CHAPTER 213: CHAPTER 213- LAST SHOT

Belle’s instincts screamed, she spun just in time to deflect the thrown knife behind her. The blade ricocheted off her pistol, falling harmlessly to the floor.

"I knew that was a feint," she muttered under her breath, already charging forward.

She scooped up the fallen knife mid-sprint, flipping it in her hand before slashing toward Nia in a seamless motion. Metal clashed—clink!—as Nia blocked with her own blade, sparks scattering between them.

Nia’s lips curled into a smirk. "Not bad... you’re finally fighting like you mean it."

Without missing a beat, Nia conjured another knife in her left hand and lunged. Her movements blurred—two flashing arcs slicing through the air. Belle ducked, twisting aside, her hair brushing the edge of Nia’s strike. She countered immediately, driving forward with a powerful thrust.

But Nia parried again, before Belle drew her pistol with her free hand and fired point-blank.

Bang!

The shot sliced through the air, but Nia blinked at the last instant, vanishing in a pulse of distortion.

"Behind me," Belle whispered, already moving—

—but not fast enough.

Nia materialized behind her, knife already mid-swing. The blade cut across Belle’s shoulder, blood blooming as she staggered forward with a sharp gasp.

"Too slow," Nia hissed near her ear. "You’re losing your edge."

Belle gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay on her feet as her hand tightened on the blood-slick pistol. "Maybe..." she breathed, eyes burning. "But I only need one hit to end you."

Belle steadied her breathing, blood still dripping from the wound on her arm. Focus, she told herself. Her eyes narrowed, locking onto Nia’s movements.

She raised her pistol—bang! bang!—each shot calculated, tracing Nia’s erratic steps. But Nia blinked away, reappearing above her.

In an instant, Nia dove down like a hawk, blade poised to strike. Belle twisted her body, bringing up her pistol just in time to block, the impact ringing in her bones. Nia didn’t let up—she spun to Belle’s side and slashed again. The knife cut deep into Belle’s ribs, drawing a sharp gasp of pain.

Belle fired through the agony—one shot—then two. Nia blinked sideways, reappearing beside her, ready to strike once more.

But this time, Belle was ready.

When Nia’s knife came slicing toward her, Belle caught it—bare-handed. Blood ran down her palm as the blade bit into her skin, but her grip didn’t falter.

Nia froze, eyes widening. "What—?"

Without hesitation, Belle pressed her pistol against Nia’s abdomen. Her voice was low, cold, and steady.

"End of the line."

Bang!

The gun fired point-blank. The blast sent Nia stumbling back, clutching her side as smoke rose from the wound. Her eyes flashed with shock and fury before she blinked again—vanishing in a shimmer of distortion, escaping Belle’s next bullet by mere inches.

Belle exhaled slowly, the barrel of her pistol still smoking, her bleeding hand trembling—but her gaze never left the fading trail of Nia’s blink. "You can run all you want," she muttered, voice rough with defiance. "But I’ll find you."

Nia, clutching her side as blood seeped through her fingers, hissed through clenched teeth, "Just leave me alone! Why do you people keep interfering with my life? I told you—I have nothing to do with you anymore!"

Belle let out a short, bitter laugh. "Are you stupid? You’re sabotaging our energy flow, and you think you’re not involved?" Her tone dripped with venom. "Looks like your brain’s gotten duller since the day you abandoned us."

She tore a strip from her sleeve, revealing pale skin beneath, and wrapped it tightly around her bleeding arm to stop the flow. Her eyes locked on Nia’s trembling form, cold and unwavering.

"Let’s end this," Belle said, her voice calm but deadly. "Next shot, I’m putting a hole in your head."

Nia’s breathing quickened; panic began to creep into her eyes as Belle kept closing the distance, each step deliberate and merciless. Just when Nia’s back nearly brushed against the cold wall, she froze—feeling a faint, familiar presence in the air.

A flicker of joy crossed her face as a small, insect-like creature drifted toward her, its faint hum carrying an aura she instantly recognized. "See?" she whispered, half-laughing, half-sobbing. "My master would never abandon me..."

Belle’s eyes narrowed. The atmosphere shifted, the air around the insect pulsed with unnatural energy. Her instincts screamed danger. Without hesitation, she raised her pistol, the muzzle glowing faintly red as her [Headshot] skill activated.

Bang!

The bullet, wreathed in searing heat, struck the insect midair. It exploded in a burst of ash and fragments, disintegrating before it could reach Nia.

"NO!" Nia screamed, her voice breaking with fury and disbelief. "You killed it! YOU KILLED IT!"

Her body trembled, rage and despair twisting her face as Belle stood firm, smoke rising from her pistol barrel, expression cold and unreadable.

Nia stood trembling, cheeks wet with tears and fury, voice raw. "You monster, how could you, how dare you kill what’s left of me?"

Belle didn’t flinch. She holstered the smoking pistol with slow, deliberate movements and met Nia’s glare without softening. "You’re pathetic, Nia. I’m glad I didn’t hesitate."

Nia’s face went white with a new kind of rage. "You— you’ll pay for that!"

Belle’s tone stayed flat, almost clinical. "Then try. I’ll end this before it drags anyone else down with you."

Nia kept blinking, each teleport a jagged, desperate flicker. Pain pulled at her movements, blood darkened her sleeve and slowed her feet. She lunged, blades aimed for Belle’s throat, eyes wild.

Belle watched the pattern like a metronome. She didn’t flinch. When Nia committed to the feint, Belle flowed with it, she stepped inside the arc, caught the nearest wrist, and used nia’s momentum to flip the blade free. The knife skittered away and spun across the floor.

Nia tried to recover, but the wound at her side burned with every breath. Her blinks grew shorter, her strikes thinner, no longer the precise predator she’d been.

Belle didn’t hesitate. She closed the distance in two sharp steps, fist cocked. Her punch landed in the soft of Nia’s stomach with a dull, decisive thud. Nia doubled over; a wet sound escaped her throat as she spat blood. Belle hooked an arm under her and, with one clean motion, hurled her toward the cracked concrete below.

Nia hit the ground hard, rolling, choking, a dark bloom spreading at her mouth. Belle moved over her like a closing blade. She leveled her pistol—

—aimed with calm, clinical precision at the center of Nia’s forehead.

Belle’s voice was low, cold "End of it."

Nia opened her mouth, a trembling breath catching in her throat, perhaps to plead, to curse, or to explain. Belle didn’t care to know which.

"I’ve heard enough of your words," she said flatly.

The pistol fired. The shot echoed like a punctuation mark in an empty room. Nia’s head jerked back, her body went still, and the faint light in her eyes vanished. Silence swallowed the space between them.

Belle didn’t move for a moment. The smell of gunpowder lingered, sharp and metallic. Her hand lowered slowly, the weight of the weapon suddenly heavier than before. She exhaled, long and quiet, eyes lifting toward the cracked ceiling above.

"How the hell," she murmured, her voice almost a whisper, "am I supposed to explain this to Kevin?"