Chapter 194
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 194
Chapter Title: Extreme Counter
Said it coolly like that, but honestly, I'm scared. I don't know if I can win.
The reason? Just one. Forcing my trembling legs to move reveals the woman right before my eyes.
She's wearing a mask and has her robe's hood pulled down over her head.
Gloves on her hands. Tall black high heels on her feet. Covering her legs, hands, and face.
A woman whose skin isn't visible anywhere. I know her. No way I wouldn't.
The leader of the organization Anti-Mana. A lunatic who believes mana is oppressed by humans.
An action-oriented fanatic who sees collapsing the Magic Association and the Magic Tower as the solution.
"...."
I want to run. For real. This woman is on a whole different level from Park Shin-woo and the chimeras I fought earlier.
She's the leader of an organization, so being incomparable is natural, but that's not the point.
This world isn't like mine, where anyone with a gun is evenly matched.
There are counters.
Simple concept. Swordsmen lose to archers, archers to mages.
The usual type advantages everywhere. But they intensify as mana usage deepens.
Park Shin-woo and I were an extreme counter. No matter what he tried, he couldn't beat me.
So, what's my counter against that woman?
This is an extreme counter too. Just reversed. No matter what I do, I can't beat her.
Mages are usually my prey. But not her.
I regret it. Should've jumped in blind. Should've ID'd the opponent first and taunted.
Can't run now. Why's the boss here in the first place?
Not even commanding some big facility takedown—just a school.
Coming to a school full of kids to deal with kids—did she really have to tag along?
Thinking that far, a line from first semester suddenly pops into my head.
—Thanks are in order.
—Thanks to you nabbing Park Shin-woo, we pinpointed Anti-Mana's base and wiped them out.
—For that much, I'm grateful.
"Ah."
Now it clicks.
These guys—
Short-staffed. That's why she's here.
"You or me."
We've both got it rough. But I can't hand over Isia.
Put her down first and talk it out?
Reaching her, I scanned the surroundings. No attacks yet, just wary glares, so I had some breathing room.
The trembling must be my imagination.
Huge craters everywhere. Nearby buildings half-collapsed, on the verge of crumbling.
Scattered silver hair, battered black hair, and two other students who look like Isia's team.
One conclusion from all this.
"You toyed with them."
If she'd fought seriously, no craters. No half-ruined buildings, no team beat to hell like this.
It would've ended in one shot.
So only one answer. She probably.
Wanted to gauge how strong Isia had gotten, so she held back on purpose.
And this is the result.
"Y-you... Wh-what are you?!"
I didn't answer. Walked slowly to the sprawled Sophia. The others? Not my problem. Justitia students are sturdy beyond tough—they'd walk away with a cold at worst.
"M-mana fears you? Th-that make sense?! What are you?! Some black dragon?!"
She's just spouting nonsense I can't parse. Want to reply, but it makes zero sense.
So I did my thing. Flipped Sophia face-up, brushed the dirt off her ruined pretty face, laid her out proper.
Next—
"That's my wallet, I said. Wanna trip to the station?"
Isia.
She'll come back once I drop her foe, but leaving her dangling unconscious is risky.
"W-wallet?! Calling a person a wallet?! Sure, I'm the bad guy, but I don't call friends that!"
"What else you call a wallet? You saying I'm worse than you right now?"
"Y-yeah?"
Does that even compute? Kidnapper versus rescuer.
Anyone—even the neighbor's mutt—knows who's worse. I scoff in disbelief, and she blows up, bellowing.
"Y-you saying I've got no friends?!"
Didn't go that far. She's straight-up confessing she's friendless. Hm. Never scripted her that way.
Good intel.
She's stomping and yelling something like 'That's!!' I take it in while spinning my scythe.
Looks dumb as hell, but words won't work on her. Tell her to drop the Isia kidnapping? Quit her ops?
She trusts only the flower field in her head. Meaning.
Zero chance of reforming her.
Counter's extreme. Can't win, period. Words won't reform her either.
So, what's the play? Only one option.
"Hey. Luna."
"Why call— how do you know my name?!"
Ignoring her dumb reply, I charge. Her panicked face looms closer.
Talk and ambush. Looks dirty to bystanders, but beating an extreme counter has one way.
Defy expectations. One-shot with the unforeseen strike.
Nothing else. Vision flickers. Top speed from Agility (High) propels a ferocious dash, scythe swinging.
Target's her neck, obviously. No hauling capacity for an unreformable problem child.
One-shot kill, then home for puzzle time with Levatein.
Laugh and chat with Sion, game with Raphael for fun.
That drive fueled the swing. Swung, but—
No bite. No familiar hand feel.
She dodges like it's nothing, masked glare filling my sight.
"That's why it's an extreme counter."
My weakness? Physical stats trash. Long fights? No. Only [Agility] holds up.
But mages? Same physical trash, their spells fizzle—I win.
Except her. She's—
"Talk and attack?"
Battle mage, textbook case. Mana-charged fist barrels in.
Barely twist midair to evade, then an unblockable black heel whistles from another angle.
—This connects, I'm dead.
The thought hits as my body moves on autopilot. Jam the scythe into the ground.
Grip the pole, wrench my position. Her midair leap, foot stabbing empty air like a joke.
Eyes lock. I don't stop. Spin on the pole, yank it free.
Blade and I whirl airborne. Like a chariot wheel—Luna backflips to dodge the spin.
End result.
I end up shielding Isia.
"Good result's what counts."
Right?
'What the hell.'
The masked woman—Luna—is frozen, body locked in shock. The man's stunt.
No normal human could even try it.
Scythe to ground midair for the dodge, yank for counter.
No one could copy it. No one'd dare.
But not over. One scythe swing disperses the mana binding Isia.
Mana cowers. Magic erased. Barely traded blows, yet his vibrating blood scent clings to my clothes, unshakeable.
'Wait. Blood scent?'
What'd bleed? Hologram training intrusion?
That realization sends chills racking her body. What bleeds there?
Students practicing hologram fights. Only one possibility.
'The chimera Park Shin-woo brought.'
Instant clarity on his identity. The revenge-obsessed blade-sharpener. The one who bagged Park Shin-woo.
Heard he was weak? Can't control his own body—quick dispatch, they said.
So what's this in front of me?
Call that weak? Only a demon king, vampire lord.
Or hell's devils. Or dragons holed in lairs.
"Lee Seong-hoon."
"Huh? How'd you know? Hold up. Lay Isia down, then round two. I'll ambush. Don't block. Got it?"
No reply. Luna's got a dumb streak, but her mind accelerates fast.
Can't climb to org head just on brute strength and stupidity.
Judgment snaps. Man who crushed chimera and Park. Erases magic on contact.
Prime Anti-Mana material. But a persistent thorn.
Can't let live. Shame, but decision made. No hesitation.
"Huh? Wait. Talk it out. Talk. Hold—!!"
Words like that won't land. No chants needed. She despises chant magic.
Body's graven magic circle ignites. No chant, no formula deployment. Pre-etched spells surge from her, radiating outward.
Lee Seong-hoon's voice recedes, then surges close.
Cityscape backdrop rips and pastes. Sketchbook pages shredding, yielding to blank white void.
Lee Seong-hoon whips around in panic. This is why he and Luna are an extreme counter.
Mismatch from jump. He knows he'd fold to a physical brawler in ten seconds.
His sole win con? Last-ditch lair.
Mana crushes flesh, tanks stats for the fight.
But here? Different story. Her magic-spawned domain.
Anti-chant zealot's creation: Zero Zone.
No-mana space. Pure physical brawl—like lair, but alien.
No lair deployable. No escape. Melee? Ten seconds to loss.
"Damn."
He knows. Hollow laugh. Luna assumes stance.
"Tried one-shot to dodge this—!!"
Over. He dies here. She deployed this—no time for banter.
Judged kill essential. Charges. Blink-fast.
Mage domain favors the caster—basic fact. Heels faster than city blitz in.
Face the bullseye. Instant rush, but he slips by a hair.
Not clean—cheek rips, blood sprays. No finish. Body spin, heel to skull from fresh angle.
One-shot hunt. No mana. Strongest falter adapting sans it.
Always her MO. Must-kill? Drag here, instant death.
Always had. Must now.
"Huh?"
Dumb yelp slips unbidden. Extended leg should've geysered blood.
Smash feel, man toppling like a puppet.
But this? Luna can't process.
Cognition lags. Body freezes, gaze locks.
Thoughts alone race. Time-stop realization? Quick.
Voice rings. Source unknown. Head-echo nausea-inducing.
Intensifies. Vision ripples. Hand emerges.
Delicate hand. Flawless white.
The white hand snaps.
Snap—!!!
Crisp sound reverberates. That's all. But.
Enough.
Crash—!!!!!!!!!!!
No cracks form. Mere finger flick shatters her lifetime magic opus.
Shards whirl from the broken space, cityscape reemerges, time flows.
Simultaneous. Extension from the hand. Purple hair, purple eyes, maid-clad entity.
Eyes meet. She beams.
Her mere gaze slams airborne Luna to the ground, squashing her flat.