CHAPTER 266: RANKING MATCHES RESUMES [5]

BANG—!

The shot missed—but only barely.

I felt the wind of it graze my cheek, and before I could even process how close I’d been to losing my head, she adjusted her aim and fired again.

Bang! Bang!

The sound echoed through the arena like thunderclaps, each one followed by a faint shimmer in the air where the magic barrier intercepted the projectiles.

I dove to the side, rolling across the floor. "What the hell is that!?"

"A prototype," Aria said with the kind of casual tone someone might use when describing their favorite teacup. "Mana compression rounds. They hit harder than a crossbow bolt and travel faster than a spell."

She fired again.

I had to duck behind Lan, shifting it into its staff form, using it as a shield while my brain tried to keep up.

This wasn’t like dodging arrows or magic bolts—those had a rhythm, a wind-up, some kind of warning. This? She could pull the trigger the instant I moved, and the shot would be there before I’d even finished the thought of dodging.

The only upside was that the recoil seemed to make her pause for a fraction of a second between shots. A fraction... but that might be enough.

I dashed forward, zig-zagging as another shot whizzed past my shoulder.

She stepped back, calm as ever, her eyes locked on me. "Getting closer won’t help. I can fire at point-blank just fine."

"Then I’ll just have to test that theory!"

I swung Lan at her in a wide arc—only for her to drop low and slide backward, firing from the ground. The shot clipped my sleeve, burning the fabric.

I hissed. "Okay. Yeah. Definitely not a background extra."

Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Took you long enough to realize."

She snapped the gun up again, this time aiming at my legs.

Bang!

I jumped, twisting midair, and landed hard—but in range. Before she could pull the trigger again, I slammed Lan down toward her wrist. She twisted her arm just in time, the gun sliding out of her grip and clattering across the arena floor.

"Got you," I said.

But she didn’t panic. Didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she reached into her coat and pulled out a second gun.

"...You’ve got to be kidding me."

Bang!

The shot forced me to retreat again, all the progress I’d made erased in an instant.

And then she laughed—soft, almost musical. "You really think I’d come with just one?"

At that moment, I realized something.

This wasn’t just a fight.

She was enjoying this.

And somehow... that made her even more dangerous.

Bang!

Another shot rang out, forcing me to dive behind one of the arena’s stone pillars. The impact left a faint scorch mark where my head had been a second ago.

"Enjoying yourself a little too much there, Collins!?" I shouted, peeking around the pillar.

"I told you to call me Aria," she replied in that infuriatingly calm tone, like we were exchanging pleasantries over tea. "And yes. I am."

"Glad one of us is having fun!" I snapped, ducking back as another round shattered a piece of stone next to my face.

"You’re quick," she said. "But you keep moving like you’re expecting me to miss. That’s your mistake."

"That’s... literally the only thing keeping me alive!"

"Wrong." She shifted, her boots crunching faintly against the arena floor. "The only thing keeping you alive... is that I want this to last longer."

A chill ran down my spine.

This wasn’t like being toyed with by Alice earlier—Alice’s cruelty had been playful, almost childish. Aria’s was methodical. She wasn’t just trying to win; she was dissecting me, testing my reactions like I was a puzzle she planned to take apart piece by piece.

I tightened my grip on Lan. "What’s your deal, anyway? Why bring a... whatever that is... to a match like this?"

She tilted her head, expression unreadable. "Because swords are predictable. Spears, bows, magic—predictable. But this? You can’t calculate something you’ve never fought before."

"That’s cheating!"

"No," she corrected smoothly, "that’s innovation."

Bang!

The shot grazed my thigh, heat searing through the protective layer of my uniform. My knees nearly buckled from the sting.

"Son of a—!" I bit back a curse, diving away before she lined up the next shot.

I could hear her boots moving again, deliberate and unhurried. She wasn’t chasing me. She was herding me.

"You know," she said conversationally, "most people panic when they hear the first shot. You didn’t. That’s interesting."

"I’m just too stubborn to die!" I yelled, trying to circle toward the gun she’d dropped earlier.

Her voice drifted closer. "Then let’s see how long stubbornness lasts against inevitability."

Bang! Bang!

Two shots in rapid succession—one forced me back into cover, the second ricocheted off Lan’s staff form so hard it made my arms tingle.

She was getting faster.

If I didn’t do something soon, she’d stop missing entirely.

And then I’d be done.

"I already told you—stop running away! These magic bullets are expensive!"

"Really?"

"Yes," she said, like it was the most reasonable complaint in the world. "Unlike other people, my attacks use consumables. Each shot costs money."

"I see. I understand. So?"

"Please just die in one hit like my previous opponents. That way, I can save money."

"Ah, right. You were always a terrible person deep down, weren’t you? I forgot about that."

Calm down. Think. As long as her weapon stayed a handgun, it wasn’t impossible to win.

If I transformed Lan into a shield and used it to block one shot while I closed the distance, I could force her to surrender.

That was the plan—simple, clean, and dangerous.

I shifted Lan into shield form and crouched, ready to sprint forward—

Click—

A sharp mechanical sound stopped me cold. It wasn’t the crisp metallic snap of her handgun’s chamber. This was heavier, meatier.

The kind of sound you hear right before something bad happens.

"Is that... your talent?" I asked cautiously.

"Ah, yes," she said, smiling like she’d been waiting for me to ask. "I can transform firearms to some extent."

"...Yeah. That’s cool," I admitted, even as my stomach sank.

And then I saw it.

What had been a sleek handgun was now a heavy, ornate shotgun, its twin barrels gleaming under the arena lights, polished metal etched with curling designs that looked more like they belonged on a royal heirloom than a weapon.

The kind of weapon that didn’t just hit you—it erased you from existence.