Survives explosion

D awoke.
The opening of his eyes was nearly simultaneous with the twist of his body.
There was the sound of shattering windowpanes and a black cylinder rolled
to the center of the room, but only after D had leapt to one side. Most likely,
it’d been propelled there by a grenade launcher mounted on a rifle.
The ceiling, walls, and floor all bulged out at once. The explosive energy
from the special gunpowder packed in the cylinder ripped through what
resistance the room offered in a thousandth of a second, and material from
the hotel flew out of the building.

Several minutes later, the manager, fire extinguisher in hand, raced into a
room that bore no resemblance to its former state.
“What?!” he coughed, although his choice of words was a bit tame for the
horrible spectacle that froze him in his tracks.

The ceiling and walls had been blown away so that beyond their shattered
remains the fair afternoon sky could be seen. Somehow, the figure garbed in
black stood aloof amidst the rubble. The manager surveyed the scene with
utter amazement. There wasn’t a single flame anywhere. Wisps of smoke
rose from the few scraps of the curtains that remained, but the smoke was
quite thin for a weapon that was supposed to produce a thick cloud of it,
and the air was just as clear here as it was outside. It was almost as if
something had swallowed it all.

“Damnation! What in the world happened here?!” the wide-eyed manager
asked the Hunter. But he quickly added, “Oh, you don’t have to say a word.
I can see that someone lobbed a bomb in here. What I want to know is what
happened after that. Like, what happened to all the smoke and flames?”
“It seems retribution was swift.” D glanced down at the wispy purple smoke
coming from his long coat. No one would’ve thought its thin fabric
could’ve protected him from the blast and flying fragments.

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