"We'll handle floors one and two!!"
"The special ops unit's got the rest. We're moving up."
"Can't we use the elevator?"
"Might as well advertise that it's here after what we did."
"Actually, killing them all inside and sealing the elevator off would be efficient—stop others from hopping on."
"If they cut the cable from above, things turn dangerous. With that variable in play, better not take it."
"You shriek too much, rookie. Since you're so keen, do your hundred runs up and down every morning."
"Enough drama. I called dibs on the ninth floor—so back off!"
I snagged the ninth floor because it's the sweet spot: I can intercept anyone fleeing from the tenth or counter those coming up from the eighth. Perfect ambush.
"Then I'll take the eighth floor."
"Then I'll take the tenth. As commander, it's my duty."
"Is Don Quixote in this building?"
"According to intel, yes."
Really? Then… were they planning that Christmas thing here?
"Go on ahead. Good work out there."
"And what's this she-devil up to?! Get her!!"
Get her… right… I'll give it my best.
"Grah…!"
"Isn't she damn fast?!"
She's gone. Rest in hell.
"I should head out too. Send whatever backup you can."
"You're asking us to deliberately hold back? I refuse. Contract says we must do everything in our power."
"You never cut me any slack… Fine, I'm going!"
Surprise assault is best, but since we've already announced our presence, we just have to overwhelm them without thinking.
"That Golden Stallion moves fast! I'll mangle every rookie inside!"
"You lot, fall back. I'll handle this."
"Our boss has arrived. He's not interested in you; bring me Don Quixote."
"You don't know how to find him, but you can't just tell me?"
These thugs have more loyalty than sense. If they'd just answer, I'd… still some would fight back. But how convenient would that be?
"Opening!"
"Wait—if you charge now, you die!!"
"Sword stance!"
Every swordsman's basic posture begins with drawing the blade. Over the centuries, they've refined that draw to be both swift and immediately offensive.
—Shing!
"Argh—!"
'Rough cut.'
The moment the sword clears the scabbard, it slices horizontally from right to left. Intentional wrist twist maximizes the gap, perfect for one-strike suppression—but it strains the wrist.
"Damn... was she an Oripathy carrier?"
This is bad. When life functions cease, the body will rupture, releasing an Originium dust cloud. How long it takes varies with infection rate.
"Switching plan! Finish quickly and evac!"
"Uhh... come on..."
"...What the hell..."
A nameless steelworker's underling split in half… and the ceiling above it. Oh, that's the Moejang at work.
"Do not hold back!!!"
You get the message?
"Is this where the commander is?"
"What?! You're here already?!"
"Hmm. You don't seem to be Don Quixote."
"Let's fry them!!"
"Flesh Rend."
One slash and ten heads drop, like hail striking apples. No obstacle stands.
'Better calibrate to avoid collapsing the lower levels.'
"Do not hold back!!!"
Another strike, and I realize I've cleaved down through the floor beneath.
"Die, scum!!!"
"Finish them!!!"
—Clang
The horrific ring of metal, a brief glitter, then the body is severed into three and slumps to the ground. The metallic stench of blood snaps everyone from aggression to terror.
"U-ugh... ah..."
"M-monster..."
"If you surrender now, we will not inflict further violence on those who lay down arms."
"S-surrender... surrender...!"
Alright. Situation contained.
"Where is Don Quixote?"
"T-the boss left ages ago. We were waiting for the call—how should we know?!"
"Find out."
"Such a thug... no, hold on. Oh! There's 'Weiseongnak', Don Quixote's right-hand man!"
"You insolent brat! Why didn't you say that?!"
"Gimme a break. You want to stay alive, right?"
"If we get retribution later, I'll... damn it..."
"Quiet. Where is this Weiseongnak?"
—Thud!!!
"Uh... that's him over there... he's not dead...?"
"Sorry Moejang—I misjudged my power! Hey, can you breathe?"
"Good. Everyone cleared?"
They outnumber me, but they lack conviction. I thought I'd at least see an Arts wielder in action.
"Would have been nice to have an Arts wielder."
"Who in this neighborhood gang uses Arts... maybe a mid-level lieutenant?"
"Shut it. You want to end up like those bodies out there?"
"No, sorry..."
'What kind of bastard has this temper? Not Liberi but actually Wyvern?'
"Oi."
"Huh? I wasn't thinking anything—honestly!!"
"I just wanted to ask where the restroom is."
My hands are soaked in blood, feels grim. If it were outside, I'd brush it off, but inside a building, with Moejang above and Otis below—what could go wrong?
"The toilets are down that hallway. Do your business in peace, okay?"
"Right. Oh, and one more thing. If any of you try to run upstairs or downstairs, tougher people than me will butcher you. Got it? If you want to die, just let me know. My blade could still slash something else... an ankle, maybe..."
"Nope, we'll stay put! Don't worry! Right?"
"Aha! Can't wait to get arrested~"
Then let's wrap this up fast.
"Heh heh~ Shellfish shells tied~ around her neck hung~ I've forgotten the words~ la la la dance~ a ding-a ding~ ring-a ring-a ring echo~"
Water roared in the sink as blood washed away. In those few seconds, humming a tune, every nerve in me focused on the second stall's door.
"Ah, feels good. Now come out. I don't want to wash my hands again. Stay with those guys. They'll be hauled up any second."
"...Damn Viper curse sure feels wicked, huh?"
"Well. Two men fighting in a bathroom is a drag. I'd rather they... "
"O-oi!!!"
"Fuck! I'm in the middle of my line!!!"
A sudden shove from that contemptible wolf—
"Seongnak, elder!!!"
"Seongnak? Elder? Fine, so you're a higher-up among Quixote's lackeys?! Step up then, you bastard."
I'll punch a hole right through your gut today.