Little Red Riding Hood?
Rod's expression froze upon hearing the name.
He stared blankly at the 36D, long-legged, black-stockinged femme fatale in front of him.
You're telling me this is Little Red Riding Hood?
He couldn't see any resemblance to the fairytale figure.
“Wait, my head's spinning.”
Rod rubbed his forehead.
The grandmother in the forest, the mature and voluptuous Little Red Riding Hood, and those dangerous werewolves.
Where's the hunter?
If I'm not mistaken, it must be the village chief.
So, this is a fairytale world?
This is a bit too much of a joke, I can't quite accept it.
No, a perfectly good fantasy world suddenly became a fairytale world?
Man-eating werewolves, a sexy Little Red Riding Hood, a cunning hunter.
This is a fairytale world?
An adult fairytale, is it?
Something's wrong, something's very wrong.
Rod gently stroked the revolver at his waist, his expression regaining its composure and indifference.
Now, he's the one holding the reins.
Whether it's a werewolf or a wolf grandmother.
Under the barrel of my shotgun, all are equal.
If one shot can't solve it, then I'll fire another.
Two shots, one to the chest, one to the head.
Even a god would shake their head.
With a calm heart, Rod surveyed the adult version of Little Red Riding Hood.
“Let's go, we don't have much time.”
Glancing at the gloomy forest, Rod muttered quietly.
“There's serious business to take care of tonight.”
The business he was referring to was naturally the hunt for the werewolves in this forest.
Most werewolves are nocturnal creatures, making it extremely difficult to find them during the day.
However, as soon as night falls, all the werewolves lurking near the village will come out.
His task then would be to clean them all up, one by one.
Taking a look at the ammunition in his dimensional space, Rod felt a sense of relief that he had prepared enough beforehand.
Three whole boxes of shotgun shells, costing him a hefty sum of dollars.
There are a lot of werewolves in the forest, but their number is at most a couple dozen.
With his ammo reserves, even if he fired ten shots at each werewolf, he'd still have plenty left.
“Kindhearted big brother, I don’t know how to thank you!”
Little Red Riding Hood expressed her gratitude.
She led Rod towards the outskirts of the village.
Gratitude?
Rod looked at the alluring figure with a deep gaze.
Isn’t this the best gift of gratitude?
There’s no such thing as a free lunch in the world.
Selfless good Samaritans may exist, but I’m definitely not one of them.
The dense foliage along the forest path drove away the last traces of heat.
Rod followed behind Little Red Riding Hood, heading towards her supposed grandmother’s house.
The familiar route confirmed his suspicions.
Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother was the old woman he encountered last night.
“What a coincidence.”
Feeling the watchful eyes around him, Rod glanced sideways, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
Twenty minutes later, a wooden house came into view.
“We’re here, this is where my grandma lives.”
The carefree and cheerful Little Red Riding Hood pointed at the wooden house in front of them.
Her innocent demeanor made Rod a little suspicious.
Could this naive and simple woman be connected to the werewolves?
Rod shook his head.
At this time, at this place, he wouldn't believe for a second that there was no connection.
It was simply a matter of knowledge or ignorance.
Upon reaching the wooden house, Little Red Riding Hood eagerly stepped forward and knocked on the door.
“Grandma, it’s me, Little Red Riding Hood, are you home?”
“It’s Little Red Riding Hood, the door’s open, come in.”
A low voice came from inside the house.
Little Red Riding Hood, without further thought, pushed the door open.
Rod, however, furrowed his brows.
This voice didn’t sound quite like the old woman he met yesterday.
“Something’s not right.”
Rod felt a slight sense of alert in his heart, cautiously following behind Little Red Riding Hood into the wooden house.
The house wasn’t big, with a large bed placed in the corner.
A thick blanket covered the bed, revealing a human-shaped silhouette beneath it.
“Grandma, how’s your illness?”
Little Red Riding Hood placed the fruit she carried on the table and walked towards the bed, concerned.
“It’s much better now that I see you, did you bring a friend with you?”
A muffled voice came from beneath the blanket.
“Yes, he’s a kind big brother, he was worried about me being alone in the forest, so he came with me to see you.”
Upon hearing this, Little Red Riding Hood showed a radiant smile.
“There are still such kind people in the world, bring him over so Grandma can see him.”
It was still the muffled voice, but this time it sounded a little more urgent.
Little Red Riding Hood turned around, her eyes filled with hope, looking at Rod.
“Okay!”
“Grandma has to see you clearly.”
Rod’s lips curled slightly upwards as he walked towards the bed.
“So… so fragrant…”
The muffled voice was intermittent, as if trying to suppress something.
As Rod approached the bed, the suppressed voice finally couldn’t contain itself any longer, turning hoarse and rough.
“So… so fragrant! I can’t hold back any longer!”
Rip!
Sharp claws ripped through the cotton blanket, a werewolf wearing pajamas and covered in fur jumped out from under the blanket.
Saliva dripped from its fangs, its eyes filled with hunger.
But what greeted it was two black muzzles.
“The stench of your blood and wolf musk, I could smell it from a kilometer away.”
Rod’s eyes narrowed, his face expressionless.
Without hesitation, two shots directly hit the werewolf’s chest.
The powerful force sent the werewolf flying back, hitting the wall.
Click!
With a flick of the wrist, two bullets were expertly loaded into the shotgun.
Two more shots, fired without a moment’s pause.
Bang! Bang!
One shot to the chest, one to the head.
The shotgun pellets flew out like a flurry of flowers, completely shattering the fragile wooden house.
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