Bastard of a viper.
One of the horrendous curses a Christian could utter.
In that very moment, as those words left his mouth and anger erupted, everyone affiliated with the Human Rights Organization reached into their pockets, performing similar actions.
Some pulled from their back pockets.
Some from their chests.
Some from their waists.
Some from their groins.
Some from their shoulders.
Each grasped the items they had stashed in their preferred locations, and the tiny safety devices attached to those items were disengaged, producing a sharp, mind-alerting sound that echoed through the floor.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
…
…
…
Not just one, but several.
And the chilling, empty barrels aimed at the man known as “Tango Golfer.”
With just a slight movement of a finger, a rain of lead would surely pour down upon him.
But the man showed no fear of the multitude of guns directed at him.
In fact, he scoffed.
“Pistols? You think a bunch of weapons that little girls and brats wield can even scratch me?”
He merely mocked the Human Rights Organization.
No, he mocked more than just them.
He even scoffed at the warrior, that warrior who had been grinding his teeth in determination to behead Lucas.
“And what’s that sword energy? You think that pathetic thing that’s barely better than a plastic fork can—”
BANG.
WHOOSH.
“—stab me in the gut!!!!!!”
He expressed his fury at those who dared to point weapons at him.
His rage stemmed from not recognizing the gap between himself and them, coupled with his indignation at being looked down upon by such rabble.
It was frustration at the inept conclusion that would completely erase the aftermath of the “fight” happening down below, and a selfish mindset that believed if there was a difference in skill, they should just shut their mouths instead of daring to aim such pitiful attacks at him.
The man exuded something resembling steam from his body, transforming himself in various ways.
His thick thigh muscles swelled as if they would explode, and some of his clothing shifted, adhering to his body in the form of artificial muscles.
Part of his skin glowed, revealing tattoo-like designs, which then morphed into circuits, enhancing his body with magical power.
BZZZZZZ-!
An explosive surge!
With a deafening mechanical roar, he seemed ready to sweep through the floor, embodying a terrifying presence.
Even his temperament was akin to that of a fighting rooster, making it hard for any average person to even dare lock eyes with him.
Moreover…
[ Ha, Tango Golfer. Damn it, I’ll help you for now. ]
As he sighed heavily, a presence beyond the walkie-talkie added its support, wanting nothing more than to wrap things up successfully.
The cold air rushing through the shattered water pipe cascaded down the walls like a waterfall, shrouding the floor in thick smoke that resembled dry ice billowing away.
BOOM-!
BOOM-!
BOOM-!
WHOOSH-!
Then came the sounds.
With those sounds, water began to shoot up from various places like fountains.
Could it be that a still intact water pipe burst?
Or perhaps a water bomb had been installed in the building?
Or did someone somehow draw water from somewhere to cause this explosion?
The water gushed forth like a fountain, ready to flood the entire floor.
And the moment it burst forth, it instantly froze when it touched the thick smoke.
Is it said that one can see the scene of waves freezing in the coldest of places?
The water burst forth, freezing in the very shape it took.
Like seeing a river frozen in the act of rolling in the midst of a cold snap, or beholding a sea frozen in the manner of trying to swallow everything.
Thus, the water froze, and from that frozen fountain bloomed ice flowers.
CRUNCH.
CRUNCH.
CRACK.
CRACK.
The sprouted ice flowers, with their thorns jutting out at all angles, spread out, and those beautiful ice flowers, unable to withstand their own weight, fell to the ground.
The broken ice that fell shattered explosively, and those shards became seeds.
CRUNCH!
From the seeds, sprouts began to grow.
Small ones reaching 30cm, larger ones extending to 2m.
Like bamboo springing up or a tree from hell growing into the shape of a spear, eager to pierce the sinners.
The seed shot up as a thorn, spearing through the entire floor with a thickness comparable to his forearm.
In that moment, everyone in the floor was encircled.
By the being aiming an ice spear at them.
Or by an army made entirely of ice.
Moreover, as the ice covered the floor, it even enhanced “Tango Golfer’s” abilities.
WHOOSH.
As the whole layer was enveloped in ice, the heat from the machinery attached to the man’s body was automatically reduced.
Thanks to that, even if he was put through harsher treatment than usual, the machines implanted in him maintained a temperature similar to normal—if not even lower than usual.
For others, regretfully.
Thus, it appeared that the tide was turning in favor of “Tango Golfer” and the man beyond the walkie-talkie.
But in that moment…
“The Evil Being spoke with the tongue of a serpent, saying, long ago there existed one named Poonka, who could shoot down the castle guards daily with miraculous feats. That miracle did not come from the heavens, but rather from beneath the earth, and only beings of hell can wield it!”
An unusual proclamation spilled from the mouth of the Human Rights Organization leader, the one who first uttered the curse “Bastard of a viper.”
[ What?! ]
A biblical verse?
An ancient tale?
With exaggerated intonation and grammar that seemed pulled from fairytales, along with words that seemed downright out of place for the current context.
It sounded so unexpected, it was not surprising.
Yet, the presence beyond the walkie-talkie was astounded upon hearing it.
[ Tango Golfer-! Shut that bastard’s mouth! It’s a spell—! ]
He was horrified and quickly relayed his deductions to “Tango Golfer,” urging him to twist that damn bastard’s neck to prevent the casting of the spell.
“The being tempted with its tongue, saying, ‘O you who grips the hand of the Evil Being, I shall grant you the wisdom to create an arrow that will surely strike.’ This wisdom is not only powerful but also easy to follow; by merely doing this lightly, you shall gain fame and wealth. Hence you shall say—”
“Damn it!”
Tango Golfer cursed at the shout of that nerd and leaped towards the leader of the Human Rights Organization.
To prevent that bastard from using his spell.
On his face lingered disappointment for having played around and getting entangled in such a mess.
But despite the disappointment, his expression wasn’t too dark.
His many battle experiences, instincts, and what his eyes analyzed told him… the being in front of him was not a shaman, just an ordinary person who had heard of a spell somewhere.
Even the foolishness of openly reciting a spell in front of an enemy compared to a typical shaman led him to easily assume that the being had lived a life without much combat.
So he thought.
If he twisted the neck of that fool who carried his spell like a bomb or a cannon, he would quickly wrap up this situation.
But his thoughts were both right and wrong.
The rightness lay in realizing that the existence before him had lived a life devoid of combat, was not a shaman, and had merely heard of the spell…
However…
BANG-!
BANG-!
BATATATAT-!
Regrettably, the belief that he could quickly wrap things up turned out to be incorrect.
The moment the man prepared to leap, bullets flew like rain.
And those bullets scratched at his body, bouncing off and showering him with lead.
And those ricocheted bullets exploded with a sound akin to a firecracker when they went off…
SQUEAK.
ZAP.
Beginning to malfunction, the man’s body was hit by an EMP.
“Damn it, Fu—”
Of course, that effect was not long-lasting.
It wasn’t a proper bomb, and what effect could there be from ammo assembled by amateurs?
Naturally, the EMP merely caused a brief confusion in the man’s body.
But in that brief moment.
“—During the grand mass, shoot at Christ. Aiming at the figure caught in the book, you must swear to abandon Christianity, and then shoot what is in your hand. Thus the trajectory will form, and in that moment when you shoot Christ, you will receive a miracle, allowing you to shoot as many enemies as the number you have betrayed Christ!”
The spell from the Human Rights Organization leader was completed.
