Chapter 13: Firing an Empty Magazine

"But that filthy beast looks really formidable..." Wakae said hesitantly.

"That’s just how it appears, Shimizu-kun. You’re a true man, strong and unbeatable. You’ll definitely defeat the filthy beast with ease! Yuriko believes in you!" Yuriko Ashida said as she grasped Wakae's arm and placed it over her ample chest, her eyes full of admiration.

Any ordinary man, seeing such a young maiden gazing at him with such fervent adoration, would surely feel his heart stir, his imagination run wild.

Without hesitation, he would charge forward to battle the monster for three hundred rounds.

Even if he perished, he would shout, “A man must never admit defeat; even if he can’t, he must!”

Alas, Wakae was not a man.

She only felt that Yuriko Ashida might be a little unhinged.

Believe in me? I am who I am; why must I be believed in?

It made no sense.

And what’s this about easily defeating the filthy beast? How come I wasn’t aware I was so powerful?

Wakae... had a sense of self-awareness.

“Ashida-chan, you make a fair point!” Wakae nodded. “Wait here for me; I’ll prepare and be right back.”

With that, she turned and strode resolutely toward the outskirts.

Yuriko Ashida watched Wakae’s earnest expression and nodded enthusiastically.

From their previous conversation, she realized this boy was just a pure, innocent virgin.

Such boys were simple and easily manipulated with a little finesse.

This was Ashida Yuriko’s confidence, honed through years of navigating the romantic world since her school days!

Wakae’s figure soon vanished into the ruins and broken walls.

Yuriko Ashida waited quietly.

Three minutes passed.

She looked toward the direction Wakae had disappeared, hoping to catch sight of him, but there was nothing.

Seven minutes passed.

"Why hasn’t he returned yet?" she murmured.

Fifteen minutes passed.

“Could something have gone wrong?” she frowned.

Half an hour later.

“Is he coming back or not?” she said, turning to glance at the filthy beast some forty or fifty meters away.

The monstrous hand was still devouring ordinary people, its size seeming to have grown somewhat.

A greedy gleam appeared in her eyes. “If I could absorb the core crystal inside this filthy beast, my power would increase even more...”

An hour later.

Yuriko Ashida was growing anxious. “I can’t wait any longer, or this filthy beast will only grow stronger.”

---

"But Shimizu Osamu hasn’t returned yet. Am I supposed to go alone?"

"Damn it, what on earth is that guy doing?"

...

Elsewhere.

At the outskirts of the Mist Realm, shrouded in swirling fog, everything was hazy.

Behind a half-meter-high stone, Wakae lay in a pit, comfortably waiting for morning to come.

After leaving the depths of the Mist Realm, she found this place—a feng shui treasure spot.

Using several shards of tile she had picked up from the ruins as tools, she dug this large pit as a hiding place.

“This should be safe. Ha, going up against those monsters? I’m not that stupid,” Wakae said, crossing her legs comfortably inside the pit, gazing up at the sky of the Mist Realm and feeling the gentle breeze on her face.

Everything was so peaceful, so serene, so beautiful.

“Life isn’t about fighting and killing, but about... people’s feelings... ptooey, no, it’s about eating and sleeping.”

Boom!

Wakae’s reflection was interrupted by a tremendous noise.

Following the loud crash came Yuriko Ashida’s frantic shout: “Shimizu-kun, where are you? Please save me!”

Wakae sat up in the pit, hiding behind the stone, focusing her magical energy in her eyes.

She saw Yuriko Ashida fleeing in the distance, chased by the monstrous hand beast.

The creature had switched to moving on all fours, scuttling like a spider at high speed.

It occasionally leaped several meters high, the air parting sharply with a piercing whistle.

The monstrous hand traced a parabolic arc through the air, smashing toward the fleeing Yuriko Ashida.

But Yuriko seemed able to see behind and above her.

She dodged just in time every time the monstrous hand descended from the sky.

“Looks like she’s okay. Come on, Ashida-nee, you can do it! I believe you can beat the monster and save the world!” Wakae silently poured all her encouragement and support into Ashida.

Though silent, this pure encouragement was more powerful than a thousand armies— the strongest support ever known since the birth of the universe.

After cheering her on, Wakae lay back down in the pit to wait for dawn.

Though it was no longer as tranquil as before, as long as she remained calm, she noticed something...

Yuriko Ashida’s cries were growing louder.

“No, they’re getting closer.”

Sensing something was wrong, Wakae rose again.

At that moment, Yuriko Ashida’s cries were right beside her.

A chill ran down Wakae’s spine as she noticed a shadow beneath her.

She looked up quickly and felt her scalp tingle.

The monstrous hand beast was falling from the sky, drawing closer.

Its palm opened wide, revealing a terrifying mouth lined with spiraled rows of sharp teeth.

Wakae could even smell the foul stench emanating from its maw.

Without hesitation, she leapt out of the pit and scrambled forward.

---

Boom!

An explosion sounded behind her; the ground trembled violently.

A fierce gust struck her back like a whip.

She tumbled several times before rising to look back.

Her carefully dug pit had been smashed by the monstrous hand beast, black soil scattering like a bomb blast.

The beast struggled violently, its fearsome mouth caught on a stone beside the pit.

Though the stone's exposed part was only half a meter high, its underground portion was substantial, pinning the beast’s mouth and preventing escape.

Wakae noticed this and hurriedly ran forward, putting distance between herself and the monster.

Still shaken, she was grateful for her quick reflexes, or she would have wasted precious spiritual energy again.

“Shimizu-kun, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Yuriko Ashida ran up to her, holding one of Wakae’s hands, concern etched on her face.

“I’m fine,” Wakae replied.

“Shimizu-kun, the filthy beast is trapped now. Let’s take it down together!” Ashida suggested.

“Okay, let’s do it,” Wakae nodded. “I’ll count to one—”

Bang!

At the instant Wakae reached “one,” she pulled the trigger of the handgun concealed in her jacket.

The bullet tore through her own jacket, carrying terrifying force as it shattered Ashida’s flesh and left a gruesome hole in her abdomen.

Crimson stained her dress, a blood-red flower slowly blossoming.

Swish!

Several black shadows darted toward Wakae’s neck, eyes, and forehead.

She couldn’t dodge in time, but with a thought, silver threads appeared, entwining the shadows one by one.

But the silver threads were limited; the last shadow was only stopped by her hand.

With a pop, her palm was pierced, but she clenched her hand, gripping the shadow despite the pain.

Only then did Wakae realize these shadows were Ashida’s magic—black snakes woven from the hair behind her head.

And there weren’t one, but five.

Three silver threads struggled to bind four of them; the last was caught by her left palm.

“Bitch!” The searing pain in her palm ignited Wakae’s fury.

Seizing the moment of stalemate, she quickly pulled the trigger again.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each shot caused Ashida’s body to tremble violently.

Because Wakae targeted the same spot repeatedly, the bullet holes merged into a fist-sized blood-soaked hole, flesh mangled and the torn dress stuck to the surrounding tissue.

Before long, Wakae emptied the magazine.