These guys were real gangsters. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone, much less when ordered directly by their leader to do so.

On top of that, Ares boasted great martial prowess alongside dabbling in advanced technology. The invisibility suits that had hidden their figures earlier were one such thing.

Though, with my perception—and Ram and Gwen by my side—such things were useless.

Guns?

I thought of them as basically a really long stick.

As long as you weren’t in the stick’s path when the trigger was pulled, you’d be fine. Even placing an obstacle in the way, like the crowbar, worked wonders in blocking them.

Though, of course, bullets don’t travel in a perfectly straight line from the barrel—they swerve randomly. But the better the shooter, the less randomness there is to their shots, and the easier they are to predict.

Call it the inverse law of shooting skill. The better you are, the harder it is to hit me.

"What, not coming?"

Seeing that none of them dared take another step—not even rising to my taunt—I was sure they were pros. Even the gunners in the distance had stopped firing after realizing it was futile. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

But like this, we were at a standstill.

Since they were basically statues right now, should I just march away...? No. After what I did to that haughty Yoru, they’d chase me to the ends of the earth.

Rustle!

Thankfully, before boredom could kick in, the other side moved.

I saw them spread out on either side, surrounding me immediately. Seven of them, evenly spaced, forming a circle standing roughly four meters away. In their hands, I caught the silvery glint of dagger edges.

"Oh? Is it starting?"

I grinned, holding my crowbar aloft.

At the same time, my other hand moved to grab a second weapon.

A knife—though unlike the military utility knives the enemies carried, made for stabbing and slashing and making people bleed, mine was considerably more domestic.

Something used to chop, cut, and mince.

A kitchen knife.

Seeing my weapon of choice, even the burly man ahead had his eyebrows twitch.

No doubt wondering if I was looking down on all of them. A kitchen knife against a military utility knife. On durability alone, the winner was obvious.

Despite the turmoil in his head, the man maintained his professional composure. In the middle of mortal combat, though, ethics be damned.

SWOOSH!

Three of them moved in tandem. If the leader-like man directly ahead was number one, the ones who moved were two, four, and five. Their coordination was solid too—I had almost nothing to comment on.

"But still too slow."

I leaned forward, causing number two to twitch and stomp his foot, bracing to dodge.

"...!"

Of course, I didn’t miss the confusion in his eyes when, instead of pressing forward, I jumped back. While floating horizontally, I kicked hard, spinning my body like a drill and catching the hands of the two coming from behind.

It happened so fast they seemed confused about what had occurred.

I didn’t hold back at all.

THUNK!

As soon as I landed, I turned slightly toward number two, jumped sideways, and swung the crowbar.

A clean hit. His forehead split and bled.

Consciousness gone in one strike.

The other two followed shortly after.

SLAP! THUD!

I swept their legs out from under them, sending both stumbling forward. Before they could even register what was happening, my crowbar cracked against the backs of their heads.

Not sure if it was fatal, but they were definitely incapacitated.

"Looks like your subordinates need more training." I said, standing back up with a grin. "Simple misdirection cues were enough to send them into a panic."

"..."

The bulky man’s expression darkened.

He’d probably expected one or two to fail—but at least one should have reached me. What he got instead was a clean sweep.

Seeing his furrowed brows, I shrugged. "If you actually want to catch me, you should be showering me with bullets while your men distract me with bladed weapons at the same time. Higher risk of friendly fire, sure, but also a higher chance of actually killing me."

Well, it would only bump the odds from 0% to about 5%, but still.

Don’t underestimate the man who singlehandedly ended the game world.

In the latter years, monsters capable of attacks faster than bullets weren’t rare at all. And I’d spent years studying their behavior, practicing dodging their strikes, and killing every last one of them.

These guys with peashooters, firing from a distance, weren’t even a threat.

"You’re strong..."

Right then, the man finally spoke, adjusting his stance.

"But not stronger than I am."

A battle stance—dagger forward, his other arm angled across his face, covering his head, neck, and chest. Only his fierce gaze was revealed. Different from the three before him.

I could even feel a distinct presence radiating from him the moment he settled into it. Like a naked blade—dangerous, deadly.

"Oh? Finally getting serious?" I smiled, still projecting confidence. "Well, a bit late for that."

[Master, here are the coordinates of all the shooters.]

Right.

I hadn’t just been welcoming attacks the whole time.

In parallel with drawing them all out here, I’d asked both Gwen and Ram to tag every man who’d attacked me. All of them, without exception.

Right now, in my vision, everyone connected to this matter was outlined in a light blue border. Obstacles didn’t matter—their silhouettes stayed clear even through walls.

A grin crept up my lips as I crouched.

"You look like trouble, so I’ll wrap up the rest first. Drop your blade and surrender if you want me to stop, okay?"

Leaving those words behind, I vanished from their encirclement.

My first target was roughly 20 meters behind me—a sniper hiding inside a black car.

Moon Waltz only had a maximum range of about five meters, so I had to close the remaining distance on foot.

I didn’t hold back.

BANG BANG BANG!

Gunshots rang out, but a swing of the crowbar kept every bullet from touching my skin. Sparks flew as my steps grew faster. Close enough now that even through the dark tinted window, I could see the fear radiating from him.

His gun was pointed at me, but it didn’t matter. That was nothing but my afterimage.

As soon as I was within range, I used Moon Waltz, slipping into the passenger seat. Without delay, I drove the kitchen knife into his neck.

A gurgling sound, as if he couldn’t understand what had happened, echoed in the dim vehicle. Followed by his last breath.

Of course, I didn’t need to enter the car to kill him. I could’ve done it from outside with the reach of my crowbar. The reason I bothered was...

"This toy... let me borrow it."

To add another card to my hand.

The man had a pretty nice sniper rifle. I wasn’t well-versed with rifles myself, but even I recognized this model. The AXSR.

I quickly checked the remaining rounds.

One in the chamber, three in the magazine. He’d fired a few shots at me earlier, after all. Not that it mattered much.

I slapped the magazine back in and kicked the passenger door open.

Then I jumped forward, rolling across the road as more bullets rained into the car behind me, riddling it with holes.

Screams broke out as the gunfight spilled onto the street. Of course, I didn’t concern myself with protecting anyone. My life weighed more than these riffraff.

Not Savior Syndrome—just plain truth. I’m no hero, anyway.

I alone knew what was coming. And if I wasn’t here, nobody else would even survive until the end.

So while I wanted to save "everyone," that didn’t mean I’d protect "everyone." Self-sacrificing altruism right now would only lead to more deaths in the end.

I swept a quick gaze around, finding the nearest blue outline. About five meters ahead, hiding behind a pillar outside a pizza parlor.

I slung the rifle over my shoulder and jumped forward without wasting a second.

A flash of blue moonlight traced my path as I appeared beside the figure in hiding. My kitchen knife flashed—cutting his throat and the main nerves running through his arm and shoulder.

Watching him die was boorish, so I just dropped to one knee and raised the rifle instead. I peered through the scope, locked onto the blue-outlined figure furthest from me, and pulled the trigger.

PISH!

A sharp recoil, followed by the sound of high-pressured air releasing. A suppressor? I hadn’t even noticed it had one.

"That’s six." I counted, and shouldered the rifle again.

I ducked as bullets rained down around me—sparks flying, concrete punctured, asphalt nicked, lives reaped.

Not mine, of course.

After catching my breath, I locked onto the next closest figure. Using Moon Waltz, I closed the distance fast.

This time, he seemed prepared for my approach.

He already had his dagger raised, arms in a defensive posture, ready for a knife exchange. Fully committed to pinning me down until the others could converge.

A grim resolve.

At least, that’s what his expression said.

I couldn’t help but grin.

"Who said I’d meet your invitation?"

Without missing a beat—without even slowing down—I did a one-handed cartwheel, my other hand already gripping the rifle still slung to my back, and pulled the trigger.

PISH!

The next moment, his head flew back, a neat new hole decorating his forehead.

What an idiot.

Who brings a knife to a gunfight, anyway?

...Huh?

No, I’m an exception.