"Did you do it, did you nail it?"
Disregarding Dylan's incoherent babbling from a distance, Lennok persisted in his movements.
It appeared that his daring attempt to challenge the adaptability of a cold-blooded creature to a sudden shift in temperature had proved fortuitously fruitful, but only for a fleeting moment.
If Croken could have been defeated solely by this means, he would not have withstood the initial, blazing explosion.
Lennok’s reserves of mana had dwindled perilously low, and he had a mere two weapons in his hands.
There was no alternative but to flee.
Lennok sensed that the brief window of opportunity granted to him would not last long.
True to his intuition, shortly thereafter, the frozen form of Croken began to quiver faintly, and tiny cracks ruptured through the layer of ice encasing his scales.
This bore witness to Croken's incomparable fortitude and persistence, demonstrating his ability to break free from the icy confinement with remarkable speed.
As Croken wriggled and writhed to shake off the remnants of his icy prison, Lennok honed his focus. He knew that he must make the most of the time granted to him before Croken regained his senses.
In a moment of desperation, Lennok flailed about wildly, his head rolling to and fro, until he retrieved the gun that had been in his possession since his initial escape from the factory. He summoned the dwindling reserves of his mana and, in doing so, was overcome by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion, unlike anything he had experienced before.
Nonetheless, victory was imperative. Despite the pervasive sense of emptiness that pervaded his entire being, Lennok gritted his teeth and channeled his mana. Through his unwavering determination and intense concentration, an ethereal form materialized within him, fueled by his hope and desire. This imaginary construct seized the mana and manifested itself beyond the bounds of reality.
In an instant, Lennok's will and thoughts gave birth to the common magic, which was specifically attuned to aiding long-range weapons.
[Aiming Correction]
[Trajectory Guidance]
[Piercing Enhancement]
Lennok summoned forth the magical aid that he had relied on countless times before when playing the role of the Magic Musketeer in WORLD ver2.0. It materialized on the barrel of his firearm, as if he had returned to a time when he could indulge in the game without a care in the world.
He instinctively called forth one assisting spell after another, just as he had done during those happy times.
Although the aging weapon glimmered with a blue hue, unable to completely withstand the inscribed mana, Lennok paid it no mind as he firmly squeezed the trigger.
[Projectile Acceleration]
BANG!!
With a blinding flash, the gun barrel erupted in a cacophony of shattering sounds. The weapon proved incapable of withstanding the violent fluctuations of the mana it contained.
Lennok had employed four different assisting spells to fire a solitary bullet, enhancing its speed, accuracy, firepower, and piercing force. He had aimed it with utmost precision at the exact trajectory that would pierce Croken's eyeballs and brain.
Lennok was well aware that, even if he were to perish and be reborn in this encounter, he would be unable to overcome Croken. He was a monster that had emerged unscathed from an explosion that had leveled the entire factory.
To contend with such a foe, a surprise attack aimed at his weak points was the only viable strategy. If Lennok could forcibly amplify a large-scale spell's potency, he might have a chance. However, he had exhausted most of his mana in the previous battles, leaving him with meager reserves.
During the brief window when he could obstruct Croken's field of vision, Lennok unleashed the sharpest attack he could muster with the limited mana at his disposal. Ironically, the combo magic that sprang to his mind was a support-type spell that he had frequently utilized while playing as the Magic Musketeer in WORLD ver2.0. Although these spells were relatively feeble in potency and efficiency, they consumed very little mana.
It was the most potent and efficient move that Lennok could devise in this dire situation. He had spent a considerable amount of time pondering and preparing for this moment, but the outcome was instantaneous.
As Croken's vertically oriented pupils writhed and exposed themselves, Lennok's bullet, empowered by his deft timing of the assisting spells, struck true, piercing the frozen iris directly. Croken's visage twisted violently backward with a resounding thud. Simultaneously, the effect of the [Frost Soul], which had ensnared Croken’s entire body, was utterly shattered.
….
Dylan dashed forward with his sword tightly clenched, while Lennok tightly grasped the remnants of his shattered gun. The pair gazed fixedly, hardly daring to breathe.
A hush fell over them, as oppressive as a mountain's weight.
Croken lowered his head, breaking the silence at last, "Well, gotta say, ya tried your best."
"…….."
"Too bad ya had to go up against me though," Croken added with a sly smile.
"…You monster."
All the results were implicit in Lennok’s despondent murmur. His hopes of executing his dream plan, of flipping four spells and firing in a single chance, had been snuffed out between Croken's eyelids.
Croken had employed only the muscles of his eyelids to catch Lennok's bullet – an unreal outcome beyond human comprehension, but Lennok's rational mind confirmed its veracity.
"Hahaha!! You're not wrong. I don't consider myself a normal human either," Croken guffawed heartily. He slowly opened his eyes, allowing the bullet he had caught to roll down its eyelid.
"Although, I gotta admit, it stings a little," Croken chuckled, mucus dripping from his vertical pupils.
Lennok trembled with fear, but he drew the laser cutter he had brought with him.
"I can't just let you off scot-free without some pain…"
Kwaaaang!!
"No do-overs this time, folks," Croken declared, his right arm sweeping forth and unleashing a titanic shockwave that engulfed Lennok.
The sound was deafening, and the sheer force of the impact defied the laws of physics. Lennok's frail body was utterly powerless to respond and would have been pulverized in an instant.
Am I going to die? This was the only thought that raced through Lennok's mind as he toppled face-first to the ground.
Yet, to his surprise, he was still conscious, and his limbs moved with no impediment. Apart from his shattered shield, he had emerged unscathed.
Confused but relieved, Lennok raised his head, only to be confronted by a sight that left him agape. A figure clad in black metal armor, with a black iron mask covering her face, had appeared, single-handedly withstanding Croken's assault.
The woman had short black hair, and her helmet and suit were adorned with two flashing green pupils. In her left hand, she held an elongated machine that emitted a vibrant green wave, which sluggishly repelled Croken's attack.
At this sight, Croken bared its teeth in a sinister grin.
"Dang, I really dragged it out for too long. Are the government's hounds gonna show up now?"
"Croken Asilus, you have crossed the line."
A cold voice flowed from behind the mask.
"You really thought you could blow up the entire factory and get away with it?"
"…"
“I thought the pandemonium wouldn't move for a while. What is the purpose of making District 42 a mess?”
"That's not fair, Evelyn. I didn't wreck the factory, those two guys did."
While Croken pointed to Dylan and Lennok, she only responded with a snicker.
"Those freaks in the creepy masks who were about to lose it – did they do it? Don't try to make up some nonsense story."
"…"
To be fair, such thinking is not entirely unfounded. It seems more probable that a criminal mastermind like Croken was responsible for the destruction of the factory, rather than witnessing it detonate due to his inability to halt Lennok's progress.
Croken nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, showing no real enthusiasm for the response.
"Kekkeuk… Believe what you want, I'm done here."
"Are you running away?"
"I never signed up for a fight with the government agents. No need to take unnecessary risks…"
Croken gradually retracted the arm that remained ensnared in the green wave and pivoted without a second thought. This combative monster had opted to evade combat rather than engage in a direct confrontation.
Evelyn possessed the same caliber of strength as Croken and could make him apprehensive about facing her head-on. However, instead of impeding his escape, she chose to watch him vanish behind the wreckage.
Letting out a faint sigh, she slowly pivoted and made her way toward Lennok, who lay sprawled on the unforgiving asphalt.
"Thanks for saving me, by the way," Lennok expressed his gratitude, his limbs splayed out as he spoke.
Regardless of the circumstances, it was true that Lennok's life had been in her hands, and he had escaped with his life. It seemed that unfortunate and fortunate events had become indistinguishable, and there was never a day without spilled blood.
With a weary expression on her countenance, Evelyn brushed her hair back and extended her hand toward Lennok. "Can you stand up?"
Lennok declined her offer and struggled to rise to his feet on his own.
As soon as Lennok caught sight of her lustrous hair, composed gaze, and heard her voice, he immediately recalled who she was. It was the vegetable vendor he had encountered at the marketplace, the woman clad in a flight jacket and murmuring indecipherable phrases.
Their encounter had been fleeting, but Lennok's prodigious memory enabled him to remember every aspect of her. He had regarded her as a remarkable individual, but he never fathomed that she was an elite serving the government. Her claims of amassing wealth were presumably not an exaggeration.
"Hmm?" Evelyn scrutinized Lennok up and down with her glimmering emerald eyes. "You look kinda familiar. Have we met before or something?"
"I don’t think so," Lennok replied, perspiring profusely as he averted his gaze. He had altered his face using magic and donned an odd mask while following Dylan. It was perplexing that Evelyn recognized him. However, she gazed at Lennok's mask as though she could see through it, then nodded.
"Well, maybe it was someone else then. The magic patterns don't match up."
Had modifying the magic energy patterns slightly each time he employed it been helpful? Lennok never imagined that the lesson from their first encounter would prove valuable during their second reunion. Human affairs were truly unpredictable.
As soon as Evelyn concluded that Lennok was a stranger to her, she lost interest and shifted her gaze away.
"I gotta act like I'm following that old guy, so you can go your own way."
"Aren't you gonna catch him or something?" Lennok queried in a courteous tone.
Evelyn shook her head in response to Lennok's inquiry. "Ha! Like I've got the power or resources for that. You have any idea how much cash Pandemonium thrown at the cops to keep them in their pockets? They wouldn't even arrest that crocodile if he robbed a bank in broad daylight."
As she expounded in an unadorned manner, it appeared that the Vulcan law enforcement agency was heavily corrupt. Lennok nodded placidly.
"Be careful if you're dealing with those guys. No one's gonna come to your rescue, even if you're at death's door."
She proffered Lennok some advice before vanishing in the direction that Croken had traversed, her voice calm until the very end.
At last, Dylan approached Lennok and tapped him on the shoulder, breaking the silence between them.
"Hey, wizard, you got pretty lucky there."
"…"
Lennok turned to look at Dylan with a cold gaze. Wasn't it Dylan's delay that caused Croken to appear, resulting in their current predicament?
"You gotta give up a big chunk of the payment this time around."
If Dylan refused, Lennok may have considered freezing his lower body and leaving him stranded. However, Dylan quickly agreed and nodded his head.
"Alright, alright. You saved my life, so I'll give you everything except ten mil. You can have the forty mil."
…
Lennok couldn't help but feel uneasy, as if he had suffered a loss, even though he had received the money. Dylan, on the other hand, seemed to be in high spirits, humming a tune.
"Phew, that was way too close. Who would've thought Charlotte would hire that old dude? He's notorious for locking himself up and drinking all day. Wonder what got into him."
Lennok remained silent, taking out another cigarette from his pocket.
"You're smoking again? Damn, you really can't live without those things," Dylan remarked.
"Shut up."
Fighting Croken had taken a heavy toll on Lennok both mentally and physically, and he knew he would suffer from side effects for at least a week. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, even for a moment, until he got home safely. To help him relax and stay focused, he reached for another cigarette and took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs.
"Hey, can I bum one off you? I'm getting antsy just watching you smoke."
Lennok's expression made Dylan feel more like a servant than a partner, but Lennok still took out his last cigarette and handed it over. He knew that what he gained from this job was worth more than 70,000 cells, so he was content.
The two sat in silence on the asphalt, looking like they had been through a war. The evening sun slowly cast its warm glow on the ruins of the factory.
"…This stuff is good, man," Dylan finally spoke up, taking a drag from the cigarette.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
