I shook him off.
"Ah, aah, no!"
My body plummeted downward.
Yet, I felt almost liberated.
"Kim Hajin—!"
Rachel shouted and leaped down after me. But a transparent barrier that had formed at some point blocked her.
Rachel pounded on the barrier with both fists, staring holes into me as I fell.
*
"Ugh."
Thud. My back hit the ground. Like déjà vu, thanks to the ether, I was largely unharmed.
But what came next was different.
I quickly rose to my feet.
Ahead, I saw the self-proclaimed supervisor. He was keeping a moderate distance from me.
He spoke.
"As expected, you've come."
If Rachel was right, he was affiliated with the 'Crescent of the Return to Heaven.' I didn't have detailed memories of that group, but he was surely at least a mid-rank expert.
My heart trembled.
This was bad. I'd been caught for real.
No wonder something had felt off since the exam started.
"...So I just have to fight you now?"
But I was certain I wouldn't lose, even if I couldn't win.
The Ghost Wolf in my chest.
He didn't know about it.
Ambushes are efficient for a reason. The moment he approached carelessly, the wolf would tear out his throat.
"You seem quite confident?"
Heukjeon asked.
Without a word, I fired my cadet pistol.
Bang bang bang bang bang.
The magazine emptied in less than a second. But not a single shot landed. Dozens of daggers flickering behind him moved gently, slicing apart every bullet.
"But unfortunately, I truly intend to kill you."
He talked too much.
But the more he talked, the better for me.
I tossed the cadet pistol aside. His dagger flashed diagonally, and my pistol was split in half.
"You've discarded your weapon. Giving up?"
the man intoned coldly.
"No."
But without a care, I stretched my arm out to the side.
Mana emanating from my forehead took the shape of a pistol, gathering in my grip.
"I'm the type who relies on his gear."
Desert Eagle. First, I set it to assault rifle mode.
I didn't yet have the skill to approach him myself, so I needed to make him come to me.
Heukjeon was still smiling.
I smiled back and threw out a taunt.
"Carelessly splitting things might get you killed."
"..."
Sure enough, his expression hardened completely.
He bit his lip slightly, threw off his robe, and raised his mana.
But more than that, my eyes were drawn to the strange tattoo engraved on his forearm.
A black chalice and a faint moon seeming to float above it.
Just as Rachel knew, I too knew the identity of the group that bore that tattoo.
"Crescent of the Return to Heaven..."
"...Hoo. You seem to have some knowledge, for a mere brat."
The man smiled with an inexplicably proud expression. A sense of belonging—'my organization is that well-known'—it seemed.
I muttered those six syllables and thought.
What role had they played in the original story... from what I knew, they had definitely appeared...
"Ah!"
My mind cleared as if a lightbulb had switched on.
Actually, if I had to sum them up in one word, neither more nor less—
they were one of the many underlings of the Wiseokdan.
That was it.
The Wiseokdan had formed relationships with many organizations and groups until now. Even for the Wiseokdan, it was impossible to handle everything alone across this vast land.
Of course, these were less relationships and more one-sided exploitation or temporary transactions, and more often than not, the other party never even knew they were dealing with the Wiseokdan.
And the 'Crescent of the Return to Heaven' was one of many criminal organizations running rampant in Pandemonium. Their leader was of British origin, I believed; it was easiest to think of them as a systematic criminal organization similar to the mafia.
"If even a punk like you knows of us, I suppose we've grown quite famous?"
Maliciously propagandized by the UN and countries worldwide, Pandemonium was by no means a blazing inferno; it was actually a city with a sizable population.
Yet while the Wiseokdan had little interest in Pandemonium, the Crescent of the Return to Heaven desperately clung to them for their own prosperity.
"We'll do anything, so please become our patron," that sort of thing. With the Wiseokdan as their backer, they could secure a solid advantage over rival organizations.
But as for why the Crescent of the Return to Heaven had come all the way here to kill me—naturally, they must have forged some connection with Lancaster. (For reference, both Lancaster and the leader of the Crescent were British.)
But whether the Crescent was just a minion of the Wiseokdan or not, it was useless information right now.
Because I couldn't exactly step forward and claim I was close with the leader of the Wiseokdan. If I did, the leader would have me killed.
"Now, shall we begin?"
Behind Heukjeon, daggers gathered with a chilling—clink.
I carefully counted them.
One, two, three, four... seventeen in total.
He seemed to be remotely controlling them with mana. If he could handle all seventeen perfectly, he could be called at least a mid-rank expert.
"Come. I'll yield the first attack."
Contrary to his offer, he showed no sign of letting his guard down. Daggers steeped in mana thoroughly enveloped his body, a veritable curtain of blades. No gaps could be found.
"...Fine."
I sent a drug coursing through my veins.
The third drug component remembered by my body.
[Physical Amplification]
In an instant, my blood boiled and my muscles swelled. My entire body reacted violently to the surging adrenaline.
A euphoric feeling as if both physical sturdiness and thought speed were enhanced.
I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply.
"Frustration is part of death, after all. I'll let you feel it thoroughly."
Click.
I shoved the rifle muzzle at the bastard spewing nonsense, opened my eyes wide, and pulled the trigger.
Kugugugung—
Roaring gunfire and rushing bullets.
At most, one second to empty the forty-five-round magazine.
It was a devastating rate of fire, yet he didn't lift a finger. Didn't blink. The seventeen daggers orbiting him like satellites sliced apart every bullet, as if protecting their master.
Clang, clang—
The bisected bullets clattered to the ground.
Where the deafening gunshots had passed, only a chilling silence remained.
"Goodness. I thought you had something. Is that all?"
Soon, Heukjeon smiled leisurely.
Tsk. I clicked my tongue and swept my hair back.
Unfortunately, the matchup was bad. At this rate, even firing hundreds of rounds would yield the same result.
There was a way to fire an irregularly powerful round capable of breaking those daggers, but even then, the problem was the sheer number of daggers—seventeen.
"...Hoo."
Of course, I wouldn't die to him.
Because if I wanted to win, there was one surefire way.
The god-slaying bullet, Mistilteinn.
It was like using a cow-killing knife to catch a chicken, but I had to survive first before I could do anything.
"Very disappointing. Now it's my turn."
He kindly announced his attack. I focused every nerve on the daggers. A fishy smile formed on his lips, and as if it were a signal, the daggers rushed in succession.
Within opened Bullet Time, within slowed perceived time.
As I watched the swarm of daggers rushing at me... I felt something strange.
One dagger flew toward the space between my eyebrows.
I knew that 'result' before the dagger even reached me.
Perhaps it was easy to predict because of its straight-line trajectory.
But the next dagger would twist its trajectory instantly while heading for my heart, striking beneath my jaw.
For some reason, I knew that before the dagger ever touched my heart.
Since I had predicted the trajectory in advance, evasion was easy. I merely had to fire at the rushing knife to alter its path.
The bullet couldn't overpower the knife, but it successfully twisted its direction.
Chang. Chang. Chang.
The continuous explosions were the sounds of bullets and blades clashing.
The knives kept changing direction to target me, and I fired at their expected paths.
Thud, thud.
Fragments of bullets that had intercepted the knives crumbled and fell like dust.
In the midst of that fierce exchange, I realized.
How I could predict and block his attacks.
His attacks—throwing daggers with mana, then grabbing the thrown daggers with mana again to alter their direction.
That clearly belonged to the category of 'long-range.'
And my talent, 'Master Marksman,' proudly ranked at the top of that category. If it was a long-range attack, even if I hadn't fired it, its trajectory was within my hands.
"...Tsk."
However.
Being able to predict didn't mean I could block everything.
Even if I could see it, my body couldn't keep up.
The Bullet Time given to me was a mere 3 minutes.
Going beyond was clearly dangerous, yet the daggers' onslaught continued without tiring. He simply watched me leisurely, showing no intention of approaching.
While shooting down the knives with my rifle, I recalled another weapon stored within my Stigma.
===
[Stake of Weakness] [Advanced—Enchant] [Poison Attribute]
*A stake that weakens the target it pierces.
*Enchanted with the advanced magic effect 'Weakness.'
===
This was an item I had received as support from a syndicate executive back when Tomer was still my enemy, intended to incapacitate Rachel. The advanced magic effect 'Weakness' on it should work on him as well.
"Ugh."
A knife grazed my shoulder as evidence that Bullet Time was gradually running out.
I gritted my teeth at the sharp pain.
Just once.
Just once. All I needed was to plunge the stake into the back of his head, but right now I had no way to...
A thought suddenly flashed through my mind.
The Stigma's mana.
The power of wish (願望) realized according to my will.
It wasn't impossible. Until now, there had been much I couldn't manifest due to a lack of strokes in the Stigma, but with three strokes, it was worth trying.
I focused all my thoughts on the Stigma.
In the heat of battle, all five senses heightened to the extreme were focused entirely on the Stigma.
"...Kkeuk."
Even then, the knives cut my flesh, and scorching pain flooded my extremities.
Even so, I didn't let go of my will.
What I wanted was simply to stand behind him...!
In an instant.
The Stigma engraved on my forehead glowed blue.
Blue light piercing through my collar.
For a moment, a strange illusion washed over me as if the world had turned upside down. Simultaneously, the scenery before my eyes twisted violently, and as if the world had been disassembled and reassembled, the back of his head—unseen until now—was right before my eyes.
I would not miss this golden opportunity that had come unconsciously—no, that I had created myself.
I pulled out the 'Stake of Weakness' stored within the Stigma and plunged it into his shoulder.
"...What?!"
He displayed tremendous reaction speed and retreated, but it was already too late.
I unleashed the wolf in my chest.
"Bite!"
The wolf that leaped out rushed at him.
"Ugh! What the hell!"
The man struggled beneath the wolf.
Grabbing my spinning head from the side effects of Stigma depletion, I switched my assault rifle to shotgun mode.
Kkiiririk—
The conversion took roughly two seconds.
This was why I had stabbed the stake first instead of switching to shotgun, even though I had taken his back.
Because two seconds was quite a long time.
"...Come back."
I called the wolf back.
Before I knew it, the wolf's body was riddled with deep wounds. The Ghost Wolf's only weakness was stamina and endurance. Exhausted, the wolf returned inside me.
"Y-you... you son of a bitch."
The man who had been so relaxed just moments ago glared at me, covered in blood.
He tried to raise his mana, but how could he with the Stake of Weakness lodged in him?
"Now, take just one hit of this."
Now, the tables had turned.
I glared stiffly at the bastard and shoved the muzzle of my shotgun toward him.
“If I shoot you gently, maybe it won’t hurt.”
“······.”
But just as I pulled the trigger all the way—
[12 hours have passed since one cadet completed the tower climb. The exam has ended.]
The exam ended with perfect timing. At the same time, dazzling light soaked everything around me, and I felt the entire world grow distant from me.
I simply laughed, dumbfounded.
So there was someone luckier than me here.
Well, in any case, what was it again—Heukjeon? If he kept operating, I’d probably see him again someday, and I could properly teach him a lesson then.
······I’m totally tattling to the boss.
* * *
After the exam.
Back in the waiting room, I stood alone, looking down at my smartwatch.
“······Oh-ho.”
[Your understanding of Stigma’s magic power has increased.]
[New function, ‘Concept Imprinting,’ has been added.]
[‘Concept Imprinting’—Establishes and imprints Stigma’s magic power as a specific concept. A total of 2 concepts can be imprinted, and imprinted concepts can be manifested while consuming only half the magic power.]
“Interesting.”
A function like this had appeared. It was probably thanks to how neatly(?) I’d used Stigma while fighting Heukjeon just now. As for what to put in, one thing was obvious for now.
The short-range teleportation I’d used during my duel with Heukjeon.
It had consumed a whopping two and a half strokes of Stigma just to move 50 meters, but in this world, it was an ability you couldn’t obtain unless it was through “talent.”
“Hey, Kim Hajin!”
“Hajin!”
Just as I was tapping away at the smartwatch keyboard, shouts calling my name struck my ears.
When I turned my head that way, sure enough, Chae Nayun and Kim Suho were hurrying over to me.
“Hey, hey. What happened to your face? Why did you get so ugly?! Are you okay?!”
With a somewhat worried expression, Chae Nayun touched the wounds on my body here and there. But was she worried, or was she insulting me? It was kind of pissing me off.
“I’m fine, that’s why I’m standing.”
“Yeah? Hey, but more importantly, was that bastard really an examiner? Did you clear it?”
I didn’t answer Chae Nayun and looked at Kim Suho. Maybe he’d heard the explanation from Chae Nayun, because Kim Suho’s expression didn’t look too good either.
Chae Nayun discovered the especially deep cut on my side.
“Gasp. What is this? Why is it so deep? Hey, you can see all the way into your flesh!”
I’m the one in pain, so why is she the one panicking?
I simply watched with calm eyes as Chae Nayun fiddled with my shoulder, arm, side, and thigh.
“Oh right, hey. Hurry and give him a potion.”
“Uh, right. Hajin, here. It’s a supply potion.”
Kim Suho held out a potion to me.
“Huh? Uh······ no. I’m fine.”
I quietly stepped back. I didn’t particularly want to smear on red medicine.
This stuff hurt like hell. Especially if it was supply-grade.
“Ah, where do you think you’re running?”
Then Chae Nayun firmly snatched my hand, confidently popped open the potion cap, and soaked some gauze with it.
“Hey, wait.”
The potion-soaked gauze touched my wound.
A sharp, trembling agony swept through my entire body.
“Urgh. Ah, hey. Be a little gentle, will you?”
“······What a baby.”
I was being serious, but Chae Nayun snickered.
Anyway, after my wounds were treated with the potion, my smartwatch buzzed.
[Your body remembers 1.5% of the ‘wound recovery’ medicinal properties of the ‘Emergency Recovery Potion.’]
Oh, right.
This recovery potion was medicine too.
I hadn’t even thought of that until now.
······This is the point where I need to seriously question my intelligence.
“There. Hey, but where’s the princess?”
“Ah. Right, Rachel is······ Ah. She’s over there.”
In the distance, Rachel was holding onto an instructor and saying something. Her face looked desperate, and tears were even welling in her eyes. From what I could roughly hear, it was something like, Please find Kim Hajin!
Bzzzz—
The smartwatch rang again. The watch was really working hard today······
My face stiffened like newspaper.
This time, it wasn’t a notification but a text.
And at that, one with somewhat serious cont—