Terrorist #057
The hallway erupted into pandemonium.
“What the hell? What is that sound?”
“Boom? Did someone say boom?”
“What the fuck is that noise coming from the west window—oh shit!”
Glass shattered with a violent crash. A storm of dust and debris howled into the corridor, the pressure so fierce it turned everything into instant chaos. The air thickened into an impenetrable haze. I couldn’t see a thing. Grit and dirt coated my tongue. Coughs and confused screams echoed everywhere. I moved immediately, desperate to escape, but my blurred vision only caught vague shapes—someone’s shoulder, the edge of a foot. With no other choice, I pulled mana into my eyes and sharpened my sight. I knew I should conserve it, but this situation left me no alternative.
A refreshing clarity spread as the yellowish-gray dust thinned. It wasn’t the clean precision of a proper spell, but it was enough to distinguish objects. I picked my way forward through shafts of sunlight slicing through the broken windows and the glittering particles swirling in the air.
BOOM—!!!
A far louder explosion rocked the floor, followed by a shockwave that hadn’t been there before. Another savage gust slammed down the hallway.
“Kyaaak!”
“Is anyone there?! Help me!”
“I can’t see anything!”
Debris flew in every direction. Clouds of dirt rolled through the corridor. People tumbled across the floor. I barely kept my balance as I stared out the shattered window.
“Fuck…”
A pillar of fire blazed in the distance. It looked exactly like the aftermath of a high-yield bomb—flames roaring skyward, the surrounding area already reduced to scorched ruins. The real problem was that this wasn’t the only inferno. Multiple large-scale detonations had gone off simultaneously. The sheer scale felt unreal.
Is my admission next year completely fucked?
Why did this have to happen during my exam? How unlucky did someone have to be to walk straight into a terrorist attack? How the hell was I supposed to survive this? For a split second my mind nearly bankrupted itself with panic. If I hadn’t already steeled myself to become a hunter, I might have collapsed right there.
I grimaced, spat out a mouthful of dust, and forced myself forward. A few steps later I froze.
“Hiiik… W-where am I…?”
A woman stood directly ahead, frantically patting the wall in confusion. Shannon. Beside her, a man hissed in pain.
“Ow—fuck! My hand…!”
Glass shards were buried deep in both of his palms. The World Tree zealot couldn’t even tear his scroll. I could have ignored them. If I pushed my abilities to the limit and ran, I could clear the blast radius in seconds. But what about Shannon? Would she survive?
In the original game story she always lived. Her survival would keep the protagonist on the intended Gray Zone route. Yet this wasn’t an event written into the game. It could be a hidden setting, a secret story branch, or a divergence that had broken off at some unknown point. Her survival was genuinely uncertain.
If I abandoned her and she actually died… her future friend, the protagonist, would be affected in ways I couldn’t predict. If he never reached the same starting strength without her, that would create an entirely new set of problems. I might end up carrying his burden myself. That was unacceptable. I was only equipped to be a decent hunter, not the kind who could grind through to a happy ending. The protagonist was supposed to be the one who suffered. I had zero interest in rolling around in the dirt like he did.
My decision came fast. I glanced at my wrist.
Vitality: 10/10
Shield: 5/5
The shield was still at full capacity. My odds of dying were low. Low risk, low return. But if I ran away instead?
“High risk, low return.”
Intervening clearly gave everyone a better chance of survival than abandoning them. The information was limited, but the conclusion felt obvious. I chose to gamble.
I hurried over to Shannon. As a mage she hadn’t even bothered with vision enhancement.
“Ah…? You’re the one who crushed the practical test earlier…”
Good—she remembered my face. No need for long explanations.
“Don’t look around. Run straight that way as fast as you can.”
“Eh…? Run?”
“Keep going straight and you’ll hit the exit! Stop wasting time and go!”
I shoved her forward, forcing her down the corridor even as she kept trying to stare at my face. Then I turned.
The World Tree zealot was still on his feet, struggling to pull glass out of his palms. A scroll lay on the floor beside him. I had to stop him. I approached in complete silence.
“Huh?”
I kicked the scroll away before he could reach it. The zealot, both palms now free of glass, finally looked at me. He hadn’t even processed the situation yet. I sharpened my senses to slow the flow of time. Swirling yellow dust drifted lazily. The wind’s currents warped. His gaze, breathing, and every tiny movement became readable. The instant his pupils dilated, I seized his right arm.
“What the—”
No hesitation. My knee slammed upward into his elbow joint.
Crack.
The joint bent at a grotesque angle and snapped.
“Aaaargh! My arm! My arm!!!”
“Who the hell are you?! How did you get in here!”
But it wasn’t over. He could still tear the scrolls attached to his body. Ignoring his screams, I channeled a thread of mana into my leg, reinforced it, and drove my foot into his knee. Another sickening crunch—the joint twisted backward. His stance collapsed and he crashed onto the glass-covered floor, convulsing as shards tore into his skin. Even through the agony he still tried to reach for a scroll. It was pointless. The explosion scroll had landed far away, and the settling dust still blocked his vision. If he’d known any magic he might have put up a fight, but he showed not even a single pound of resistance.
“Of course. Why would they waste high-quality assets on a suicide bombing?”
Without their faith these people were nothing. That was why he couldn’t mount any real defense while I systematically destroyed his joints. I grabbed his remaining good arm, carefully cradled the palm and wrist, then twisted until it shattered.
“Aaaaagh! Aaaaaaaaaaaagh! Graaaah!”
Now he was a cripple with only one working leg. Yet the scrolls still plastered across his body remained a threat. If he managed to tear one open with the glass, we’d have another disaster. I wrapped my arm around his throat.
“Kek—kehehek…! Let go right now…! Do you have any idea who I—”
“Who?”
“Squire of the Sword Master! Knight of the Greater Germanic Nation under the World Tree Tribe! Proxy of the World—”
“And your precious World Tree can greet you in hell!”
I lifted him off the ground, compressing his neck. My greater height left him dangling like a man on the gallows. Years of playfully choking Cheon Mari from behind or face-to-face had made the technique second nature. He thrashed, tears streaming, but my practiced grip rendered him helpless.
“Everyone run! I’ll handle the terrorist!”
I shouted at the still-panicking crowd. While I strangled him, the others relied on the slowly clearing air and began stumbling out of the exam hall. Outside might be dangerous, but staying here was just as lethal. At least out there they had a chance.
I kept shouting until the zealot finally went limp. His tongue lolled out, eyes rolled back—an ugly sight. I gave his neck one last sharp twist and hurled the corpse to the floor.
“Whew. That was too fucking close.”
The broken glass had bought precious seconds. Without it, a lot more people would have died.
“Now for these scrolls.”
They were essentially live explosives. Leaving them behind was asking for trouble. I’d figure out the next step after securing them. I peeled the scrolls off the cooling body one by one, stacking them neatly. Then I took a shard of glass and stabbed the center of the pile repeatedly.
Blue particles rose faintly from the ruined paper and flowed into me before fading. The scrolls had been destroyed, their mana drained. It looked like I’d simply torn them to shreds, but the real purpose was absorption. I didn’t enjoy destroying high-grade items, yet these were too dangerous to leave intact. If the enemy recovered them, the consequences could be catastrophic. At least this way they couldn’t cause any more damage.
I moved toward the final scroll I had kicked aside earlier. The moment I reached for it, a shadow fell across the floor. Someone snatched it before I could.
“Oh. There’s still someone who hasn’t left.”
I’d assumed everyone fled once the dust settled, but one examinee remained. I lifted my head to explain why the scroll needed to be destroyed.
“Sorry, but could you hand that scroll over—”
The words died in my throat. A wave of unease surged through me.
“…Blonde?”
Same golden hair as the dead man on the floor. Hoping against hope, I lowered my gaze. The bad omen proved true. In the stranger’s hand was a scroll already torn open.
“May the World Tree’s blessing be upon you.”
The cold voice matched the brutal reality. The backup had been someone I never saw coming.