Chapter 17: Rounding Up

“I’ll crush anyone who gets between Meisatsu and me.”

—Ayame Kanezuka

In a certain dark empty space, a song echoed…

“The Gun Hero, Meisatsu. Does whatever a gun can do.”

“Shooting bullets, racking slides. In his Scroll, he confides.”

“Watch out! Here comes the Gun Hero, Meisatsu!”

Meisatsu stood, dazed. “Huh?”

“Remember Meisatsu…” Scroll added in a sagely voice. “With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Hey, where’d you hear that from?!” Meisatsu prodded. “How do you know about—“

“Would you look at that—“

UNLOCKED: MUZZLE ENERGY TRANSFER

“—you’re on a roll!”

He dodged the question! 

Knowing insisting any further would get him nowhere, Meisatsu instead asked, “So, what does this do?”

“It’s in the name, duh!” Scroll answered.

“……”

“When you pulled the trigger, you felt stronger, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“The bullet that would have fired and the energy it generated got converted into pure physical strength. You really didn’t want to give him a bullet to the head, huh?”

“It does add up.” Meisatsu studied his figure, discovering something.

Whenever he entered this space, he was always perfectly intact. 

No torn clothes, or aching muscles. Not even bruised skin.

“Don’t get any funny ideas.” Scroll caught on to Meisatsu’s train of thought. “The longer you stay here, the more pain you’ll feel when you leave.”

“Oh?” Meisatsu decided to mess with scroll. “You’re bluffing.”

“Why would I even…?” Scroll sighed.

“You just want me outta here, don’t ya?”

“…...”

“Well, jokes on you, cuz I’m sure I won’t feel a thing.”

“It was nice knowing you.” Scroll snickered.

As Meisatsu's eyes slowly pried open—

"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

It felt as though tens of thousands of knives had stabbed him at once from every direction. His body spasmed violently as he laid on the forest floor—a passed out Gaspard beside him.

The sudden influx of pain from the battle washing over him was mind numbing.

So this is what Scroll meant. Despite BULLETPROOF, Gaspard's punches had still managed to inflict some heavy damage. Guess it’s still pretty low…

TING! TING! TING!

The sound of hard steel clashing with stale bread upset the quiet of the forest.

“Have some bagels!” Pierre screamed madly, hurdling several razor-edged bagels that seemed to spawn from his pockets at Shizuka.

SHING! SHING! SHING!

Effortlessly, Shizuka diced them up with his blades till they turned into fine powder that dissolved in the wind.

His hair gently rustled in the breeze as he turned towards Meisatsu’s direction. The rumble that shook the ground earlier drew his attention.

That tremor… Better end this quickly…

With Shizuka still spaced out, not having a care in the world for the enemy before him, Pierre asked, “You’re  still my favorite customer, aren’t you Shizuka?”

A powdery mix of white and brown escaped both of Pierre’s pockets, turning into two long baguettes that settled in his hands. He then added, “What changed? Would you like a baguette?!”

“I was… until you joined forces with scum.” 

Shizuka sheathed his blades swiftly with a twirl, then a crouch. “You were good… really good. But now…”

“…You’d like a baguette?” Pierre chimed in, weakly…

Without warning, Shizuka started running toward Pierre, who responded by throwing a baguette that tore through the air.

Shizuka stepped out of the line of attack and continued his advance—the baguette whirring past him and piercing through several trees behind him.

Pierre yelped, twisting back to flee.

As the chase continued, Pierre perspired furiously as he fled, but Shizuka was so collected, it appeared like he jogged—despite his ninja-like movement.

SLICE!

Pierre—with his other baguette—cut down a mighty tree he ran past, listening as the heavy thing collapsed, shaking the forest. Ha! Lost hi—!

To his dismay, behind him he saw an unperturbed Shizuka—the distance closing.

The once stale bread in Pierre’s hand, now regained its soft, glossy sheen. It looked fresh out of the oven.

“The Shizuka I know would do anything for a baguette. Here!” He threw it at him. “You look like you really want one!”

The baguette spun fast, reaching Shizuka’s face

For a brief—very brief—moment, Shizuka’s eyes trailed its path, examining the entire thing. A bit of the smell even wafted past his nose as he avoided it. But—

His face tensed. “Mist… Walk…”

Immediately, his entire figure became like a black mist, fading away.

Pierre in a panic hastened his steps—

THWACK!

He felt a punch across his face, knocking him back.

Trying to regain his balance, another hit to his stomach sent him several feet back. The attack forced Pierre to regurgitate the contents in his stomach.

Wiping off his soiled lips, Pierre saw the mist briefly before reforming back to Shizuka, who once again charged at him—cold eyes transfixed on Pierre.

I still have one more move. Pierre's knees buckled a bit as he watched Shizuka draw closer .

Shizuka leapt high, cocking an arm for the finishing blow.

A sly grin replaced Pierre’s quivering lips…

“Yeast Wall!” he shouted, flinging his right hand in an arc at the floor. A giant wall of a goopy substance erected before him.

Behind the safety of the wall, he saw a man-shaped dent—most likely, Shizuka—stopping just short of his nose.

Pierre cackled. “You should have just taken the baguette!” 

He laughed, triumphantly.

“False… Hope…” Shizuka whispered, now appearing behind Pierre—fear widening his eyes in stunned disbelief—

TWHACK!

Pierre went limp, drooping across Shizuka’s arm.

He had used a skill that only a few Assassins ever unlock. 

It gives the target a false perception of the actual outcome, then shatters the small window of hope, causing them to lose all will to fight.

Shizuka slung Pierre over his shoulder—Umare style—before heading to where he had left Meisatsu. He’s starting to rub off on me…

In the night sky, the sound of flames roared and lightning cracked.

Then, Gaspard’s son spoke. “Ayame, please listen to what I have to say!”

“Grrrrr!” she growled, flames flaring, before calming down.

Ayame realized that she may need more information before exterminating him, to at least report to the Guild—being an Explorer after all.

“Speak,” she replied with crossed arms.

“You really don’t remember me?” he asked, taking off his hat. “It's me, Akira. We used to play together when we were little.”

“Who?”

“I used to be quite small,” he admitted with a chuckle, "Though I was older than Meisatsu by three years.”

“Scared kid?!” Ayame blurted. 

The name struck Akira like an arrow to the heart.

“Yes, I was in awe of your beauty.” He kept his gaze firmly at her feet. “You have the most beautiful pair of legs I had ever laid my eyes on!”

“Huh?”

“After days at gazing upon your perfect legs for so long, I couldn’t get enough,” Akira added, rummaging behind his robes. “It’s not fair that Meisatsu gets them all to himself!”

He then pulled out a pair of pure white lace up sandals that looked like they cost a fortune.

The intricate crisscross pattern of the lace gave it a distinctively posh look.

“Please put them on, Ayame-san!”

During his younger years, he spent most of his time staring at Ayame’s legs, too afraid to look her in the eyes.

Overtime, that obsession turned into jealously. Meisatsu being the only one receiving her attention did not sit well with him.

And before he could gather the courage to confess his feelings, he was whisked away to the Magic Institute…

The Director at the Institute became his new guiding light, only for her to leave as well.

He couldn’t care less about his father’s plans, but he did see an opportunity to prove his strength to Ayame.

Ayame was taken aback by his plea. So much so that she began to…

Laugh…

“Umm... Ayame—!”

Her laughter increased, becoming more violent and hysterical—

“You attacked Meisastu… because you wanted me to put on... Sandals…?!” 

Her face  warped into something beyond sinister, sending chills down Akira’s spine.

The two hovered directly above the clearing, where Ayame’s army of flaming silhouettes continued their battle.

They now combined to form a dome of red swirling flames that trapped the Explorers below.

BOOM!

A circular wall of dark blue flames flared from the ground up, encircling Ayame and Akira.

The flames that coated Ayame’s figure began to burn blue in some places as well. She was going… 

ALL OUT!

Akira saw himself falling to the ground, unable to sustain his flight. 

He landed on his rear with a crash.

“Something’s interfering with my…”

“Magic?” Ayame interjected.

Ayame was preparing one of the most devastating spells in her magical arsenal.

The sky turned dark, and thunder clapped like a roaring crescendo. 

Streaks of lightning danced across the clouds as they began to swirl—brimming with power.

Back at Beetho, two Explorers sat in front of a tavern, sharing a drink when they suddenly heard thunderclaps.

They have witnessed a display like that before, and they knew it wasn’t any regular storm—it was Ayame.

“May their souls rest in peace…” they  whispered in a prayer.

Back in the forest...

“Within this space, I am judge, jury and executioner.” 

She slowly raised her right hand up to the thundering sky. Her eyes crackling with lightning, reddish blue flames radiating from her figure. 

“And I find you… Guilty.”

Her hand came down.

“Heaven’s… Wrath.”

“Wait!—Ayame-saaaaaaaaan!”

BOOM! CRACKLE!!

An enormous bolt of lightning struck down, swallowing up the forest in a bright blueish hue for a moment, before fading away to reveal the aftermath.

In a massive crater, laid a singed Akira—almost completely charred along with the surrounding trees. The sandals in his grasp, reduced to ash.

She gently lowered herself down, letting out a deep sigh of relief. “Haaa… That was refreshing.”

Ayame moved to the edge of the crater, peeking in. “I wonder if he’s still breathing. I kinda went overboard.”

She stuck out her tongue, bonking herself lightly on the head.

The flaming dome cleared away, exposing the confused Explorers inside. Gaspard’s control over them had broken.

“What happened?”

“My head feels funny…”

Seiji sprinted to Ayame, anxious. “Ayame, where's Meisa…”

Before he could finish, she’d bolted off, tracking down Meisatsu.

In another part of the forest…

Recovering a bit of his strength, Meisatsu forced himself up, still groaning from pain.

POP!

Gaspard pulled his head out of the ground, spitting out soil and dried leaves.

He pounced at Meisatsu, shouting, “It isn’t over yet, Monsieur!”

A figure darted out from the shadows.

CRACK!

A foot clad in geta planted itself across Gaspard’s face, driving him through the trunk of a tree he then slumped against…

The sole of the sandal imprinted on Gaspard.

“You’re… Old guy?!” Meisatsu stood up, shaky.

“Sensei?!!” Ayame gasped.

Shizuka strolled into the small gathering, Pierre knocked out over his shoulders. “Oh, it’s you sensei…”

And the old man stood, puzzled, wondering where to start…