Bullet Saint Volume 3 — Chapter 5: No Song Without Blood
The first bullet didn't hit her.
Didn't even scratch her.
It sank into her chest like water. Dissolved. Absorbed.
And the Saint smiled.
Not with lips. With her voice.
Jung Min cursed under his breath.
Azari flanked right—eyes locked on the surrounding chambers. More pods were cracking. More Saints were waking.
"Too many," she said. "Way too many."
"I know."
"You got a plan?"
Jung Min reloaded both pistols. "Yeah. Kill until something makes sense."
The wire-mouthed Saint lunged.
She didn't walk. She slid—a blur of static and steel.
Jung Min fired three rounds—two missed, one clipped her shoulder. She didn't react.
She spun, the wires around her body snapping outward like tendrils.
Azari ducked behind a relic pedestal, pulled the shard close. It glowed white-hot in her hands.
The air around her warped—
The relic was resonating.
Jung Min caught a wire around his forearm.
It burned instantly—scripture seared into his skin.
He gritted his teeth and pulled, yanking her forward mid-spin—
Then headbutted her.
The wires recoiled.
She staggered.
Azari dashed in from the side, drove the relic shard into her spine.
The air sang.
The Saint let out a silent shriek and disintegrated mid-motion—burning into ash with one final echo:
"The hymn… will… feed…"
No time to breathe.
Pods burst open.
Two more Saints dropped—one with glass for skin, the other floating midair with no legs, just smoke trailing below.
Jung Min cursed. "They're not even using bodies anymore."
Azari looked at the relic shard—cracked now. Too much energy.
"We can't keep using this. It'll break."
"Then don't miss."
The floating Saint raised his arms.
The glass-skinned one screamed—and the walls shattered.
The entire cathedral shook. Choir glyphs rained down like burning snow.
Jung Min grabbed Azari and dove behind a pillar.
"This whole city's a relic," he hissed. "They're using the city itself as a vessel."
Azari looked up, horror dawning.
"This is their performance."
"Yeah," Jung Min said. "And we just walked into the first act."
They fought their way out.
Two Saints fell—one shattered by Azari's final relic blast, the other riddled with black-prayer bullets Jung Min had kept for emergencies only.
They limped through the ruins of a temple plaza, breaths ragged, clothes soaked in ash and blood.
Behind them, the city sang.
They reached a rooftop just as the sun began to rise—or what passed for sun in Yunhwa.
Azari collapsed to her knees, eyes wide, the broken relic shard pulsing weakly in her palm.
Jung Min stood at the edge, staring at the skyline. Choir symbols hovered in the sky like gods watching through glass.
"They weren't trying to kill us," he said quietly.
Azari looked up. "Then what were they doing?"
He didn't look back.
"They were tuning us."