Chapter 15: Lashing Out

Hiding in the corner of the wall, I infused mystic energy into two bombs.

"Over here! I heard voices this way!!"

The instant I saw their shadows, I hurled one bomb—packed with as much power as I could—while tossing the other into the hallway.

"Wh-what…!? Enemy attack!!! We’re under attack!!"
"…"

…Three, four, five… six of them.

Three went down hard in the blast. They won’t be fighting again.
They hadn’t expected me to still have the strength to strike back.

…But that leaves three. More than I’d like.

Ideally, I would’ve taken out the one carrying the “bomb that destroys halos” with that first strike.

Anna had warned me over comms: the pursuers are carrying bombs that can shatter halos. Worse, they don’t even see them as weapons meant to kill people.

That means they’ll use them without hesitation. If they realize I’m a threat, they’ll throw one instantly.

I have to stop them—but I can’t tell who has it.

To the eye, it looks like any ordinary bomb.

So every attack, every shot, has to be treated as if it could be fatal.

"…Who are you? One of the moderates?"

"Who knows. Honestly, I’m not the calm-and-gentle type, y’know?"

I answered with a shallow grin, hiding my real thoughts.

"Then step aside. We don’t have time to waste on you."

"Don’t be like that. …Besides, the path’s already blocked by my bomb. You’re not going anywhere. And speaking of bombs—one of you is carrying something special, aren’t you?"

At that, all of them stiffened.

Makes sense. When your enemy knows more than they should, you get wary.

Good. Exactly what I wanted.

Use everything. Stall for time.

"By the way… do you even know its proper name?"

"…"

"What, no answer? Not even a little small talk?"

A bullet whistled past me. I ducked behind rubble, letting it slam harmlessly into the wall.

"Fine, fine. I’ll tell you myself. The answer is—‘the bomb that destroys halos.’ A weapon built to kill students."

"…What!?"
"Tch—don’t fall for it! It’s just a trick to shake us!!"

…Gotcha.

One of the three flinched harder than the others.

That one’s carrying the halo-destroyer.

Target acquired.

"Urgh…!"

Damn it. Took a hit. No time to dwell on it.

Three enemies left.

The one who looks like their leader—a woman—she’s probably the one with the bomb. Each of them is stronger than the average Arius student.

If that’s true, I should’ve cut down more of their number in my opening strike.

That was the strongest move I had. In the middle of battle, I can’t risk using anything that might blow me up too.

So… my best chance is with the wounded.

"…ah!!"

I finished off the three already injured ones, knocking them unconscious with shots from my hand cannon.

That should stop the others from retreating with them.

"You bastard!!"

"Don’t talk to me about playing dirty!!"

Using every advantage of my small frame, I darted between their gunfire.

I leapt from cover, springing high, then kicked off the ceiling to close the distance.

"What the—!?"

I swept their legs, knocking one off balance, pressed my shotgun to their skull, and fired a mystic-infused blast.

Not out cold, but badly hurt.

"Grh…!"
"You—!!"

I used the staggered enemy as a shield, blocking incoming shots, then swung them hard and hurled them straight into the leader.

"You okay!?"
"Y-yeah… How can something so small hit that hard…!?"

Catching their ally gave me the opening I needed.

I didn’t waste it—this time, I loaded mystic energy into my hand cannon and fired at her feet.

But she sidestepped cleanly and countered.

"Kh—gahh!!"

The blow landed heavy. Strong. She’s the toughest one here—the leader.

Air rushed out of my lungs. Breathing was hard.

She pulled a bomb from her belt. Was that the halo-destroyer?

If so—then I’ll…!

"Hhhuuugh!!!"

Ignoring the searing pain, I kicked off the ground and sprinted straight for the three unconscious enemies.

"Cough…! Go on, throw it! If you do, your own allies die too!!"

"…Tch, damn it…!"

That’s why I revealed the existence of the halo-destroyer in the first place.

Even if they thought it was impossible… what if it was true?

All I needed was one instant of hesitation.

I rigged bombs to two of the fallen enemies, grabbed their legs, and hurled them forward while clutching another body as a shield to charge ahead.

"Dammit, hey—are you—"

"Boom."

The instant the two enemies caught their comrades, I detonated the bombs.

The ones holding on crumpled, knocked out cold.

That makes one down. Two left.

And then—

"Urghhh…!!"

A burst of fire erupted right in front of me.

Thankfully, just an ordinary bomb this time… but the blast still tore through me.

It hurts.

"Now!!!"

The last two closed in.

Dust stung my eyes—I could barely see.

Gunfire rained down on me, relentless.

"Tch… that stings…"

I pulled a flashbang from inside my coat and triggered it.

"Argh!!"
"Kh…!!"

Now we were all equally blind.

Rubbing my eyes, vision still blurry, I forced myself to focus and pressed the attack.

I toppled one, straddled him, and emptied the rest of my mystic-charged hand cannon into him.

At last, the enemy beneath me slumped unconscious.

But then—

"Kh—ghh!"

The leader—a woman—wrapped her hands around my throat, lifting me off the ground with ease.

"You’ve caused me enough trouble…!!"

"…! …gh…!"

No sound came out.

Oxygen drained away. Consciousness started to fade.

…Ah. So this is my loss.

"Who the hell are you, really…?"

Still… I think I did pretty well.

At least the kids got time to escape.

"…No matter. It doesn’t matter who you are."

"Ughh…!!"

Damn, that hurts… Don’t slam people into the ground. Don’t shoot them either.

You get shot, you usually die, y’know?

Of course it hurts. Of course it’s terrifying.

I hate fighting.

"If I recall, you called it… ‘the bomb that destroys halos,’ wasn’t it?"

…What am I even doing?

Why am I putting myself through this misery?

I thought I was doing pretty well.

But in the end—because of me, Cyan and Anna are dead.

Everyone ended up suffering.

What a joke.

"Our leader used it too, didn’t she?"
"…huh?"

Idiots. We’re all just idiots.

Couldn’t there have been a better way?

I mean… I ended up in the world of a series I loved.

I had knowledge of the original story.

And still, this is how it turned out—because of me.

So yeah, all these feelings… they’re nothing more than me lashing out.

"If you’re going to die like this… then you’re just another fool. You should’ve stayed down and behaved."

In the end, she’s just a victim too, isn’t she? Victim of the era, of her environment.

What’s the point of hating her for that?

"And those brats—you couldn’t protect them either, could you?"

"……… ……"

And then.

…Ah.

…What was it, again?

"…So you really are going to die. Maybe I should test it out on you first?"

"…"

Ah—yeah. That’s right.

…You’ve been running your mouth nonstop, you bastard.

"Ga—ghh…!? Still… able to move…?"

If I get close, you can’t use the bomb that destroys halos. You’d risk blowing yourself up too.

"But at this point—"
"Shut the hell up."

Yeah. Really.

You’re loud as hell. So am I.

"Do you enjoy it that much, watching people die?"

What a joke. Look who’s talking.

Me. I’m the one who killed them.

Doesn’t matter. This is just me lashing out.

Screw this.

But no—this is on me.

What good was being the "pinnacle of Arius’s mysticism," having knowledge of the original story, brains beyond my looks—whatever. All useless. Utterly useless.

I made it useless.

My shallow resolve, my weak will, my softness—because of all that, Cyan died. Anna died. Everyone ended up suffering.

"What… are you saying…?"

Damn bullets. Annoying as hell. Better dodge behind rubble.

‘Because that’s what an adult is supposed to do.’

That line—the teacher said it, in the original.

Yeah. I get it. Responsibility. Duty. As an adult.

To stand in for the kids. To bow your head alongside them. To guide them in the right direction. To share in their pain.

And me? As an adult—did I accomplish even one thing? Am I accomplishing anything now?

No way in hell. All I did was drag kids into a reckless plan, get them killed, get them hurt. Nothing else.

No better than Beatrice… no, worse.

This self-hatred, these thoughts—they’re just the ugliest form of self-love. Self-satisfaction. I only condemn myself so no one else can.

That’s all it is.

So yeah.

Whatever I’m about to do now—probably wrong too.

Whether it’s to let the kids escape.
Or to make sure Beatrice’s future never comes to pass.
Or to carry out a fragment of their will.

It’s all of those. And none of those.

Wrong. All the same.

…Like I care.

"What—!?"

I activate the bomb in my left hand and launch forward.

She’s stronger than me. But if I do this—speed doesn’t matter.

Huh. My left hand hurts like hell. Did I overload it with mysticism?

Ha… ha ha. Why the hell couldn’t I use this when Cyan was killed?

Useless trash.

Still—if it means my arm breaks, burns, tears apart—fine. At least it serves some pathetic purpose.

"But that alone won’t…!"

Blood. Blood, blood—spurting from me, raining from the bullets shredding through.

Ahh. Feels… almost good.

It’s just masochism. Just another way to cast myself as the victim, make myself pitiful.

But whatever. If it keeps me fighting, it’s enough.

Mysticism isn’t some miracle power that makes the impossible possible.

Just like my left arm won’t move anymore.

So if my spine snaps—maybe I won’t die.
But I sure as hell won’t move again.

"What… are you…!?"

With the bomb still in my right hand, I grab her throat—then trigger it.

Pain rips through my right arm, the same as my left—searing, burning, tearing apart.

"Gghhhk—cough… ghaa—"

That bomb—the one meant to destroy halos.

If I use it, I can win.

"…Die."

With this… she’ll—

"Stop—!"

"…!"
"I… I don’t… want to die… not yet…"

I pull the trigger of my shotgun and blast her head.

She slumps, unconscious.

That’s enough.

No need to use the halo-destroying bomb.

…What the hell was I about to do?

Acting on nothing but a moment’s emotion.

With no great cause, no righteous reason.

To try… to kill a person.

…a child.

"Ghh—haa… haa…!!"

No. That’s not quite right.

Because I already did it. Long ago.

I already killed them.
The two of them.

Cyan. Anna.

And all those other nameless students.

"………guhh—ghhk…!"

---

I returned to Arius’s autonomous district.

Blending in with the street children, I naturally slipped back into the role of an Arius student.

Self-hatred. Self-hatred. Self-hatred.
Nothing else.
Even that disgusts me.

Cyan, Anna… and so many others whose names I never knew—I killed them.

I should just die.

"Goddamn it…!!"

A shackle and tracker clamped to my left leg.
To stop the children from running.

Proof of my defeat.

I lacked everything.
Resolve. Determination. Knowledge. Power.

Nothing I had ever reached Beatrice.

"Don’t screw with me…!!!"

Burning anger.
Frustration.
Regret.

I’ll never let myself forget.

I couldn’t even see Beatrice’s face.

But next time—for sure.
Next time, I’ll put a bullet through her.

For that, I need preparation.

The perfect timing. The perfect conditions. The perfect forces.
All in place, before I strike.

Until then, my existence must stay hidden.

"…Ore—no. Watashi."

Even my way of speaking—I’ll change it.
I can’t be exposed. I can’t be suspected. Not even for a second.

I’ll create her.
This ‘watashi.’

The self that wins Beatrice’s trust.

"I am Suou Kirihana. The one who will lead Trinity to its end."

From now on, I am no longer myself.

Even if it means discarding everything I am.

I swear it.

"…I will save everyone. And I will kill Beatrice. With my own hands."

Because that’s the only thing left I can still do.

---

—Postscript—
The situation here is too serious to just leave it unaddressed, so I want to clarify. I’m truly sorry, but in this scene, Suou‑chan did not kill the pursuers.

When I said she had “already killed them,” I was referring to Cyan and Anna—whom she got caught up in a reckless plan and inadvertently killed. Seeing the pursuers begging for their lives reminded her of that, and the feeling comes out as a combination of guilt (thinking those two kids would’ve wanted to live, even though they were children) and self-hatred for having, in anger, tried to kill someone. That’s why she vomits that emotion—she didn’t actually kill the pursuers.

Looking back at the comments, I suddenly realized: “Huh? Did people think she killed the pursuers?” If so, I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding.

The original text read roughly like this:

I shot the head with the shotgun.
She was knocked out. That should have been enough.
…Already.
I had killed them.

…Reading it normally, I realize it can easily be interpreted as if she lost control in anger and accidentally killed the pursuers. It took me two whole days to notice this ambiguity.

This is entirely my lack of skill in depicting the scene. As an excuse, I reduced some situational description to make Suou‑chan’s emotional state feel more immediate, but that actually made the lack of clarity worse.

If anyone who liked this development and bookmarked or rated it thought she really killed the pursuers, I deeply apologize. Suou‑chan would not, under any circumstances, actually kill a child begging for their life… I should have made that clearer.

I will also address this in the next posted chapter (Chapter 17). Once again, I sincerely apologize.