Chapter 139
Chapter 139
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 139
Chapter Title: Tower of Trials Floor 6: Parrying
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James, the Gunslinger of the Wasteland, was a wall for most academy students. Powerful bullets fired without incantation, and the mounting pressure of instant-death attacks the longer the fight dragged on.
On top of that, he was a gimmick-heavy boss.
A barren wasteland where tumbleweeds rolled about, with the sun high in the sky at entry. James unleashed a barrage of patterns: gunfire raining like biblical plagues from the heavens, lasso throws, and more.
Suddenly, a herd of water buffalo charging from across the map served as a time-wasting tactic. Fail to position correctly, and you'd get swept away.
As time passed, the sun dipped toward the horizon. Then, a low western-style BGM kicked in, and instant-death attacks blanketed the battlefield.
Bullets that killed on hit.
In other words, you had to meet the DPS check.
Break through the patterns and sever James's head from his body before the instant-death phase. That's why most couldn't get past him. Desperation didn't magically create DPS out of thin air.
Unless your party had someone who'd reached Transcendence, or overwhelming numbers to brute-force it.
Floor 6: James, Gunslinger of the Wasteland // 11 minutes (MVP: Tara)
Bennett's party had cleared it via Tara's raw DPS overwhelm.
The six tower raiders huddled up to discuss. Envers and Luna sat together; the other four grouped nearby, with three of them practically glued side-by-side.
First up: interpreting the condition. The Tower of Trials was kind enough to notify players of challenge conditions via system messages, but...
"What's this 'Quickdraw' thing mean, Bennett?"
-It says 'quickly drawing,' but it doesn't mean fight with sword-drawing techniques, right?
"Quickly drawing, huh... Bennett, wanna go try drawing it quick?"
-Doing it together might make it draw even quicker, Bennett.
"...What the hell are you two even talking about? Academy rules forbid that kinda stuff!"
Selbia recoiled at the awkward, suspiciously adult vibe sandwiching the one guy. What was this? Had those two already climbed the stairs to adulthood? Niore... when the hell did that happen?!
But Bennett brushed off the pink atmosphere like it was routine.
"Guess we just ask."
"...Ask who?"
"Obviously, James the Gunslinger of the Wasteland."
"That line of thinking is utterly incomprehensible..."
Asking the challenge target about the challenge itself. But in a way, it made perfect sense.
If challenges fulfilled the tower residents' wishes, then they were the ones who wanted it.
"Let's hear it straight from the horse's mouth."
"You said it's real, and I believe Floor 8 is too... but the Tower of Trials could just be Illusion Magic."
"Even if it is an illusion. The mad wizard's just eccentric—he's rational at heart. Suppose he planted a puzzle."
Answer Inheritance, Tentacle Labyrinth, and all the follow-up classes had clear solutions. This tower would be no different.
Somewhere, there was an answer. And if it involved an unfamiliar term never heard before, it'd be easier to glean info from planted hints than rummaging through library tomes.
"Or maybe a note hidden somewhere on Floor 6."
-Then shall we head in first? We can figure it out as we go.
"Yeah. No rush."
The party entered the Tower of Trials.
A cowboy-hatted man stood with a cigar in his mouth, legs crossed atop the wasteland. His stance was full of martial openings, but most of his firepower came from his pistols.
So the real threat was his hands. The overall posture looked lax, but his fingers and arm muscles were taut with tension. He was always ready to fire.
The moment the opponent attacked, James struck back.
Other parties burned this odd standoff with preemptive strikes; Bennett had too. But not this time. Bennett approached empty-handed, sword undrawn. Interest flickered in James's eyes.
Bennett cut straight to it with James spinning his pistol.
"What's a Quickdraw duel?"
"Ah, a showdown! You interested? Nah, you gotta be. Makes my mouth water—been a while. It's a sacred western rite. A clash of guts and skill."
James lit up, eagerly explaining the western duel. Face off, draw, and shoot faster and truer than your foe. End it with the first shot, or it ain't romantic.
Bennett listened intently, then nodded.
"Mind if we settle it that way?"
"Hell yeah! That's the real deal! A wasteland-born man goes out in style. Got a gun?"
"If you mean that artifact that booms like thunder, nope."
"Talkin' like a native. Alright, partner. I'll lend ya one—let's play."
"...!!!!"
Selbia's face froze like she'd been struck by lightning at this smooth unfolding. Maybe that's how he'd sweet-talked that stubborn dwarf too.
"No, no way. That old coot was too crusty for words..."
Selbia shook off the lingering 'what if' with thoughts of fresh grapes meta. And those three simultaneous ballista hits were badass anyway. That was enough. Yeah.
James handed Bennett a pistol.
Then he stripped off his gear, removing steel plates and artifacts slotted between layers. Protective charms, shock-reduction force fields, auto-heal artifacts...
Bennett shed his armor too, prepping for the duel. James beamed, thrilled someone was playing along with his fantasy. Even the mad wizard cracked a smile.
The rest of the party settled into spectator seats (a convenient high rock).
Tara gawked at the endless stream of James's tank gear. Enough to build a small tower.
"No wonder the bastard was so damn tanky."
-You were pissed as hell smashing it, right?
"Yeah, no Vulnerable state to speedrun it. Just had to whale on him nonstop. Infuriating!"
-Still, took only about ten minutes. You were hot back then, Tara.
As Tara and Niore chatted amiably with smiles, Selbia edged in.
"Uh... you guys not worried?"
-Oh, Selbia. Worried?
"About Bennett. Sure, no real harm in the Tower of Trials, but I'd still be nervous..."
"He has his ace. Selbia, was it? We can just watch."
Tara patted Selbia's shoulder reassuringly and lounged back. Meanwhile, Niore pulled out some artifact. A communicator? Selbia floated question marks—what was going on?—but sat anyway.
The western duel began.
Tumbleweeds rolled between Bennett and James; sand-laced wind tugged at coats.
A first-timer would've died two or three times learning gun handling. But he'd handled otherworldly experience already knew the controls.
Not expertly, though.
Compared to James firing at invisible speeds, the skill gap was massive. But it didn't matter.
"That's Niore's ace."
-Don't forget, Bennett: 23, 47, 59, paint, 42, 17, fire.
Precise telepathic instructions rang out. Bennett fired per Niore's commands. Gunshots overlapped with a slight delay.
Bang, BANG──!!
Acrid gunpowder stench filled the ensuing silence.
Bennett clutched his side and slumped; James toppled backward with a hole in his forehead. Tara rushed to heal Bennett.
The wounds would vanish outside the tower, but it was an excuse to flirt.
Envers muttered watching it unfold.
"...We could've done that too."
"No."
"We could have. If you'd read James's moves like... that Niore. And I shot like Bennett..."
"Idiot."
Luna traced circles of differing sizes with both hands. Specs gap was insurmountable. The shots looked skill-free, but...
-Not a fair fight. Right?
"Yeah."
-Bennett's gun had lower power, and James didn't ditch all his defenses. Seemed like a straight 1v1, but the scales tipped his way.
"Hence, the physical."
Bennett's Transcendent Vow was a sword of the heart. Free summon/unsummon let him conjure a shield—sloped armor—at the hit moment.
And.
-James's deflected bullet ricocheting skyward? I magic-bounced it back. Payback. He fires those delayed instant-death rounds. Figured he'd use one here too.
"So, forehead hit. Not temple."
The duel ended in a flash. That was the full story.
▲ Bennett
▲ Envers