Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Samuel fired, this time at Sam.

The bullet was a compressed halo of shot, flying extremely fast and over a very wide area.

Sam rolled to the side, but some bullets still hit his shoulder and exploded. He groaned and crashed into the wall.

Dean rushed over.

Samuel turned his gun around, but Dean was already in front of him, and the Demon Hunter Blade swept across.

Samuel blocked with the barrel of his gun; metal against metal, sparks flew. Dean, now incredibly strong, easily pushed the gun down, but didn't cut Samuel.

He still couldn't bring himself to do it; after all, this was his mother's biological father.

Samuel kicked Dean in the stomach with a force that was unusual for an elderly man.

Dean took two steps back, panting.

“He’s gotten stronger,” Sam said, standing up while clutching his shoulder, blood seeping from between his fingers. “The curse is draining his life force to strengthen his body.”

Samuel reloaded, his movements quick and precise, chambering two bullets and raising the muzzle.

Dean looked into Samuel's eyes.

There was nothing in his eyes except a burning dark red, bloodshot and narrowed. He gritted his teeth and gripped the broken sword tightly.

“Sam,” he said, “can you control him?”

“Get close,” Sam said, “press him on the neck and use your balance to knock him off.”

"Then let's go."

Samuel fired again.

Dean didn't dodge this time; the angelic power within him blocked the oncoming bullets.

A blinding light suddenly exploded in front of them, and the sound of gunfire echoed throughout the cave, making their ears hurt.

Dean's arms went numb from the shock, but he didn't stop, charging forward despite the impact of the bullets.

Samuel fired a second shot.

Dean turned to the side, the bullet grazing his ribs, his clothes charred, and his flesh throbbing with excruciating pain. He was already in front of Samuel, his left hand gripping the gun barrel and lifting it upwards, while his right hand pressed down with the dagger, pinning Samuel against the wall.

"Now!" Dean roared.

Sam rushed over, his right hand glowing with a grayish-white light, and his hand, radiating demonic power, pressed against the curse mark on Samuel's neck.

Samuel's body stiffened, and he let out an inhuman growl.

The cursed seal began to smoke, with dark red and grayish-white hues battling beneath the skin.

The red light in Samuel's eyes flickered, his expression struggled, gradually becoming empty before a flash of pain crossed his face, then returned to emptiness.

“He’s resisting.” Sam gritted his teeth, the light in his hand shining even brighter. “The cursed seal is too deep!”

Dean looked at Samuel's face. In that fleeting expression of pain, he saw something familiar: the furrowed brow, the curve of his lips—all so like his mother's.

“Grandfather,” Dean said in a low voice, “can you hear me? It’s Dean.”

Samuel's pupils contracted. The growl in his throat changed tone, sounding like someone struggling to speak: "Dean...?"

"Yes, it's me. What happened to you?"

"Of course I'm doing this to save your mother," Samuel said through gritted teeth. "You two brats are always out there exorcising demons and slaying monsters, but you've never thought about your mother!"

"Why?"

"Why can John return, but your mother cannot!"

Before he could finish speaking, the red light in his eyes suddenly intensified, and his power surged, blasting Dean and Sam away together.

The two fell to the ground. Samuel stood up straight, and the curse mark on his neck had turned completely dark red, like red-hot iron.

“It’s no use.” Samuel’s voice became flat again as he raised his gun. “Don’t stop me, or you will all die.”

The gun was pointed at Dean's forehead.

But no shots were fired.

Samuel's finger trembled on the trigger. His whole body shook, his facial muscles twitched, and sweat dripped from his forehead. He struggled, but then his eyes gradually hardened with determination.

"Leave here. I'll say it one last time: I'm saving your mother," he managed to squeeze out.

Then he turned around, fired a shot at the empty wall, blasting a large hole in it, his eyes filled with threat.

Then it rushed into the cave and disappeared.

Dean got up to chase after him, but Sam stopped him: "Don't chase him. If you do, the cursed mark will completely control him, and then we'll really have to kill him."

Dean stood there, his chest heaving, staring at the dark hole, his fists clenching and unclenching.

At that moment, a sound came from outside. It wasn't just one person, but many people walking this way, their footsteps disorderly.

"Crowne's men are here." Sam helped Dean up. "Let's get out of here."

They ran out of the hall through another path and crawled back into the passage. The sounds behind them grew closer, including barking dogs—but not ordinary dogs; they were howling hellhounds.

The two ran wildly through the darkness.

The passage was complex with many forks in the road. They ran for an unknown amount of time, choosing directions by feel, until finally, they saw light ahead and another exit appeared.

After rushing out, there was another side of the mountain, and below the steep slope was a pine forest.

The two slid down, branches whipping their faces and bodies, but they continued running after landing, disappearing into the depths of the forest.

There was no sound following behind.

They stopped, panting heavily.

Dean sat down against a tree and examined his ribs. A patch of it was charred, the flesh torn open, but the bone was intact, and the wound was healing rapidly.

Sam's shoulder was still bleeding; the bullet must have contained something that targeted dark forces.

"What exactly does Crowley want?" Sam tore off a piece of his sleeve and shoved it onto his shoulder.

Dean didn't speak, looking at the exorcism dagger in his hand, which was stained with blood. It wasn't Samuel's blood, but blood that had splashed on it during the explosion and had already dried.

“He still recognizes me,” Dean suddenly said.

Sam turned to look at him.

“In that last moment, he recognized me,” Dean repeated. “He did want to save our mother, but I felt he was being deceived.”

“The cursed seal didn’t completely devour him,” Sam said, “but it will soon. We might not be able to do it next time we meet.”

Dean stood up and sheathed his dagger: "Then, before we meet again, kill Crowley and break the curse seal."

The woods fell silent.

At the same time, deep within the mountain.

Samuel stood in a larger hall, in the center of which was a pool of blood containing three pieces of bone, half-melted.

A middle-aged man was standing by the pool.

It was Crowley. He was still wearing a black suit, his hair was neatly combed, and his face was ordinary; you wouldn't notice him in a crowd.

But its eyes are white with vertical pupils, like a snake's.

“You let them go,” Crowley said, his voice gentle, as if he were talking about the weather.

Samuel lowered his head, the curse mark on his neck burning hot. "Yes."

"why?"

“This is not within our terms of service; I just want to save my daughter.”

Crowley smiled.

He walked up to Samuel and said, "You know what, Samuel? I love people like you the most. You have conviction and perseverance, so it's especially beautiful when you break down."

He tightened his grip, his nails sharpening and digging into Samuel's skin: "You're still useful now, but if there's a next time, when the gates of purgatory open, I'll drain the last bit of your willpower and turn you into an obedient toy to give to Lucifer as a gift. Do you think he'll like it?"

Samuel was trembling, but he didn't speak. He was old and only wanted to save his daughter, in his own way.

Even if it's serving the darkness. (End of Chapter)