Maybe calling for help after leaving is the best solution?
But if that’s the case, how is it different from before?
Wouldn’t she just have to run away again?
Would she lose someone precious to her again because of her inability?
In front, the man with the dog head seemed to have sensed something. He got into a stance, raising the sword in his hand and standing straight with a bow stance.
For the first time, Fushimi Roku sensed killing intent from Minamoto Tamako.
The aura was faint but obvious, like a drop of oil floating on the water.
Fushimi Roku’s gaze landed on Minamoto Tamako’s head, the criminal index was still 1%... For some reason, his body reacted instinctively, just like when Minamoto Tamako asked him to investigate Instructor Sakurai together, and he inexplicably chose not to refuse.
There was something about this person that not only attracted but also terrified him.
Something’s not right...
She wasn’t before...
Is it because she didn’t recognize me?
Would she usually look at a criminal ?
What exactly did Kazama Tatsuya teach her?
The two stood at opposite ends of the corridor, the murderous atmosphere gradually spreading, overflowing into the storeroom, causing Fujiwara Homare to involuntarily hold his breath.
The broadcast sounded again: "More than ten seconds of silence will be considered as acquiescence to leave."
Minamoto Tamako asked, "Can I take my friend with me?"
"Sorry, the price of a ticket off the island is 60 points, and your current balance is not sufficient to purchase a second ticket."
"Then there’s nothing left to say," Minamoto Tamako held the gun with her shoulder, her eyes aligning with the sight, "I refuse."
A piercing electric noise sounded, the bet ended there, the broadcast switched back to a cold electronic voice, routinely notifying other participants to go to the Seven Sins Temple to participate in the trial to compete for points — for the two people in the corridor, the broadcast was just an interlude.
Fujiwara Homare pressed his face against the crack of the door, peering back and forth at the two with Shirakawa Miki’s head against his.
Is the man with the dog head really Mr. Fu Jian? From his perspective, there’s a 90% chance it is Mr. Fu Jian... but Minamoto Tamako says it isn’t, and she, being Mr. Fu Jian’s girlfriend, has more authority to speak, so for now the identity of the dog-headed man is in question.
Fujiwara Homare pouted, shifting his gaze to Minamoto Tamako. The latter’s Lion King pajamas were stained with a lot of blood, and her cotton slippers had turned red, though her cowlick was still swaying uneasily, her hand holding the gun remained steady.
Is she really going for it?
Choosing not to run away, but instead approaching him actively?
Fujiwara Homare picked up the rifle, wanting to lend a helping hand, thinking his angle wasn’t bad and was quite suitable for a sneak attack.
Only now, right before he was about to shoot, did Fujiwara Homare realize he needed to check the magazine, in case it was empty it would be troublesome.
He pressed the latch, the magazine popped out, and upon looking down...
As they say, when you’re about to die, who would care about the bullet count? Surely they’d just click the trigger to spray, emptying the magazine is normal.
Fujiwara Homare realized there was a big problem, as he didn’t have any bullets, he naturally couldn’t support Minamoto Tamako, and the battle plan was already a big failure!
He quickly pressed against the door crack, continuously winking at Minamoto Tamako, signaling her to run away quickly. Whether she truly didn’t see it or pretended not to, there was no reaction at all, she stood still, her eyes occasionally glancing at the body in the corridor corner.
This isn’t good, really not good!
Fujiwara Homare broke out in cold sweat, seeing an elderly woman decapitated in front of him was terrifying enough, he didn’t dare imagine how many nightmares he’d have when he got back — not vomiting then and there was already an extraordinary performance... if Minamoto Tamako got decapitated in front of him, it would absolutely become a lifelong psychological shadow!!
Is there anything around that could be used as a weapon?
Fujiwara Homare hastily swept his gaze around the storeroom.
There was a spoon on the shelf, maybe he could use it to dig the attacker’s eyes out... yeah right!! How could that possibly work!!
A tray perhaps? Swinging it out with a whoosh, like throwing a dart to decapitate the attacker... really?! If I were that skilled would I still be hiding in here?!!
Fujiwara Homare slammed his hands on the floor, a defeated look on his face, thinking could it really be irretrievable already? Could he only watch helplessly as Minamoto Tamako died? Seems like the road to immortality is destined to be lonely, he could only taste the bitterness of living alone...
He raised his head, pressing close to the door crack, not daring to watch yet unable to resist watching.
Just then, the man with the dog head retreated half a step.
Before Fujiwara Homare could react, the powder keg exploded, the tense situation broke balance, Minamoto Tamako pulled the trigger, the gun muzzle spitting fire with a rat-a-tat, the powerful recoil forcing her to adopt a bow stance just to barely control it.
In the instant before she fired, the man with the dog head suddenly crouched low, nearly sticking to the ground, leaping side to side, closing the distance in the blink of an eye — another five meters and Minamoto Tamako would be within lethal range!
Fujiwara Homare’s heart skipped a beat, he only saw a flash of a blade before him, fortunately no blood splattered, Minamoto Tamako decisively abandoned the rifle, rolling back and drawing a handgun from the believer’s body.
Without much aim, she raised the gun and fired.
Fujiwara Homare didn’t even see her draw the gun, her speed was astonishing, nearly matching the dog-headed man’s sword-swinging speed. Following that, the gunfire roared, Fujiwara Homare still didn’t see what happened, the dog-headed man’s forward rush came to an abrupt halt, the sword in his hand left an afterimage, and a few sparks flashed and disappeared.
Minamoto Tamako rose and retreated, widening the distance, maintaining a seven-meter range, and continuously firing bursts; at the other end of the corridor, the dog-headed man staggered, Fujiwara Homare even heard a muffled groan, the guy seemed to be shot, but his movements were still smooth, leaving Fujiwara Homare unsure if it was just his imagination.