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Demon Card Enforcer [A Noir Cardgame LitRPG]
Demon Card Enforcer, Book 2: Chapter Forty-Six: Betrayal Least Foul

Demon Card Enforcer, Book 2: Chapter Forty-Six: Betrayal Least Foul

A golden light flared behind Wolfe, and he assumed that Shel was summoning creatures to the field.

But that wasn’t his problem—the charging mass of animalistic muscle was. Wolfe threw his gun at Charleston and dived to the side as the growling, chuffing man flew through the space Wolfe had been. Wolfe hit the ground and rolled to his feet, only to find that Charleston had skidded so hard in the grass, he had ripped tracks in it and was heading back at him.

Wolfe sidestepped and pushed the first strike away, but the second caught him below the ribs with a cracking sound and he involuntarily folded slightly around the blow. He managed to barely dodge the follow-up and threw himself to the side again, hitting the ground. He had very little power left, between the mantle and the still-present Kennel Master.

And he was down to fourteen health.

He reached out to touch a card, but Charleston flew in, foot raised for a stomp to Wolfe’s head.

He felt a sudden rush of energy as Malviere triggered her power, and with supernatural speed, Wolfe turned and up-kicked Charleston to his gut as he came in, the brief boost making him hit faster than the corrupt cop.

Charleston took two steps back, his turn to involuntarily bend around a wound, but rushed at Wolfe again.

He touched his Fireborn Hellhound—which would get plus three to all stats from the Kennel Master and another one from Malviere and Wolfe’s mantle each. It sent Wolfe to zero power, however.

In a viral-video missed opportunity, the hellhound appeared just as Charleston charged, and he hit it perfectly, flying over the hellhound with a yell and slamming onto the grass past Wolfe, but also rolling the hellhound over Wolfe. The hellhound flailed its legs and yipped.

Wolfe rolled over and tried to scramble to his feet, but Charleston again pivoted rapidly and ran on all fours over the Fireborn Hellhound and lunged at Wolfe before he was fully to his feet.

Wolfe caught the incoming deputy with a vicious elbow over the eyebrow as he came in but was tackled back to the ground, the far larger and heavier cop scrambling on top of him. But Wolfe scrambled himself, at least keeping the officer from getting a stable position. He took two vicious blows, accruing another three damage, dropping him to eleven health.

A Light beam struck Charleston to small effect, and the Fireborn Hellhound slammed into him, taking him off Wolfe to the side.

Wolfe finally managed to scramble to his feet and rushed over to where Charleston was fighting the Fireborn Hellhound on the ground, aiming at Charleston’s head with a soccer kick.

The crack of a rifle sounded at the same time wood blasted from one of the nearby trees, and Wolfe was thrown off enough that he hit Charleston’s shoulder instead.

Meanwhile, with almost single-minded determination, the corrupt cop snapped the leg of the Fireborn Hellhound and then started pounding it with vicious short elbows on the ground, growling as the Hellhound bit him repetitively in return.

Wolfe ran behind a tree, not wanting to risk being shot with a damned sniper rifle just to try to get a few more hits in on the magically jacked Deputy Chief.

His timing was fortuitous as his mantle faded, precipitously dropping his stats—and removing the health it had granted. For a second, Wolfe thought he might die, but it dropped in percentage terms, bringing him to seven health.

He hurt everywhere and was moving slower since he wasn’t receiving the benefits from Malviere anymore.

He swiped his cards, getting a Tier-four Angry Hellhound, the Desperate Cult Child, Cerberus’s Home for Wayward Hellhounds, and Hellfire.

A Veteran EMT appeared and healed the Fireborn Hellhound entirely, keeping Charleston occupied.

Wolfe’s mind whirled with possible strategies, but he decided to toss his Angry Hellhound, Tier-four onto the field.

He glanced at the warehouse again. Multiple officers had come through the wall and were slowly moving across the lawn toward them. Small-arms fire started up, and Shel grunted from a hit and retreated to the cover of a small tree as well.

Wolfe pulled back again as a near miss from the sniper rifle showered him with wood chips. Glad Thompson is out—that fucker was a bit too good with the gun, and his replacement is adequate at best.

Shel looked at him and mouthed, “Plan?”

Wolfe directed his two Hellhounds to keep the pressure up on Charleston, then yelled to Shel. “Keep the cops from getting clear shots on the Hellhounds and keep them healed!”

She nodded, and Sorenia hit a tree next to a cop with a Light beam. The police dived behind trees or into the ornamental bushes, one getting half-stuck.

Charleston managed to climb to his feet, slowly taking damage from the Fireborn Hellhound and beating it half to death, but Shel summoned a Rookie EMT, healing the card again.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

That has to be irritating, Wolfe thought with a grim chuckle.

When the thirty seconds was up, Wolfe took a chance, dismissing his Kennel Master so he’d have the power, then tossing the second Angry Hellhound—the Tier-three one—out.

Charleston was now taking significant damage, but he touched a card in front of him.

Vitality of the Wild

Uncommon Tier-1 Nature/Beast Card

2 Beast or Nature Power

Any single targeted Beast card fully heals

“Sometimes, the animals of the wild have reserves from hard living that pampered humans can barely comprehend.”

Every wound on Charleston disappeared, and he smiled at Wolfe even as he fended off the dogs attacking him.

Yeah, it’s utterly irritating, Wolfe thought. Also, interesting to know he counts as a Beast card. That changes things.

“Shel, refocus—bring out all your Mortal buffers and Mortal cards!” Wolfe yelled.

“It won’t be fast enough,” Charleston growled as he slammed the Fireborn Hellhound to the ground, killing it.

That’s fine.

Wolfe swiped his cards, almost sure of what he would find—and he was right. His Litter card came up, as well as Brimstone, a returned Cereboo, the Lost Hellhound Puppy, and the Demonic Portal.

Wolfe could hear sirens in the semi-distance, rapidly coming closer. They were sheltered from sight by the factory from the street, and by the warehouse from the parking lot, but they’d certainly figure out where everything was and join even more officers, from a different angle, soon. Wolfe needed to end this.

He threw the Litter card out, and three more Tier-four Angry Hellhounds appeared. Between Malviere and their own buffs, each now had an additional five on all stats—and they were nasty. Praying that Charleston’s ridiculous stats didn’t extend to a huge magical defense, Wolfe ordered his whole team at the Deputy Chief.

The police gunfire started to rapidly drop the dogs, but they lasted long enough thanks to their type and stat buffs to hit Charleston repetitively. The physical attacks, even buffed, did little, but his magical defense was lower. Charleston screamed as he was burned and bitten, flailing about himself.

Two of the dogs died to his strikes and gunfire, and three were wounded, but the Deputy Chief was covered in wounds.

By now, seven of the corrupt police officers were on the field, firing repetitively.

Wolfe needed to finish Charleston fast.

The sirens were suddenly far louder, and four police cars came around the factory, driving across the lawn between trees, boxing Wolfe and Shel in between the officers who had followed them and the new ones driving up.

Damn. Time’s up.

Wolfe flew around the tree, running for Charleston in a last, desperate bid to kill the man despite his incoming reinforcements. If Wolfe was going down, he was taking Charleston with him. He hit Brimstone, firing at Charleston as he ran up, hitting him twice.

No one else fired at him for some reason, but Charleston charged from the dogs and slammed into Wolfe, who didn’t have his mantle on.

He felt things crack and hit the ground hard, dropped to a single health. Brimstone spun from his hand, landing two feet from him.

Fuck. I’d have taken him out if this weren’t the fourth fucking fight in thirty minutes that’s been dragging me down.

Charleston loomed over Wolfe, his body pouring blood from multiple small wounds, and most of his skin charred. He was huffing but didn’t seem to be slowing at all.

“Hands in the air, Charleston!” came Rhett’s voice. “It’s over! Come quietly and you may still have a life at some point.”

Charleston glanced up from Wolfe and screamed. “You fucking idiot, Rhett! This man is scum, just like everyone we remove from the street. Noimoire’s crime is down, damnit, because we’re taking out the trash!”

Wolfe glanced over. There were another eight officers, but all had the words Joliet Police Department on their uniforms. They looked incredibly anxious, licking their lips and glancing around nervously, but all had their guns out to back their lieutenant.

Rhett was still talking to the man whose poster had once adorned his office. “It’s illegal and unethical. Additionally, I think that if your actions were counted in the official statistics, crime wouldn’t be down at all. Might as well argue that gangbangers shooting each other reduces crime. But that’s an argument for a judge. I’m placing you under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and about thirty other charges. Stand. Down.” He looked up at the other officers. “That goes for all of you, although you may well face lesser charges as mere accomplices.”

“We were winning,” Charleston said, holding his arms out and facing the Joliet officers. “Winning against the lowlifes who won’t follow the rules. We can still win, and get rich doing it! Join me! Don’t let this vile man get away with everything.”

“William will answer for his crimes, just as you must answer for yours,” Rhett said. “He won’t get away free, I promise you.”

“Join me!” Charleston cried again.

No Joliet officer moved.

Charleston’s face twisted with hate. “Fuck you!” Charleston screamed, slamming his fist down toward Wolfe’s face.

The crack of Rhett’s handgun came the tiniest fraction of a second before Charleston slewed to the side, a split in the skin over his cheekbone appearing, and he punched the earth next to Wolfe. Wolfe grabbed Brimstone and placed it against the underside of Charleston’s jaw, pulling the trigger rapidly.

Blood and brain spewed across him, and the giant slumped on top of him, almost smothering him.

“Wolfe!” Shel yelled.

“I’m fine,” Wolfe replied as he squirmed from under the giant corpse. “That’s all him.”

He dismissed the notification of the experience, cumulatively pushing him to the next level, and finally pushed Charleston’s corpse off himself, slowly standing, his whole body in agony.

“Men of the Noimoire Police Department, we are taking you into custody. Please do not resist,” Rhett called.

The men stood in shock for the most part, although Officer Thompson collapsed to the ground, weeping, as he was placed in handcuffs. Wolfe was too tired, and in too much pain, to take much pleasure in watching the corrupt cops get arrested by the Joliet Police Department.

Rhett walked up. “Sorry, William, but I think you’re stuck with the damage for a moment. Everyone with healing cards here already used them on you, I think.”

He reached down and picked up the cards that had spilled onto the ground when Wolfe had pushed Charleston away. “You’ll get your share, once everything is resolved.”

“What’s left to resolve?” Wolfe asked.

“You’re still under arrest. Can I assume you’ll come quietly?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Wolfe asked.

Rhett gave Wolfe a small smile. “No. Now, care to come with me quietly to the Joliet station?”

Wolfe took stock of his situation, especially his health. “Yeah, I guess I will.”