Episode 3 — Ninja Reality Shock 2

The kind of mech unit normally used only in official matches — though smaller models occasionally showed up on regular servers too.

But whatever that thing was, its movement had a fluidity no machine should have been capable of.

"...Whatever it is, it's a player. This just got annoying."

The Professor's expression hardened as he watched the black shape sweep past, slitting the throats of two Black Tiger Alliance users in an instant. Determined to deal with it before things got any worse, he swung his scope toward the figure.

Just as he was certain the heavy report of his large-caliber round had found its mark on the fast-moving figure—

A sharp metallic ring rang out as the bullet was sliced clean in two by a razor-edged wakizashi, and the stealthily moving figure faltered — only for a moment.

"A... ninja?"

"...?!"

What his scope revealed was, unmistakably, a female user in ninja garb, wielding a wakizashi in each hand.

Worst Field was, without question, an SF-based military shooter VR game. Naturally, no such class or equipment existed within the game. Even if someone had tried to build one, producing that kind of movement and performance should have been impossible.

He suddenly felt her gaze — the one who'd just sliced his bullet in half — lock onto exactly where he was.

"Damn it."

Realizing his position had been given away by that alone, the Professor grabbed his rifle and moved to relocate immediately, unaware that the female ninja, having spotted him from a distance, was already melting into her own shadow.

Just as he was packing away his gun and starting to rise, he felt something sharp prick the back of his neck.

"...Don't move."

"...!"

The distance between the mine facility where she'd been and this spot was a full 300 meters. That she'd closed that gap in an instant—

"You look like you took a wrong turn into the wrong game."

"Not something I want to hear from a pervert hiding behind a helmet."

Confident in her victory, she moved to strip off his helmet the moment she finished speaking. Having subdued the renowned freelance mercenary herself, this would finally get the Roaring Dragon Society's higher-ups to notice her.

"Stay still. I'm taking the helmet off now—"

Just then, a faint, dull sound of something dropping reached her ears. She flinched, glancing down toward the Professor's feet—

"Kuh—?!"

Using the split second she'd been blinded by the flashbang, he swept her legs out from under her.

"Ugh!"

Since her footing had been on an unstable branch to begin with, she nearly toppled off, catching herself at the last second with her arm and swinging her wakizashi in a desperate arc toward where his leg should have been. But there was no sensation of cutting through anything — only the faint sound of someone landing on the ground reaching her ears.

He'd already fled to the ground below.

"Not letting you go!"

Shaking her head hard to clear the flashbang's effects, her eyes tracked his trail as he fled across the ground—

"What?!" "Heh."

The Professor had already drawn his pistol and was pulling the trigger, aimed straight at her!

"Tch!"

"—!"

The instant the shot rang out, she kicked off a tree trunk, launching herself through the air like a feather — and landed with pinpoint precision right behind the Professor.

"Guh—?!"

"Don't move!"

She seized his gun-holding arm from behind, wrenching it down, and pressed her wakizashi to the back of his neck. Only then did the Professor finally settle down.

"Never expected the Roaring Dragon Society to have such a strange kind of user."

"You're one to talk, being strange yourself... anyway, take off that weird helmet."

"...That's a problem."

"Then I'll just cut it off along with your head."

This wasn't a warning this time. She pressed steadily into the back of his neck until blood beaded up.

"Ngh."

"Now, off with it! Quickly!"

"Argh—?!"

"Close-quarters combat isn't really my thing, but I don't have much choice!"

He stomped his heel down onto the top of her foot, catching her off guard and buying himself an opening. He broke free and immediately spun to fire behind him.

"Hm?!"

He was fairly confident in his quick-draw speed — but she sank into her own shadow, disappearing as if swallowed by it. Sensing instinctively that this was the technique that let her close hundreds of meters in an instant, the Professor swung a punch behind him.

"Kuh!"

"So that's how it is."

Just as he'd expected, she'd been about to swing her blade and had to snap her guard up to block instead.

A technique that could close considerable distance in an instant — but only through shadow-to-shadow movement, it seemed. That was the principle behind it.

"Tch! You figured out my technique already?!"

"Anyone who thinks the same trick will work twice on a pro like me is an amateur."

"How insolent!"

She sheathed the wakizashi in her hand behind her waist, formed some kind of hand seal with her fingers, and pulled out a bundle of throwing stars from her chest.

"Hey now. Don't tell me you're planning on not using a gun at all—"

"That's right. No firearms for me. Got a problem with that?"

"........."

Sensing a hint of mockery from him, her eyes sharpened.

"Laugh all you want — after you've survived this!"

"What?"

She flung the six throwing stars in her hand outward, and in an instant they multiplied into twelve, converging on him like buckshot!

"?!"

"Cloud Mist Shuriken!"

There was no trajectory in that spread that looked survivable. No time to distinguish real from decoy.

"Damn it!"

All he could do was twist his body to minimize the hits. Fortunately, just as he'd guessed, the original six visible ones turned out to be the real ones — one buried itself in his thigh, another lodged in his helmet, and the rest merely grazed him.

"Kuh—!"

"Tch! Not bad!"

Staggering, the Professor gritted his teeth and raised his pistol again. She, in turn, drew twelve more throwing stars, six in each hand, and squared off against him again.

Right at that moment—

[Professor. We're done on our end. Loading up the cargo and pulling out now — wrap it up and pull out yourself.]

"...!"

Her eyebrows furrowed too, apparently having received the same kind of message from her side.

"Tch!"

Should she have avoided getting too fixated on the Professor in front of her and helped the other members instead? Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth, she turned and started running.

The message meant her opponent's side had likely just finished loading their cargo and set off too. If she could just get their vehicle in sight, her teleportation skill would let her latch onto it in an instant.

"Ah—!"

The pain flaring in her thigh forced her to a stop.

A throwing star lodged deep in one thigh, cuts from throwing stars across both arms, and even her prized visor now had a throwing star embedded in it — the flickering light of her eye display made it obvious it was broken.

Whatever else he was, he was hired muscle who'd still bother interfering with her even at this point?

Unable to comprehend it, her expression twisted, and she flung another throwing star at him.

"Foolish! Why do you keep coming at me?!"

She flinched, watching the Professor shoot down a single throwing star — one not accompanied by any ninjutsu — with his gun.

It became clear that using the Cloud Mist Shuriken from the very start had been the right call. If she'd conserved and thrown them one at a time to save resources, he would have intercepted every single one like that.

"Call it after-sales service, ninja girl."

"Hmph! Ridiculous!"

She threw another star, but this time he triggered a device at his belt, deploying a shield that deflected it away.

"Ngh!" "Heh... now then, what will you do? Turn your back on me again and—"

"If you're that eager to die, I'll gladly oblige."

He had no way of knowing that her wakizashi was plated with a special material designed specifically to cut through that very shield. And the Professor was still within her sight — meaning she could ambush him from behind through his shadow whenever she wanted.

Just as she was forming the seal for her surprise attack, the Professor suddenly dropped his gun to the ground and raised both hands.

"What?"

"...Sorry. Figured I'd stalled about as long as I could."

"...!"

"And..."

He spread his legs slightly apart, and something dropped with a soft thud. She glanced down instinctively to see what it was—

Another blinding flash went off, along with a sharp pain lancing through the top of her foot. By the time she'd gritted her teeth and shaken off the effect, he was already gone without a trace.

And—

"Persistent bastard, isn't he..."

Apparently meant to hinder her pursuit, the throwing star that had been lodged in his thigh was now buried in the top of her foot. He must have pulled it out and thrown it back in that split second.

"........."

Head down, gritting her teeth, she had to limp her way back to the mine facility. She lamented having to stand guard at some backwater outpost despite having this much skill — and the fact that she'd even failed to properly do that much left her thoroughly depressed.

"Ngh..."

The Professor's mood wasn't much better.

He'd barely made it back to his residence, but a grinding fury simmered in him — this kind of thing rarely happened to him after all his years in the business.

"Of all things, my helmet..."

In three years of activity in Worst Field, this was only the third time the Professor's helmet had taken damage. Two of those had come from the same person, which meant, effectively, this was only the second time overall.

"Professor...? What happened?!"

Cuticle, who'd just stepped into the parlor, startled badly and hurried over with a first-aid kit from the shelf.

"Damn it... there's a user with ninja skills on the Roaring Dragon Society's side."

"Huh? What are you even talking about?"

"I'm saying, ninja. Ninja. The kind that shows up in old movies."

"No way. This is Worst Field, remember? Military sci-fi genre."

Without a word, the Professor yanked the throwing star still lodged in his helmet free and handed it over.

"Look at this."

"No way... seriously?"

"Yeah."

After treating the wounds scattered across his body with the first-aid kit, the Professor accepted a new helmet from Cuticle and turned away. Fortunately, the voice changer was still functional, but the visual-assist feature was busted.

"Hah..."

Once he'd swapped helmets, he turned the damaged one over in his hands, examining it.

"I liked that design."

"Don't worry. I'll get it repaired."

"That costs money."

"Ha ha. Well, that's true."

Though they worked as a team, the relationship between the Professor and Cuticle was extremely dry — but that was because the Professor wanted it that way. Whenever he requested repairs or crafting from Cuticle, he always paid the proper rate.

"Think you could look into who made that throwing star?"

"Easy enough."

Despite his fondness for magical-girl cosplay, his skill placed him among the top five crafters in the game, and naturally, he was well-connected among the artisan community.

"Actually... I think I already know."

"That easy to tell?"

Cuticle set the throwing star down on the tea table and pointed to a small dolphin emblem etched into one side.

"I know this mark pretty well, actually."

—To be continued—