Chapter 80
The story continues off the page
Floaties for Everyone
Swim lesson at the water park, and she's demonstrating on you
Pump Bomb.
A weapon commonly used by Cyber City fixers.
With a three-stage suction, compression, and release mechanism, this weapon flickers green, so among fixers it is often called the "emergency exit to the underworld."
You could call it a kind of grenade, but what made it a Cyber City specialty was that it put a strain on prosthetic users' joints and internal systems.
KWA-A-A-A-A-A-ANG!
The pump bombs thrown all at once explode from every direction. When the billowing smoke clears, the hut we had been standing in has lost all its walls and roof, leaving it open on every side.
The house itself is blown away, but the things inside—and we ourselves—are unharmed.
That was thanks to the golden barrier surrounding us.
“Ms. Veloa...!”
Even though I called her softly, Veloa's gaze is fixed only on Aranchino.
“If you're going to go all the way, I won't hesitate anymore either, Aranchino. Stop this here.”
“This time, I... am I an error in the knowledge you possess?”
“Aranchino-!”
“They take my hand and say thank you. They cry in front of me. They say they feel relieved.”
His arm, thinner than a staff, rises. At first glance it looked like the arm of a bishop being praised, but from another angle it also felt like nothing more than a gesture begging for affection.
“It was the first time someone had taken my hand first, Veloa. I'm no longer Aranchino of the Abyss Research Society.”
“…….”
“I'm no longer a criminal who has only ever received comfort in your arms.”
The staff he holds sucks in purple mana like a vacuum cleaner.
“I am Aranchino, bishop of the Yeoeum Society.”
The staff he holds with both hands pierces his heart.
Was his skin too thin? The staff drives into his heart without mercy and pokes out through his back.
“The prophet who wipes away tears, carries away sorrow, and points toward the future.”
“……Yeah.”
A brief aside.
Veloa glares at Aranchino, supporting the open book with one hand.
As if purging the falsehood that had crept into the knowledge called truth.
“You're a mage, and you're telling me you want to fight me.”
Magic is, after all, knowledge.
Veloa of the Infinite Library.
There is no magic in the world she doesn't know.
Then of course there must be a way to counter it.
Perfection can't exist in magic.
If it did, Veloa wouldn't need to keep seeking and chasing knowledge like this.
She'd only need to embrace perfection.
“Don't get arrogant and think you know everything, Veloa.”
The moment Aranchino's fingers flick upward, the house, shattered by the explosion, regains its original shape.
Now it's even more violent and intense.
The walls sprout teeth, and a giant tongue appears on the floor.
The structure becomes a single living creature.
“A necromancer who deals with souls. Corpses are merely handled because they're the most suitable vessels for holding souls.”
Conversely, if you have the ability, anything can be used as a vessel for a soul.
There's no point in dragging this out.
The folding knife I keep for self-defense opens with a pleasant click.
The knife flies without the slightest hesitation and pierces Aranchino right between the brows.
Crunch!
Red blood runs down the knife, and his body is shoved backward.
But he still has his eyes open, and without a trace of pain he pulls out the knife and throws it to the floor.
“What, a zombie?”
Muttering in annoyance, I check on Veloa. She is frowning.
“So you're using your body as the medium, just like this house...”
“If I don't do it like this, I can't win. It's magic I created myself. Since I'm already dead, you can't kill me.”
Golden script links together like chains and wraps around me and Mr. Deokgu.
Then, as the house outside slowly begins closing its mouth, it spits us out.
“How are you going to deal with magic that's not in your fancy library?”
Thud!
“Ms. Veloa!”
The house closes its mouth.
What remains inside are Veloa and Aranchino.
I don't know what kind of battle will unfold inside, but Aranchino, who came from the same Abyss Research Society, doesn't seem like an easy opponent.
But I don't have the luxury of worrying about the two of them.
“Mr. Juseon... we've got problems over here too.”
Once we come outside, the Cyber City fixers who had been waiting like hyenas start raising their gun barrels in a flurry.
Five of them.
It wasn't an enormous number, but that didn't mean they weren't a threat.
“Wow, fuck—! The house is wriggling? Rajesta really has a ton of crazy shit. No wonder those magic-worshipping bastards are swarming all over the Net.”
“Looks like something straight out of movie CG. Should I take a picture?”
To them, this sight probably wasn't much different from visiting a movie set.
A job where, since you've come out sightseeing anyway, you might as well pull the trigger and toss a few pump bombs.
But even to a layman like me, the gear and prosthetics they were wearing looked dangerous.
“Hey, what's your win rate?”
“Win rate? Pig bastard 42%, slacker 91%.”
“Ha! See? I'm at 51% against the pig, 97% against the slacker. I win, right?”
“Bullshit. That's just because you're wearing expensive gear.”
They often enjoy betting and passing coins around. In their eyes, there are probably also the odds of fighting us, movement routes, fist and foot trajectories, and so on.
A kind of combat navigation system.
“How about you, boss?”
The two who had been heckling in front ask the one-eyed man behind them.
The man called the boss, wearing a leather vest and a shotgun slung over his shoulder, answers calmly.
“Pig 85%, slacker 99%.”
“Pfft! That's fucking hilarious!”
“Can't you just call that 100%?”
Listening to the bastards' snickering, I immediately pull out another folding knife and charge.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
“Left! Right! Left again! Ah, so obvious, so obvious!”
The blade cuts through the air with ease.
The guy who claimed a 97% chance against me reads all my movements, cackling like he was playing with kids—
“Your side's wide open, slacker!”
The moment his fist swings toward my exposed side, I immediately lean forward to dodge it while gripping the knife in reverse.
Crunch!
The knife, driven in from under the jaw, goes all the way in until it reaches his brain.
The 97% win-rate guy collapses onto the floor.
He unfortunately loses to the 3% chance.
“…….”
“What the fuck, man?”
“Don't mess around! What are you doing lying down? This isn't fun!”
The frantic cries that we'd lost a comrade give me time to rummage through the bastard's coat.
“Machine gun and knife... not bad.”
I'm not very good with the machine gun, but I can handle it, and the knife is my main weapon.
As I put on the equipment belonging to their comrade, they finally realize something is off and train their muzzles on me.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A barrage of bullets.
And Mr. Deokgu lunging toward me.
I can hear the bullets bouncing off Mr. Deokgu's body. He grits his teeth and shouts.
“How did you do that?!”
“I'm more amazed by you, Mr. Deokgu!?”
In response to my question about how he can stay unharmed after taking bullets, Mr. Deokgu answers with a still-pained expression.
“I used divine power like armor! But how did you win!? I thought you'd lose with a 97% probability!”
“Isn't that just how probability works? Haven't you ever played a gacha game?”
“An off-banner pull?”
Smirking, I quickly figure out how to use the machine gun.
The easiest bastards to deal with are the ones who use navigators.
Those guys always go down the attack route with the highest chance of success.
If you deliberately leave an opening and prepare for it, you can beat them easily.
“You can do that too?”
Mr. Deokgu looks bewildered.
Even when I taught this to Ryuseoram and Yu Yena back then, they both made that same expression.
“For now, hold out. I'll take care of those guys.”
“Then please hurry up and do it!”
Bang-bang-bang-bang—!
A sound like someone tapping a pot with a spoon comes from Mr. Deokgu's body.
Since I'm not very good with guns, I need to shoot from the steadiest position.
So I lie flat on the ground.
Just in time, Mr. Deokgu's legs are thick, so they make good cover, and I can stick the muzzle out through the gap between them.
“What are you doing?!”
“Don't fart.”
At the same time as Mr. Deokgu's panicked shout, I pull the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets fly out, and the two fixers collapse onto the floor.
Sure enough, since it's a machine gun, the recoil is strong, and the noise leaves my ears ringing, but the effect is definitely solid.
“Ugh?!”
“Aaaagh! My leg—!”
“What the hell is that guy?! Why is he shooting so well?! B-boss! What do we do? Should we put up a barrier?”
“How much do you think that thing costs? Don't waste it on bastards like these!”
The one-eyed man flies into a rage, grabs one of his comrades' corpses with one hand, and charges with it as a shield.
The other one tries the same thing, but when he lifts the corpse, a bullet I fired punches through his head and kills him.
Now only the one-eyed man remains.
“You uncivilized low-class bastards—!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I land a few shots, but the bastard doesn't bleed and doesn't stop.
His body is so durable I can't even tell how much of it is prosthetic.
Once he gets within shotgun range, the bastard immediately points his gun at me.
“Looks like I'll get to keep the whole payout for myself!”
The moment he is about to pull the trigger.
Krrrkkk!
The shotgun barrel begins to tilt.
“What, what's this!? Why is this happening!”
It starts twisting around like a pretzel, and before long the shotgun has turned into something no thicker than a thin iron rod.
The flustered one-eyed man's body is slammed into the floor, and both his arms and legs snap in midair.
“Aaaaargh!”
“Did you do this too, Mr. Juseon?”
“No.”
Rubbing his aching back, Mr. Deokgu asks, and I let out a sigh of relief and look up at the sky.
“Why are you so late?”
“I'll let you off for being late to our date.”
Yu Yena, the Seventh-Circle mage.
At last, she had joined us.