Could the one following me actually be an Extraordinaire? Ryan couldn't help but wonder.
Simply being unable to shake a tail could still be chalked up to unfamiliarity with the terrain, or to the pursuer's experience. But losing someone and having them catch back up again was another matter entirely. It was almost absurd — even though, admittedly, he hadn't been taking it seriously at first, and after losing the tail hadn't immediately dissolved into the shadows to vanish completely. Still, he'd done the basics: extra turns, doubling back, the standard moves to stop someone from just guessing right. He hadn't skipped any of that.
So when he heard the familiar footsteps reappear behind him a second time, Ryan went on full alert.
Curious to test his suspicion, he began leading the pursuer on a deliberate loop, attempting to shake them a second time using skill alone.
Roughly ten minutes later, listening to the familiar footsteps that had now vanished and reappeared twice — and had still found him again — Ryan was fairly certain of it: this was an Extraordinaire. And a hostile one at that. Not just because of the following, but because he could clearly feel the person trying to herd him toward somewhere without witnesses.
Then let's go.
Ryan stopped circling. He broke into a run — at a normal, human pace — straight toward the docks.
What does he want from me? I haven't exactly been flashing wealth. The clothes I bought are cheap knockoffs. Did he identify me through some special method? Or is he just preying on a stranger passing through?
Either way, this probably means he doesn't know I'm an Extraordinaire yet. Or maybe he's already above Sequence 9?
But whoever he was, he couldn't be too powerful — otherwise he wouldn't have sunk to stalking a random out-of-towner. Ryan kept his nerve and continued probing.
The night was on his side. Dark favored an Assassin.
Aware of the threat and with a comfortable lead, even that Evernight Goddess captain from Mourne wouldn't necessarily catch him now — the man's ability probably had a range of around a hundred meters, and for an Assassin who was already agile and had Featherfall available to burst forward, a hundred meters was not a difficult gap to open.
He listened to the footsteps behind him — unhurried at first, then suddenly accelerating, moving with superhuman speed from his left-rear all the way to his left-front.
He almost laughed. Only just realized I'm going for the river to lose you? Looks like he's not much of a swimmer.
The Tasok River was now in sight, but the pursuer had already moved to block his path. Ryan obligingly stopped at a distance where even an ordinary person could make him out in the hazy moonlight.
The man was tall — but not as broad as Ryan. His worn jacket was studded with scraps of scrap metal, whether by personal taste or as some kind of mark.
"Why are you following me?" Ryan asked, his voice low and flat.
"Just looking to borrow a bit of coin," the man said, eyes slanted with contempt.
Ryan suppressed a laugh and stepped back.
"Do I look like someone who has money?"
"Stop playing dumb. The smell of ink on you is a lot stronger than most. Hand over the cash. Believe me, that body of yours won't save you today." The man advanced impatiently.
Ryan said nothing. He turned and ran to the right.
"Stupid bastard. Going to learn the hard way, are you." Cursing, the man gave chase.
The two of them were only a few dozen meters from the Tasok River. Ryan had deliberately run toward the section of the dock he'd entered the evening before.
He knew this stretch of ground well — in a few quick moves he left the hard-paved cargo area of the dock and ducked into a dead end.
Seeing Ryan run himself into a dead end, the man accelerated, intending to cut off his retreat before he could realize his mistake.
But when he charged to the mouth of the alley, instinct screamed that something was wrong. He had already been slowing down, but now he threw himself into a forward roll using his own momentum.
Bang.
What greeted him wasn't a panicked stranger — it was a gunshot.
Ryan's silhouette appeared at the mouth of the alley. The moment he'd plunged into the dead end, he had activated Shadow Lurk, drawn his revolver, and calmly walked back out — waiting for the man to step into his sights.
But the man's sudden roll had saved him. Ryan wasn't surprised. He himself — and the Evernight Goddess captain — had shown the same kind of instinct.
The moment he stepped out of concealment, Ryan turned sideways, bleeding off part of the recoil while using his Extraordinaire body to push through the rest and accelerate, driving a Bear Charge straight into the man just as he was steadying himself.
The man barely had time to turn. He crossed his arms over his chest in a desperate block — then watched Ryan, already moving fast, suddenly surge forward again.
Power Strike.
The man was no weakling — in raw strength and build he was a match for a brown bear. But in this moment he felt, in full, what it was like to be slammed by an actual bear giving everything it had.
He hadn't been hit squarely enough to be launched off his feet, but the force was far beyond what he'd anticipated. He staggered back several steps, pain erupting simultaneously from his arms and chest.
Then Ryan's silhouette seemed to melt into the darkness and vanish.
Using scent alone, the man could still roughly locate Ryan. But for someone already rattled by the revelation that his target carried a gun and wielded Extraordinary power, being unable to see the man's movements was the final straw. It broke what remained of his composure.
I'm in trouble. That was his only thought.
Not fully recovered from the impact, he relied on his superhuman constitution to wrench his body sideways and lunge toward the flank.
But the gunshot that failed to come as expected — and the sharp surge of danger that followed — made his heart sink.
Bang.It's over.
The gunshot and the thought arrived together.
Shot in the back, the man crashed face-first into the ground and couldn't get up.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Ryan calmly squeezed the trigger. With the dead aim the Assassin potion provided, he sent every remaining round into the man's skull.
In truth, a lower-Sequence Extraordinaire hit in a vital spot was just as close to death as any ordinary person.
But Ryan had never fought an Extraordinaire before, and his nerves were a little tight. Worried the man might have some strange surviving ability — or might not quite be dead — he fired the extra rounds.
"Sure enough," he said to himself, watching the man's breathing cease. "An Assassin is most dangerous when no one sees it coming."
But just as he was about to check whether the gunshots had drawn any attention, something strange rippled through him from the inside.
It was as though an unmistakable foreign presence had suddenly appeared inside him — or had always been there and had only now made itself felt. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it began to dissolve, and a small portion of it merged with his body and mind.
The sensation was brief, but it was real enough to leave a question mark firmly planted in his thoughts.
What does that mean?