CHAPTER 6: Bullets in the Dark

Artou

After years of searching, I finally found another human. But despite his raw physical prowess, he lacked magic. That was the worst-case scenario.

The day I met him in the forest, I was overjoyed, thinking my luck had finally changed. I gave him a potion to mask his human aura and enchanted him with subtle charms—ones that would ensure he saw me as a friend and followed my orders. If he ever tried to run, turn against me, or become a problem, I had contingencies in place.

But if I’m being honest, he probably would have followed me even without the spell. Aeon trusted me blindly. At first, I thought he was just naïve, but considering how his entire world was ripped away in an instant during the Transition, it made sense. This world—its ruthless rules, the way people would kill without hesitation for the smallest gain—was still new to him. I understood him, because I was in his shoes once too.

And yet, as I watched him struggle against Zasz, I felt something unfamiliar—guilt.

I couldn’t interfere. Not for Aeon his purpose to me was in his magic and since he have none risking everything I’d built in the Adventurer’s Guild would be reckless. But when Zasz raised his foot for the killing blow, something inside me snapped.

“Enough.” My voice rang sharp as I raised my gun and aimed it at Zasz’s head.

The Majin smirked but stepped back, leaving Aeon gasping for air. “Finally decided to join the party, huh?” He cracked his neck and flexed his fingers. “I’ve been meaning to deal with you for a while now.”

“I see you hold a grudge too long Zasz” I replied his focus leaving Aeon and turning to me, he didn’t care about Aeon or the fire gem, he just wanted to get to me.

Zasz’s cocky grin faltered for just a second. Then, his amusement faded, replaced by something darker. His shadow stretched unnaturally beneath him, the midday sun casting deep, shifting shapes across the ground.

I knew how dangerous his abilities were. His shadow magic let him teleport between darkness, slipping through the battlefield like a phantom. The stronger the shadow, the greater his reach. Right now, he had plenty—boulders, scattered debris, and the looming outline of a mountain.

He moved first. A blur. His figure melted into the shadows, and in the blink of an eye, he reappeared beside me, his foot swinging toward my ribs.

I snatched a weapon from my belt, always keeping useful tools and arms within reach. Just in time, I raised a short shotgun—modified with magic and enhanced by my own touch—to block the attack. A sharp pain shot through my wrist. I wasn’t as tough as Aeon; one or two solid blows could end me. But I had something he didn’t—years of hard-earned experience. Whether battling monsters or people, I had grown accustomed to fighting, even picking up martial arts unique to this world.

Zasz teleported away again before I could counter. He was fast. Too fast.

I fired, but he weaved through the bullets, slipping into the dark patches around us. His movements were erratic, impossible to track, let alone predict. The outskirts of town, where Roblard lived, weren’t the ideal battlefield for Zasz’s abilities, but even here, he was nearly untouchable.

He paused for a moment as I reloaded, watching me with knowing eyes. He understood my weapons just as well as I knew his tricks. We had worked missions together before—his magic had propelled him through the guild ranks, but he had always remained a shadow cast beneath my accomplishments. I had outranked him every step of the way. His arrogance and overconfidence had held him back, and when he realized he would never surpass me, he abandoned adventuring altogether, settling in a village where he could prey on the weak.

He pressed his hand on the ground and Shadows writhed, stretching and twisting until two monstrous hounds emerged. Snarling, they lunged toward me.

I switched to my handgun, firing at the beasts as I stepped back. They were quick, dodging my bullets with unnatural reflexes. One pounced, fangs bared—I dived low, ramming my shotgun into its mouth and pulling the trigger. It disintegrated into black mist.

The second beast leaped at me. Expecting it to dodge my first shot, I aimed off-center, anticipating its movement. It twisted, trying to evade—exactly what I wanted. My handgun fired. A direct hit.

The shadow beast dissolved.

Zasz was already moving, charging toward me.

I didn’t hesitate. “Cannon Beam!”

My pistol flared with a surge of magic, unleashing a powerful blast. The beam cut through the battlefield, disintegrating debris in its path. Zasz barely avoided it, his teleport taking him to one of the rocks nearby. His constant teleportation halted, he looked around in stress.

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‘I got you now.’

He was running out of places to move.

I let him think I was attacking him, but my real goal was different—I had been destroying the shadows. With every shattered boulder, every broken object, I had been eliminating his teleportation zones.

Now, only two remained.

Mine and Aeon’s. I had to gamble his next destination, I was his target and he knows he don’t have more shadows to use so he had to finish this quickly.

As I charged toward him getting in range of my shotgun, his uneasiness turned to confidence. He teleported—straight into my shadow.

Exactly as I anticipated.

I twisted, canceling my fake punch and swinging upward instead. My shotgun connected with his jaw. The buckshot ripped through him, shattering his chin and sending him flying. Blood spattered across the dirt as he crashed onto his back, choking on the damage.

His eyes widened, struggling to comprehend how I had outmaneuvered him.

I stood over him, my gun aimed at his forehead. “You were never my target,” I said coldly. “I was destroying the objects around us. Reducing the number of places you could teleport to. In the end, you only had two choices—my shadow or Aeon’s your arrogance was your downfall. And I was waiting for you.”

He gasped for breath, realization dawning in his eyes. He was finished.

"Please," he croaked, blood pooling in his mouth. "Mercy..."

I didn't hesitate.

I knew his kind—Zasz would never truly surrender. The moment he could stand again, he’d come for me with some excuse, some twisted justification for getting rid of me.

So, I pulled the trigger.

Shot after shot.

His body jerked violently with each impact, riddled with holes.

Then, silence.

Zasz was dead.

I stood over him, my expression unreadable. If he had been just another nobody, the guild wouldn't care. But he wasn’t. He was an asset—a tax collector, a strongman, the so-called protector of this town. He wielded fear like a weapon, squeezing the weak dry while answering only to the guild. His death wouldn't go unnoticed. It would bring me a mountain of trouble.

I outranked him, yet I wasn't considered as valuable. Because I wasn’t the guild’s ideal kind of asset. I wasn’t someone they could count on to keep their profits flowing.

For what? Aeon?

The thought was bitter. It was foolish. He had no magic. No real worth in a world like this. My plans for him were a waste of time.

So why did I feel relieved?

Why am I glad I had met him?

I shoved those thoughts aside. I had been alone in this world for too long. I didn’t need companionship. I couldn’t afford it.

Aeon

Pain throbbed through my body as I forced my eyes open. The last thing I remembered was Zasz’s attack coming down—then nothing.

Now, Artou stood over his corpse, still as a statue.

I coughed, pushing myself onto my elbows. “I thought you were going to let him kill me,” I said, my voice laced with anger. I had never relied on anyone before—I had always been the one to get the job done. But now? Now, I had let my excitement for a fight cloud my judgment, and it had nearly cost me my life.

Artou turned to me, his face unreadable.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he said quietly. “You need to find your own path.”

I frowned. “What are you talking about? Shouldn’t we get moving before more of them show up?”

I didn’t understand what happened after killing someone here. The ones I had fought before had never actually died—not that I knew of, at least. Would we be thrown in prison? Or would it go unpunished since Zasz was an asshole anyway?

Before he could answer, Roblard’s voice called from across the wreckage of his house. “You two, come here.”

We turned to see the inventor stepping over debris, his face serious. “Didn’t expect you to actually kill him,” he admitted. “But… I won’t lie. He deserved it.”

Roblard exhaled, glancing between us. “The guild will come for you,” he warned. “But you won’t owe me for the burner. If you ever need anything, I’m here.” He smirked. “I’m just glad to see my weapon in the right hands.”

Artou barely reacted. Wordlessly, he turned and walked back toward the forest. His steps were heavy. Weighed down by something I couldn’t quite understand.

I followed, rubbing my aching jaw. “So, uh… what now?”

He didn’t answer.

And for the first time, I wondered—what had Artou gone through during his time in this world?

I had always felt he was planning something for me, guiding me toward a purpose only he understood. But the moment he realized I had no magic, everything about him changed. The certainty in his eyes wavered, his confidence cracked. It was as if whatever grand design he had envisioned for me had crumbled in an instant.

What had he been expecting?

What had he seen in me before that moment—before he knew the truth?