, everyone replied "Yes."

The gunfire came to a halt. They waited patiently for the suitable moment, keeping a tight eye on the area where Jaerim had taken refuge. The sun had barely risen beyond the horizon, bathing the planet in its radiance and shining a ray of light through the thick blanket of gray clouds.

It's only a flash of hope and miracle, as if anything is possible.

The side of the building was illuminated by a line of light. Suddenly, a searing light flashed from the door, blinding all the snipers in an instant. It is subsequently followed by the screeching clatter of metals scrapping against each other.

The situation has devolved into chaos. Suddenly, the utterance of turmoil has thrown the concentration off kilter. All of the senses are alert at this point in time, and this is the most sensitive state of consciousness. Unbalance can be caused by even the slightest noise.

That flash and sound are enough to halt their operation.

What transpired after that is uncertain. Their confusion was still evident as gunshots and the screams of those in distress rang out in their ears. As soon as they had generated enough sanity, they found themselves in a bizarre predicament.

Jaerim, who seemed to have gained superpowers, was standing before him. He had a gun in one hand, pointed at Myles' temples, who was currently kneeling on one knee, his neck restrained by Jaerim's other hand. Nobody could tell what happened, but from Myles' distorted expression, Jaerim had injured his leg.

It has never happened before. They had encountered many Autumns, especially the ones that dared to go against the laws set by the government, but they never met someone like Jaerim. At the least, they only tried threatening the public and not actually attacking personnel.

Jaerim, whose origins are still unknown, had not only managed to bypass the scanners but also confronted the cops alone. He had thrown all the knowledge of these veterans upside down.

Trivett drew his rifle and raised it to Jaerim's head. His subordinate had been restrained, but his face remained indifferent. His hands were not shaking; they were firm, as if he would fire the gun at any moment. He locked his gaze on Jaerim's dark, murky eyes, which glowed with utter defiance.

"Put your gun down," Trivett said. "Put it down or I will shoot."

"No, you put it down," Jaerim said, thrusting the gun against Myles's head.

Myles shuddered, sweat trickling down his brow. When he felt the muzzle's chilly kiss on his flesh, he nearly died. His pale appearance had been so well portrayed that the other cops were beginning to feel anxious. They kept their eyes on Trivett and awaited his next order.

"Put the gun down," Trivett repeated his words.

"No."

The two were stuck in a deadlock. In the end, it was Trivett who relented. He motioned for everyone to drop their weapons. Jaerim kept his guard up as he drew Myles closer to him. He only loosened his grip when Trivett was no longer holding a gun.

"Now, put it down," Trivett reminded him.

Jaerim did not do it since he was well aware he would be shot once he was no longer equipped. He remained firm in his stance, his meaning clear. Trivett had anticipated it. He moved forward, prompting Jaerim to raise his guard.

"What are you doing? You step back."

But Trivett chose not to listen. He continued walking forward, one step at a time, while looking firmly into Jaerim's eyes.

"You will only get hurt if you do this," he said slowly. "Put the gun down."

Jaerim made a sarcastic remark. He'd seen enough movies to know what would happen next. Rather than lowering his firearm to demonstrate he had accepted the arrangement, he just brought the gun down and pulled the trigger. Two thundering gunshots reverberated across the old central town's tightly compacted buildings.

"I am not afraid. I also never cared about getting killed," Jaerim said after firing the gun. "More or less, I will still die at the end."

Everyone stood and watched as Myles' legs began to bleed. Two holes, one on each of his calves and thighs, were not discernible due to the color of his pants, but the darkening of their color produced by something moist made them conspicuous. Myles didn't scream, but the tension on his face revealed he was in pain.

Jaerim returned the gun to Myles' temples and wedged it haphazardly.

"That person has no relation to me. Release him."

They questioned who that person was until they realized there was another civilian mixed in the crowd. They looked at the bloodied mess of Felix, who was watching them in another building. Felix could not hear what they were saying, but he could tell Jaerim was negotiating something.

Trivett didn't look away as he kept his gaze fixed on Jaerim. "Anyone helping an Autumn will be subject to punishment," he stated.

"He's not helping me. I have no idea who he was." Jaerim stepped in with a hasty remark.

"But it did not seem to be that way."

"I have no idea who he was," Jaerim asserted.

Silence ensued once again. Trivett raised his hand to press the walkie-talkie under his chin. His voice reverberated clearly through the device, directing the individuals on the other end of the line with firm conviction.

"A civilian got caught in the gunfire. The person is injured. Bring him to the hospital for treatment."

Jaerim awaited the arrival of the rescuers. Felix could be heard beckoning him from afar, presumably realizing that Jaerim had given up his life to save him. After the short commotion, the silence returned, leaving the two sides in a confrontation again.

However, he did not put up any resistance this time around. His body slackened, allowing Myles to escape his grasp. The gun in his hand had also fallen to the side, emitting a crisp sound of metal falling.

Myles dashed to the opposite side before nearly collapsing due to his injured leg. His colleagues were assessing his wounds to ensure they were treated right away. Trivett walked over to Jaerim, picked up the rifle that had fallen to the ground and pointed it directly at the young man's forehead.

Metal brushed on Jaerim's scalp, making him feel numb to the touch. He maintained constant eye contact with Trivett, showing no signs of resolution. He still couldn't come to terms with the fact that he was going to die. He still has the desire to live.

But what can he do? The moment his time had been decided, he could not do anything at all.

He is forced to accept it.

"Wait a minute," someone suddenly called.

Everyone turned to face the source of the voice, which was coming from... the sky?

Their attention was drawn to a familiar man with white long hair and golden haloed eyes who was gracefully strolling toward them. When illuminated by the morning sun, the dark brown skin appeared golden, evoking a subtly divine impression of being an angel.

But he is clearly not an angel, ah. The large scythe in his hand proved it.

Barron landed with ease. Trivett had long since dropped the gun and stepped to the sidelines. He was well-versed in the ways of the grim reaper, and his presence guaranteed their safety. Barron spotted the middle-aged man standing there and flashed him a wink.

"What a mess," Barron muttered as he looked at the blood-streaked floor. He evaded it and approached Jaerim. With a warm smile, he introduced himself. "My name is Barron Grey. I'm a grim reaper."

Jaerim gave Barron an acquiesced look. "You... are not human."

"Of course, I am not. And will never be."

Barron abruptly raised his scythe and aimed it at Jaerim's neck. He needed just to wield the blade sideways to decapitate the person's head. Jaerim took a deep breath and swallowed. He didn't see Barron moving at all.

The golden-haloed eyes marveled boldly at Jaerim. It appeared to be divine, as though it dealt with miracles and fairies, but Jaerim perceived a piercing chill from it. Although Barron put up a good show, his friendly demeanor was nothing more than a ruse.

"I could see your resolve to survive. How about you make a deal with me?"