A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Blood drips down my jawline. An inexplicable sense of unease creeps into my chest, making my skin damp with cold sweat.

I limp up the emergency stairs.

“Damn it…!”

I somehow made it up the stairs to the third floor, but the exit is blocked by a box. Stupid department store. This is a violation of fire safety regulations, damn it!

Muffled curses and shouts rise from below. Looks like the terrorists are already hot on my tail.

I loaded a bullet into the empty chamber and aimed down the stairs.

-—!!

“Grrraaahh!”

The dimly lit stairwell is suddenly filled with light, and a shriek echoes through the air. Looks like someone got hit.

“Get up! Get up!”

“Kill that bastard!”

“Go get him!”

From now on, it’s life or death.

If I don’t want to die.

Episode 8 – Say Hello To My Little Friend

Fighting against multiple opponents is realistically difficult. Especially when it’s a melee and not just a shootout.

There are six terrorists chasing me. The ones who were guarding the cargo and those who were moving it have all come after me.

Unless I’m Rambo, I need to take them on one at a time, not all at once.

In that sense, the stairwell is a pretty good setup.

-—!!

The heavy gunfire shakes the stairs. Flames from the muzzle illuminate the dark emergency staircase in an instant.

I fired the shotgun, smashing the heads of the terrorists crawling up the stairs.

-—!! —!!

With the elevated position, the narrow path, and the superior firepower that turns limbs into ragdolls, I might be injured, but things aren’t looking too bad.

The problem is, I’m not the only one with a gun.

“Ugh…!”

One of the terrorists with a bushy beard leans in and aims something at me. A pistol.

Bam! I twisted my body, dodging inward as the bullet whizzed past, embedding itself in the railing. It sparkled just like a scene from a movie. I stumbled backward from the sudden gunfire, and the terrorist took advantage, firing a few more shots at where I had been.

“Get up! Now’s our chance!”

That shout kickstarted a flurry of footsteps filling the staircase.

As I took out a shell from my pocket and loaded it one by one, I took a deep breath and sprang into action.

I made eye contact with the first terrorist coming up.

Armed with a knife, he glared at me, shaking his head as he reached for me, and I calmly squeezed the trigger on my shotgun.

-—!!

With the gunshot, the terrorist’s body collapsed. The chest that took the shotgun blast was left in tatters. The next terrorist in line, following the first, accidentally caught his collapsing comrade’s body.

Clang. An empty shell fell and rolled on the floor.

As I prepared my next shot, I aimed at the terrorist who was now flustered and trying to shove the corpse aside.

I pulled the trigger.

“Damn it, I’m screwed…”

-Tick!

The staircase filled with curses and screams, the sound of a bullet was clearly audible, but none came out. A malfunction.

The terrorist seemed to notice, a smile creeping onto his face as he tightened his grip on the knife.

“That bastard is out of bullets! He’s useless now!”

“Kill him!”

The terrorists shouted and rushed up the stairs.

There’s nowhere left to retreat.

It’s the start of a melee.

*

I decided to take down the first terrorist who came up.

“Die!”

I gripped the shotgun backwards and slammed it against the terrorist’s head.

-Smack!

The butt of the gun hit him right at the temple.

The already battered wooden butt of the old shotgun shattered on impact.

Now I can’t shoot anymore. Firing is still possible without the butt, but fixing a jam like that takes time I don’t have when a knife is buried in me. I discarded the shotgun and drew out my knife.

-Swish!

I swung at the terrorist’s neck with the blade. The feeling was like slicing through water, followed by a crunch as I struck. The dazed terrorist lost consciousness as his carotid was severed, and I pulled out the knife, pushing the corpse over the railing.

Thud! The body tumbled down with a loud crash. The remaining terrorists scattered left and right to avoid the corpse. The leading terrorist glanced at his fallen comrade, gritted his teeth, and tightened his grip on his axe.

The third terrorist, now in the lead, appeared right before me.

“You bastard! I’ll chop you into pieces!”

The gleaming axe sliced through the air, aiming for my shoulder.

The terrorist swung his handaxe with all his strength, utilizing his waist. I stepped back with my right foot and leaned away to dodge the axe.

-Clang!

The axe shattered the concrete wall.

Realizing the attack had missed, the terrorist attempted to regain his footing.

But I seized the chance, slipping inside and slashing at his armpit.

-Swish!

It felt like slicing through lotus roots, along with the sound of cutting cabbage. I had severed his blood vessel.

Convinced I had done enough, I grasped his arm and plunged the knife deeper into his armpit.

“Grrrrraaahh!”

Blood erupted from the artery of the mortally wounded terrorist. He clutched at his armpit in a panic.

Taking advantage of his shock, I snatched the axe from him and buried it into his neck.

Thunk! The well-honed axe embedded in his flesh. His lifeless eyes stared vacantly as his body dropped cold to the ground.

After killing the terrorist wielding the axe, I glared at the remaining terrorists.

“…”

“…”

“…”

There was no need for conversation.

The two terrorists frozen like deer in headlights exchanged glances.

“…”

“…Let’s go!”

Two of them leapt over their fallen comrades and attacked me simultaneously.

The first terrorist to arise wielded a hunting knife. He screamed as he swung the knife, and I reflexively raised my arm to block the attack.

In that instant, I felt a sharp pain shoot through my forearm. I had been cut.

Quickly spinning my arm to check the injury, I saw my skin ripped along the path of the knife, and my left forearm stained red against the white shirt. Moving my arm didn’t feel restricted, so it wasn’t too deep.

I calmly extended my right hand holding the knife forward, while placing my injured left hand on my chin. The terrorist, noticing my wound, wickedly grinned and thrust the knife at me.

“Die!”

The knife came in. Aiming for my abdomen.

I stepped sideways to dodge the knife, then caught the terrorist’s arm that couldn’t stop itself with the momentum, wedging it under my armpit. The terrorist was plainly panicked, struggling to free himself.

A person can move their body however they’d like, thanks to joints. Most joints can only bend in one direction, however, except a few particular ones.

For instance, the human elbow joint bends inward.

If it doesn’t bend the other way, that is.

-Crack!

“Grrrraaahhh…! My arm…!”

I slashed the throat of the terrorist whose arm had been bent back. Blood gushed out like a tap turned on.

I lifted the flailing terrorist and tossed him over the railing; his body hit the stairs below with a sickening crunch.

Now there are two left.

One’s armed with a big knife, and the other has a revolver—a model from the Civil War era. The very one that was blasting away down the stairs just moments ago.

First, I need to take out the knife guy. Just as I decided to take them out one by one, it happened.

-Bang—!

With the sound of a bullet, my body jolted. My mind went dizzy for a moment, and the strength drained from my legs. I lost my grip on the knife, and it rolled away down the stairs.

As I looked down, I found a bullet lodged in my right thigh. To be precise, there was a hole big enough for a finger to fit through in my dress pants.

The knife-wielding terrorist, possibly unfamiliar with gunfights, lost his balance and leaned against the wall, groaning, while the one with the revolver was casually tapping his cylinder.

Seeing that, I didn’t hesitate anymore.

Seizing the moment as he reloaded, I punched the groaning terrorist in the face to take him down and shoved him aside.

The tangled terrorists rolled down the emergency stairs, crashing into one another.

“Arghh-!”

“Ugh…! Move over…!”

Bumping into each other, they struggled to load the bullets and shouted for their fallen comrades to get up.

-—!

With a heavy gunshot, the heads of both terrorists exploded.

The shotgun I had set down earlier was now back in my hands, and the failed bullet rolled on the ground beside me.

“…”

Staring down at the dead terrorists all tangled together, I dropped the shotgun and leaned against the wall, sitting down.

The tension throughout my body melted away. I couldn’t hold myself up, let alone move a finger.

I took a shallow breath and sighed as I surveyed the area.

“…Ugh.”

My shoulder was injured, my forearm was torn, and I had a bullet in my thigh. My once-favorite suit was now in tatters. I was even out of money in my bank account.

I wanted to cry, but no tears came. So I closed my eyes, resting my head against the wall quietly.

“…Ah, life.”

I’m really itching to quit.