Ch.152Episode 8 – Say Hello To My Little Friend

# Many Overlook It, But Pistols Have Stronger Recoil Than Expected

They have shorter barrels and lighter weight.

But for a skilled marksman, that doesn’t matter.

*Bang!*

With the gunshot, the slide pulled back. The ejected shell casing bounced and rolled across the floor, while a new bullet, pushed up by the spring, engaged with the extractor and was forced into the chamber.

I aimed at the terrorist furthest from the group and pulled the trigger.

*Bang! Bang!*

The terrorist who took bullets to the face collapsed in place. It wasn’t a dramatic movement like in action movies. He simply crumpled like someone whose strength had left them.

I fired my pistol at the clustered terrorists. Some died instantly from the shots, while the survivors scattered in all directions like insects.

Hidden behind a concrete pillar, I drew the revolver from the holster inside my jacket.

After catching my breath for a moment…

I took a short breath, peeked out, and surveyed the surroundings.

“……”

Purple and yellow with red in between.

Camilla, who had somehow escaped to a distance,

Was waving her hand at me, looking in my direction.

Success.

## Episode 8 – Say Hello To My Little Friend

A quagmire of blood and alcohol filling my nostrils. The acrid smell of burning with the subtle scent of gunpowder. Between the screams of the patient lying next to me, gunshots echoing from far away.

Camilla leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

All the smells that had assaulted her nose were gone, and the gunshots and screams that had surrounded her ears were now fading away.

“Whew… I nearly died there…”

Having just escaped death, Camilla leaned carelessly against the department store corridor, breathing heavily.

“Is everyone alright?”

“No…”

Francesca, her complexion unusually dark, answered while bracing herself against the wall, forgetting even the sword she was holding. The alchemist furrowed her delicate brow, her sharp emotions reflected in her eyes.

“Those gunshots were terribly loud… Are you two okay? My ears are ringing.”

“I’m fine! I’ve heard gunshots before.”

“I’m also unaffected. Administrator, the hearing loss is temporary, so don’t worry.”

“Seems like I’m the only one with a problem…”

“It’ll get better soon. Even if you’re disoriented for a moment, there won’t be any issues with your hearing.”

Camilla patted Francesca’s back cheerfully while smiling brightly.

Francesca shook her head gently as if feeling queasy, and Lucia checked on Francesca’s condition.

Francesca said:

“Alright… The first plan succeeded, but where should we go to find the control room as the officer said…?”

“We should be able to find that quickly. First, we…”

Camilla fumbled in her pocket and pulled something out.

It was paper.

“Need to move on to the next step.”

She smiled slyly.

“Let’s go to the basement. Quickly, before it’s too late!”

*

Bullets are flying from all directions.

A head that unluckily poked out too far was shattered and rolled to the side.

A ripping sound tears through the air. The muzzle spits fierce flames as it jerks, and the bullet flies through to pierce a chest.

When the explosion subsides, there’s a brief silence followed by a ‘click’ sound. Then another gunshot and more bullets fly.

As all these scenes seem to unfold in slow motion, the doctor approaches the fallen terrorist and places a hand on his chest.

“Are you alright?”

“D-Doctor…”

The terrorist who was shot in the chest firmly grasped the doctor’s hand. The doctor looked down at the chest that rapidly expanded and contracted, stuffing cloth into the wound.

“Argh!”

“Bear with it. Bleeding is dangerous. Even if we worry about infection later, stopping the bleeding comes first.”

The doctor quickly treated the gunshot victim, displaying skills from his past. Though it had been well over 20 years, the knack for treating gunshot wounds remained.

After stemming the wound, the doctor examined the terrorist’s palm and checked his pulse.

His heartbeat was elevated and his palm was clammy.

Shock.

“Calm down and listen carefully. When you realize you’ve been shot, several abnormal reactions occur in your body. Usually your mouth becomes dry, your palms sweat, and your heart rate increases. Is your mouth dry?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Don’t worry. The bullet missed your lungs and arteries, so you’re not in danger. You’re lucky.”

The trembling terrorist smiled faintly at those words.

“D-Damn it…! I’ve been shot and you’re making jokes?!”

“Just keep pressure on the wound. Someone come and move this man! Right now!”

While he was shouting, a bullet struck the wall with a thud! Upon hearing that chilling sound, the doctor instinctively shielded the injured terrorist with his body.

*Bang!*

Shattered concrete fell to the floor as sharp fragments, and dust rose from the impact site, scattering randomly.

The doctor, who was shielding the terrorist, heard a couple of familiar voices simultaneously.

“Hey, how many shots did that bastard fire?!”

“Two, four, five… Six…! Six shots…!”

“T-T-That pistol. Isn’t that a revolver!?”

“Y-Yeah… That’s right…!”

“How many shots? How many does it hold? Huh? Isn’t it six shots?”

“Yeah, that’s right…! He’s… fired them all…!”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s push forward! Let’s go now!”

It was the sound of two terrorists conferring while hiding behind a marble planter filled with dirt. The terrorists each cocked their revolvers, exchanged glances, and then stood up.

The doctor shouted at them:

“What are you doing, you fools! Take cover immediately!”

But it was too late. Before his voice could reach them, bullets flew first.

Bang, bang, bang, bang. With four gunshots, the terrorists who had rushed out were each hit twice and collapsed.

Behind the pillar, the man now held another pistol instead of a revolver.

The doctor looked at the man holding two pistols beyond the debris.

That’s when it happened.

“You son of a bitch!”

One terrorist suddenly jumped up and started firing.

A thunderous gunshot echoed through the building. The thick hunting slug demonstrated its power by shattering the pillar’s exterior into pieces. It was incomparably stronger than small pistol rounds.

However, the slug only destroyed the exterior without penetrating the pillar to hit the target. Even with a rifle round, it would be impossible to penetrate a pillar full of rebar and concrete.

But it was enough as a threat.

Amid glass fragments, concrete pieces, sharp wood splinters, and torn aluminum flying in all directions, the man couldn’t move from behind the pillar.

So the terrorist kept pulling the bar and firing the shotgun indiscriminately.

“Die!”

“Good job, Maxim! Keep shooting!”

“I got it, so shut up and start shooting too! I’m running low on ammo!”

The terrorist called Maxim spoke to the other terrorists who were conversing with him. It was Marco.

“Mago, Vanya! You two go get him! We’ll cover you!”

“Got it, Marco. We’ll flank him and attack, so please help. Can you do that?”

“Understood!”

Two skilled hunters proposed a plan to attack from the side. It was an excellent insight.

But as with all plans, everyone has a good plan.

Until they get hit.

*BANG!*

A gunshot quite different from the shotgun or old revolver, yet not unfamiliar, silenced the area that had been filled with Maxim’s shotgun noise.

The bullet didn’t have some magical silencing function that quieted the area.

It simply hit the terrorist who had been firing.

“Argh!”

The terrorist who had been firing the shotgun contorted his face. The hand that had been holding the trigger was now pathetically feeling around his knee, and his body was losing balance and collapsing to the floor.

“W-What happened, Maxim!?”

“M-My leg…! I got hit in the leg…!”

“…What?”

“M-My toe-“

Bang! Before he could finish speaking, the terrorist’s head was blown off.

Marco could see the blood flowing from the hole in Maxim’s shoe, the brain matter on the floor, and the gap about the size of an adult male’s ankle at the bottom of the structure Maxim had been using as cover.

“Maxim? Maxim! Hey!”

“…Fuck.”

The terrorists, who had been watching Maxim as if he might get up again at any moment, only stood up and belatedly fired their guns after the man behind the pillar had fled.

*

Most of the weapons seized from the terrorists were awkward to use.

Whether from lack of maintenance, the firearms were in terrible condition, and they were all products from at least several decades to a century ago, making them inferior in every function compared to weapons used by regular armies.

People often say that getting shot kills a person, but that’s only true if the gun is somewhat maintained.

Old firearms don’t hit targets accurately even with proper aiming, and old bullets can’t penetrate cover that modern bullets easily pierce. Especially revolvers. I wouldn’t use a .38 Special caliber revolver or lower even if given one.

Yes, ammunition is also a problem.

Ammunition with rust here and there. Like the terrorists who don’t maintain their guns, the bullet condition was very poor. I was worried they might explode in the chamber when the trigger was pulled, let alone fire properly.

But necessity is the mother of invention.

Even these garbage guns hit well when fired at close range.

“…!”

I grabbed the muzzle of a terrorist moving close to the corner, lifted it up, pressed the revolver against his chest, and pulled the trigger.

*Bang!*

A metallic sound came from the throat of the terrorist with a hole in his chest. That’s the sound people usually make when stabbed in the lungs, so this one must have had his lungs penetrated.

I slipped my arm between the dying terrorist’s armpits and rushed out from behind the corner. The terrorists running toward the corner were startled to see me and aimed their guns, but they couldn’t bring themselves to pull the trigger with their comrade’s back in the line of fire.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. I killed three of them with point shooting, not even aiming. There’s no time for precision shooting.

After roughly pushing the corpse away, I ran to a pre-made cover and hid, just as the pursuing terrorists began firing indiscriminately.

“Over there! I saw him hide there!”

“Shoot! Shoot! Fire everything!”

Muzzles spewed fire in unison.

The terrorists seemed intent on tearing me to shreds, firing their guns with vengeance for their fallen comrades.

I frowned at the hearing loss that had been bothering me since earlier, calmly discarded the worn-out revolver, and took out the pistol I received from the Military Intelligence Agency. No ammunition.

Except for the Special Investigation Bureau under the Ministry of Justice, the pistols issued by the Military Intelligence Agency, Royal Intelligence Department, and Cabinet Security Office to their employees are all identical.

A pistol slightly resembling the PPK.

Similar appearance, same capacity of 8 rounds including the chamber, and even the same grip that’s so short it requires a special grip method with the pinky finger separate. Of course, the ammunition is different.

I press the magazine release to remove the magazine. Remove the old magazine and insert a new one.

The Military Intelligence Agency pistol doesn’t have a slide release like the PPK, so I manually pulled back the locked slide and released it.

*Click!*

Holding the pistol, I crouched down and quickly checked the floor through a hole. About 20 meters away, I could see the feet of terrorists standing in place, firing their guns.

I lay on the floor and shot at the terrorists’ feet like before.

The terrorist whose shoe was shredded naturally lost balance and fell, and I shot the head of the fallen terrorist who couldn’t move. After killing about two of them this way, all the terrorists scattered and hid behind what looked like sturdy cover.

Of course, they only “looked” sturdy but weren’t actually so, allowing me to easily kill several terrorists who hid behind wooden tables or aluminum railings.

*Bang! Bang!* *Bang! Bang!*

I abandoned cover and kept moving while shooting at the terrorists. As expected, the terrorists were too afraid of bullets to raise their heads, allowing me to safely reach the cover I had prepared.

After killing about five or six from my position, the remaining terrorists, seemingly enraged, fired at me whenever they got the chance.

“Ah, these bastards…”

They’re even doing suppressive fire now.

The terrorists were carrying a variety of weapons from single-action revolvers and shotguns to lever-actions and bolt-actions, making their firepower tremendous. Moreover, they outnumbered me, putting me at an overwhelming disadvantage.

I leaned against the solid cover and let out a slight sigh.

This was only possible because the cover made of stacked weights from the fitness center was easily stopping the old bullets.

“……”

I reached into my jacket pocket to count the magazines.

Searching my pockets, I found only two magazines left.

Two.

That was all.

*

“Ah, this isn’t the place.”

Camilla, who had peeked inside, told Lucia and Francesca.

“Are you sure? Perhaps you’re mistaken because it’s dark…”

“Yes. There are just boxes inside. It’s a storage room, an old storage room.”

“She says so, Holy Maiden…?”

Francesca turned to Lucia. Lucia smiled bitterly.

“That’s unfortunate. What should we do with these two?”

Lucia pointed at two terrorists lying on the floor. Though they looked like corpses with their limp appearance, the bubbling foam indicated they were unconscious, not dead.

Subdued terrorists.

“I don’t know…? But I wonder why terrorists are wandering around here…”

“Perhaps something important is nearby? Let’s leave them tied up without killing them. Do we have anything to tie them with?”

“No, I don’t have anything… Maybe we could use shoelaces? They look quite long…”

“Those can be easily untied.”

“Wait a moment. I’ll look inside for something to tie them with.”

Lucia came out with a bundle of string and tape. While Camilla tied up the terrorists to prevent their escape, Lucia and Francesca explored the basement of the department store.

“I can’t figure out where the room the Major mentioned is.”

“I think even the officer didn’t know the basement would be this extensive…”

Find a room deep in the basement where vibrations and noise are coming from. Though the department store basement was quiet without even an ant crawling around, they couldn’t sense any vibrations or noise no matter how hard they looked.

“Wait a moment.”

Camilla, who had finished tying up the terrorists, stood up and stretched.

“I think I know roughly what place he’s talking about, and I think I know where it is.”

“What?”

“Follow me!”

As Camilla shouted and ran off, Lucia and Francesca followed with puzzled expressions. Like the Pied Piper, Camilla led the two through the department store basement. Specifically, she circled the outskirts rather than the center of the basement.

After wandering around for a while, Camilla exclaimed,

“…Ah, here it is! Come over here!”

She had found her destination.

*

Bullets are flying from all directions.

A head that unluckily poked out slightly was shattered and rolled to the side.

A sound like tearing through the air is heard. The muzzle spews fierce flames as it jerks, and the bullet flies through to pierce a chest.

When the explosion subsides, there’s a brief silence followed by a ‘click’ sound, and soon another gunshot with more bullets flying.

As all these scenes seem to unfold in slow motion, the doctor approached the fallen terrorist and placed a hand on his chest.

“Are you alright?”

“D-Doctor…”

The terrorist who was shot in the chest firmly grasped the doctor’s hand. The doctor looked down at the chest that rapidly expanded and contracted, stuffing cloth into the wound.

“Argh!”

“Bear with it. Bleeding is dangerous. Even if we worry about infection later, stopping the bleeding comes first.”

The doctor quickly treated the gunshot victim, displaying skills from his past. Though it had been well over 20 years, the knack for treating gunshot wounds remained.

After stemming the wound, the doctor examined the terrorist’s palm and checked his pulse.

His heartbeat was elevated and his palm was clammy.

Shock.

“Calm down and listen carefully. When you realize you’ve been shot, several abnormal reactions occur in your body. Usually your mouth becomes dry, your palms sweat, and your heart rate increases. Is your mouth dry?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Don’t worry. The bullet missed your lungs and arteries, so you’re not in danger. You’re lucky.”

The trembling terrorist smiled faintly at those words.

“D-Damn it…! I’ve been shot and you’re making jokes?!”

“Just keep pressure on the wound. Someone come and move this man! Right now!”

While he was shouting, a bullet struck the wall with a thud! Upon hearing that chilling sound, the doctor instinctively shielded the injured terrorist with his body.

*Bang!*

Shattered concrete fell to the floor as sharp fragments, and dust rose from the impact site, scattering randomly.

The doctor, who was shielding the terrorist, heard a couple of familiar voices simultaneously.

“Hey, how many shots did that bastard fire?!”

“Two, four, five… Six…! Six shots…!”

“T-T-That pistol. Isn’t that a revolver!?”

“Y-Yeah… That’s right…!”

“How many shots? How many does it hold? Huh? Isn’t it six shots?”

“Yeah, that’s right…! He’s… fired them all…!”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s push forward! Let’s go now!”

It was the sound of two terrorists conferring while hiding behind a marble planter filled with dirt. The terrorists each cocked their revolvers, exchanged glances, and then stood up.

The doctor shouted at them:

“What are you doing, you fools! Take cover immediately!”

But it was too late. Before his voice could reach them, bullets flew first.

Bang, bang, bang, bang. With four gunshots, the terrorists who had rushed out were each hit twice and collapsed.

Behind the pillar, the man now held another pistol instead of a revolver.

The doctor looked at the man holding two pistols beyond the debris.

That’s when it happened.

“You son of a bitch!”

One terrorist suddenly jumped up and started firing.

A thunderous gunshot echoed through the building. The thick hunting slug demonstrated its power by shattering the pillar’s exterior into pieces. It was incomparably stronger than small pistol rounds.

However, the slug only destroyed the exterior without penetrating the pillar to hit the target. Even with a rifle round, it would be impossible to penetrate a pillar full of rebar and concrete.

But it was enough as a threat.

Amid glass fragments, concrete pieces, sharp wood splinters, and torn aluminum flying in all directions, the man couldn’t move from behind the pillar.

So the terrorist kept pulling the bar and firing the shotgun indiscriminately.

“Die!”

“Good job, Maxim! Keep shooting!”

“I got it, so shut up and start shooting too! I’m running low on ammo!”

The terrorist called Maxim spoke to the other terrorists who were conversing with him. It was Marco.

“Mago, Vanya! You two go get him! We’ll cover you!”

“Got it, Marco. We’ll flank him and attack, so please help. Can you do that?”

“Understood!”

Two skilled hunters proposed a plan to attack from the side. It was an excellent insight.

But as with all plans, everyone has a good plan.

Until they get hit.

*BANG!*

A gunshot quite different from the shotgun or old revolver, yet not unfamiliar, silenced the area that had been filled with Maxim’s shotgun noise.

The bullet didn’t have some magical silencing function that quieted the area.

It simply hit the terrorist who had been firing.

“Argh!”

The terrorist who had been firing the shotgun contorted his face. The hand that had been holding the trigger was now pathetically feeling around his knee, and his body was losing balance and collapsing to the floor.

“W-What happened, Maxim!?”

“M-My leg…! I got hit in the leg…!”

“…What?”

“M-My toe-“

Bang! Before he could finish speaking, the terrorist’s head was blown off.

Marco could see the blood flowing from the hole in Maxim’s shoe, the brain matter on the floor, and the gap about the size of an adult male’s ankle at the bottom of the structure Maxim had been using as cover.

“Maxim? Maxim! Hey!”

“…Fuck.”

The terrorists, who had been watching Maxim as if he might get up again at any moment, only stood up and belatedly fired their guns after the man behind the pillar had fled.

*

The magazines were down to just two. Despite picking up guns dropped by terrorists and even using knives, trying to conserve as much as possible, bringing too few magazines was the problem.

Bringing a pistol for VIP protection was a good choice. However, I hadn’t anticipated becoming isolated like this.

Who in the world would expect to be isolated for hours in the middle of a busy downtown area in the capital? I thought that if I ever needed to fire my gun, patrol cars would arrive before I ran out of bullets, but there’s no police in sight. I can’t even contact the company from here.

“…Phew.”

Things have gone seriously wrong.

I’m almost out of bullets and my body is in tatters. Fortunately, the terrorists are no longer shooting or aggressively pushing forward, but they still outnumber me by far.

This is completely messed up.

I rested my head against the cover and sighed briefly. Though my mind was filled with thoughts of being screwed, I felt more regret now that things had come to this. Maybe I should have brought a rifle instead of a pistol for VIP protection? Or perhaps I should have requested plainclothes police support? Such regrets sporadically came to mind.

“…Hey.”

From the entrance direction, where the terrorists had entered and set up their positions, someone spoke. Someone broke the silence and addressed me in Abas language.

I had no reason to speak, so the speaker could only be a terrorist. I opened my ears and remained alert, holding my pistol at the ready.

I was trying to eavesdrop in case the terrorists were planning to push forward.

But the terrorist spoke in Abas language, not Kiyen.

“Are you still there?”

It was a familiar voice.

“I know you’re there, detective. I know you’re listening.”

“……”

“Let’s talk. You and me. Just the two of us.”

The self-proclaimed doctor, who had said he graduated from Sejonov Imperial Medical University, started talking to me. His attitude was clearly different from other terrorists or ordinary terrorists, which was somewhat surprising.

What kind of trick is this?

“……”

I didn’t answer. I was confident that no matter how long I remained silent, he would continue to talk. And I needed time right now.

I briefly looked up to check the time, waiting for the terrorist’s next words.

“I know you’re listening. Let’s resolve this through dialogue.”

“…What are you saying, Doctor? That bastard is now-“

“Shh! Marco, don’t speak. You’ll be in danger too.”

“But-“

“……”

I focused on the conversation I was hearing.

Unlike diplomats, intelligence officers must be able to speak the language of their host country before being dispatched overseas. Beyond simply listening, reading, writing, and speaking, they need to be able to write business emails or speak local dialects or second languages. That’s necessary to function effectively when stationed abroad.

In that context, Kiyen was one of the languages I could speak. The Kiyen Empire was my assigned region.

Concentrating and opening my ears, I could faintly hear the terrorists whispering.

“Many of our people have died, Doctor. He’s the cause, and no matter how firm your resolve is, it’s impossible to spare him! Others won’t accept it!”

“That’s why we shouldn’t fight here, Marco. We can’t lose any more people.”

“We’ve already lost too many. Muhammad, Yevgeni, Maxim, Franz…”

“Marco! We’re not barbarians. Remember, Marco. We don’t die together for those who have died; those who can live should live!”

“That’s impossible right now, Doctor!”

“Lower your voice, Irina! It’s dangerous!”

“……”

The outline is becoming clear from what I’ve heard.

The man called “Doctor” who spoke with me is definitely the leader. For whatever reason, he keeps talking about saving me and negotiating. Particularly, the fact that he introduces topics and leads the conversation proactively, and that other terrorists use honorifics with him, indicates he’s the leader or has equivalent authority.

The terrorists named “Marco” and “Irina” are opposing the “Doctor’s” decision.

“Marco” is using the negative attitudes of group members as a basis to persuade the “Doctor,” which is a bit ambiguous, but “Irina” is clear. She keeps insisting that I should be killed.

“Take him in front of the people and see! They’ll tear him apart immediately!”

“What are you saying? No matter what crimes someone has committed, we can’t kill people so ruthlessly. That was our policy before we came here, before the police.”

“That was about not killing innocent people! How is he an innocent civilian? What kind of civilian carries a pistol like those used by the military or police into a department store and shoots people dead?!”

“It looks like self-defense to me. He’s a police officer. You know about self-defense, right, Irina?”

“Be quiet, Marco. Doctor, that bastard shot Morian and ran away. Even if you spare him, he’s someone who might try to kill us at any moment!”

Smart.

She seems to have a good eye for people.

“Alright, just sit down, Irina! And lower your voice!”

“U-Umph-“

“Doctor, I’ll calm Irina down, so please continue your conversation. I’ll look after the injured.”

“…Thank you, Marco.”

“It’s nothing. Be careful.”

The conversation ended.

While organizing the terrorists’ conversation in my mind, I prepared to get up and run at any moment. They probably won’t attack me right now, but you never know with people.

I checked my watch and firmly gripped the lighter in my pocket.

I want a cigarette.

“…Are you listening there?”

“Yes. I’m here. You wanted to talk?”

“That’s right.”

“Good.”

After hearing my straightforward response, the terrorist thanked me.

“Do your comrades not understand Abas?”

“That’s right. You and me. Just the two of us talking.”

I conversed with the terrorist across a sturdy barrier and a wide space. I couldn’t see him, but I could vaguely sense the distance between us.

“What do you want?”

“Drop your weapons and surrender. Then I’ll spare your life.”

“White flag surrender. Tsk, do you really think I’d do that?”

“No.”

The terrorist answered firmly.

“If you were that kind of person, you would have surrendered already. We might not have had to fight at all. I know you’re not someone who surrenders easily.”

“Then why say such things?”

“Just in case. On the off chance, however slim, that you might put down your gun and surrender.”

The terrorist answered without a hint of trembling or hesitation.

Well, what a romantically pure person.

I can’t tell if he’s pure or naive. From the way he talks, he seems like an idealist, but considering his experience in no-man’s land, he doesn’t seem entirely idealistic either. Having always dealt with dark-hearted snakes, I found it hard to adapt to someone like him.

To probe him and kill time, I spoke:

“Even if I surrender, I don’t think your comrades would spare me. Am I wrong?”

“They might not.”

“But you would argue to save me, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Why are you like this? We just met today. From my perspective, it’s awkward to say this, but isn’t it too late for surrender?”

The terrorist replied:

“Is there such a thing as too late or too early in human affairs? We are human.”

“……”

“What makes humans human is not nature but reason. That’s the only line that distinguishes barbarians from civilized people.”

“That’s quite a philosophical statement. Didn’t you say you were a doctor?”

“Is there a law that doctors can’t know philosophy?”

“Ah, damn… If science majors dabble in philosophy, what are humanities majors supposed to do for a living?”

That’s when it happened.

I started to see movement from across the way. Clothes and hair slightly poking out, shadows moving between structures, the sound of glass being stepped on, the sound of guns being adjusted.

The terrorists were moving.

To get to me.

“……”

I looked at my watch once and fervently prayed that Camilla had found her way well.

Amidst the busy noises breaking the silence, the terrorist’s voice was heard:

“Think carefully. I can’t give you much time to think!”

“……”

“You have many days to live, do you really need to shed blood here? Let’s not waste young lives!”

Even as the terrorist shouted at me, the other terrorists were gradually tightening their encirclement. They were very clumsy, being untrained, but their numbers remained threatening.

Confirming that the terrorists were close at hand, I took a deep breath.

And,

At the moment when help was desperately needed,

*Thunk!*

“Huh, what?”

“What’s going on? Why did the lights go out?”

“Hey, I can’t see anything. I’m scared.”

“Is it magic…?”

“Don’t make noise, you idiots!”

The lights throughout the department store went out.

With the confused terrorists in disarray behind me, I cocked the hammer and closed my eyes briefly. Immersed in darkness, all surrounding noises seemed to fade away.

“…Wow.”

Although I had seen her boast, I didn’t think she would actually do it.

“You really did it, Camilla.”

*

A dark room. The once brightly lit room was plunged into darkness, and the room that had been filled with machine noise became quiet.

The wide-open electrical panel revealed its complex interior while burning, and thick cables were neatly cut. The reddish cross-sections, like firewood, occasionally glowed red, eating away at the remaining wires.

Standing in front of the electrical panel that had turned into a bonfire, Camilla put her hands in her pockets and admired the scene.