The instant dungeon (5)

A dry laugh slipped out before the arrow even left the bow.

Short. Bitter. Irritated.

The kind of laugh you give when you know you're about to get your ass kicked—but you're taking someone with you out of sheer pride.

Mana surged through my fingers with unnatural ease. Like a river fed by countless tributaries.

Hyeon-U's body… was different.

More flexible. Broader.

The mana channels were wide open.

Way less resistance than what I was used to. It was like the body itself wanted to use energy.

The arrow was weak. On purpose.

Minimal mana.

No killing intent.

She didn't dodge.

Didn't even blink.

Her small hand lifted slowly, catching the arrow mid-air like it was a twig.

Mana burst outward from the impact.

But she just stared at me. Head tilted.

"Was that supposed to be an attack?" she asked, her voice as flat as her expression.

"No," I said, spinning the bow in my fingers. "Just wanted to remind you that no matter how mascot-y you look, you're still the villain here."

"..."

"Or are you already used to being underestimated, little clover princess?"

She didn't reply.

But her eyes—big, dark, cold—flashed with something.

The two assassins moved again.

Even injured, they came like starved hounds.

I shifted position.

Fired three arrows in quick succession. The first two grazed their shoulders. The third embedded itself in one of their calves.

Doyun moved.

His sword spun like a windmill.

He wasn't a specialist, but it was enough.

While he kept one busy, I pinned down the other with constant fire. Each arrow faster than the last.

I had control.

More control than I ever had with a spear.

God, if only this skill would stay with me after this simulation...

But—

She was still standing there.

Watching.

Judging, like she was scoring our performance.

"Still waiting for dramatic timing?" I shot another arrow—this time at the ground near her foot. "Or just deciding how much blood's worth spilling today?"

She stepped forward.

And vanished.

I only realized where she went when one of my men—the tall one with a makeshift shield—was launched against the shelter wall.

The sound of impact.

Blood on concrete.

His head twisted at an impossible angle.

My stomach turned.

She stood in the center of the field now. Her hands still clean. Like she hadn't even touched human flesh.

But I'd seen it.

The tips of her fingers were sharp. Like living blades.

She didn't need weapons.

She was the weapon.

"Full alert!" I shouted. "Anyone who can't fight—fall back and protect the civilians!"

Doyun stepped back, eyes on her.

"She's… not normal," he muttered.

"Congratulations on reaching this conclusion,'' I muttered back, drawing my next arrow—this time with more mana.

The girl smiled faintly.

Not a real smile.

Something like it.

Distant. Programmed. Like she was mimicking the idea of emotion.

The clovers on her wrist pulsed once.

Green. Faint.

But I saw it.

I remembered—they acted like a limiter.

And if there was a limiter… there was a chance.

A tiny one.

And she clearly wasn't in the mood to play fair.

She moved.

Not a step—more like a flicker.

And just like that, Doyun's throat was gone.

He didn't even see it happen.

She wiped the blood off her arm with her fingers, like she'd dipped her hand in paint.

The other hero barely had time to react.

She ran him through.

With one hand.

Straight through his chest, like she was skewering meat.

The sound was… louder than it should've been.

Both bodies hit the floor. One after the other.

And I...

I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay standing.

"They're not real. They're not real. They're not real…"

Repeating it made me nauseous.

But it kept my knees from buckling.

She turned to me.

Still no emotion.

Just that bored expression—like this was a school project she was already over.

The girl flexed her fingers again, wiping blood on her black pants.

And then, again… she came.

She was playing now.

Didn't make it easier.

My body moved on instinct.

One arrow. Then another.

She dodged them both with lazy, efficient steps.

The assassins were trying to flank me.

Luckily, they were fractured. Slower. Predictable.

I kept them at bay with short, rapid shots—no aim, just space control.

The ground was littered with debris, shattered beams, blood.

And bodies.

I used one as cover.

Yeah. I did.

I ducked behind one of the fallen for half a second—just long enough to trick the girl's angle and fire another arrow in the opposite direction.

A distraction.

It didn't hit. But she flinched.

Instinct. She had it, and trusted it.

Another opening. Another dodge.

She crossed the field in a single bound. The ground shattered beneath her landing.

I rolled out of the way.

"You know," I said, stalling for time, "this whole thing could've been solved with a conversation."

The girl blinked.

"You talk too much."

She rushed again. I retreated.

Vaulted over another corpse, sliding, using the body to trap her foot on a splintered beam.

She tripped.

And that was all I needed.

I aimed.

Fired.

She blocked it with her forearm. The impact burned through her sleeve.

"This is getting interesting."

I was cornered.

The assassins were still alive. Behind me.

The girl—between me and the exit.

A fallen pillar to my right. A mangled body to the left.

The bow hummed between my fingers, like it knew.

The vibration was deeper now. Almost like a whisper in my ear.

"Is this it? All the way?"

The arrow formed in a millisecond—a grotesque spike of condensed mana. Not elegant. Not clean.

It was a scream made into a weapon.

And the girl charged.

Again.

This time, to finish it.

Her silhouette smaller than mine, but her presence… overwhelming.

I aimed—

And fired.

I missed.

That's what she thought, too.

The arrow shot past her.

"You missed," she said, voice bored, annoyed I even tried.

Her hand punched through my abdomen before I could react.

Her hand was harder than steel.

I felt her fingers spread open inside me.

Then she pulled.

The pain nearly shut my brain down.

But I was still awake. Still alive.

Pain resistance: level who-the-fuck-cares. Thanks again, Luxxion.

"You…" I coughed blood. "…weren't the target."

Her eyes barely had time to widen.

The arrow exploded behind her.

Compressed mana, released in one massive blast.

The entire entryway was swallowed in blue flames.

The two assassins she'd been guarding like disposable pieces were vaporized in an instant.

And the fire reached us too.

It consumed everything.

When the smoke cleared—we were still alive.

Clothes burnt off, melted to flesh.

Her arm—charred to the bone.

Skin cracked. Blood streaming from the edges.

My vision shook. The bow still in my hands, drawn one last time.

She looked at my state.

And for the first time… her eyes showed something real.

Rage.

"You were… more troublesome than I expected."

"I… hear that… more than I'd like," I muttered.

She charged.

I drew one last arrow.

Aimed at our feet.

"Goodbye."

Another explosion.

The floor collapsed.

We fell.

Gravity swallowed us as the rubble came crashing down.

She didn't scream.

She leapt between falling debris.

Spinning, moving like she was made of solid smoke.

And then—

Her fingers, sharp as blades, slashed my neck.

My head spun.

And even then… I was thinking.

Still hearing.

Still seeing.

The sky—half-gray, half-blue—drifting away from me.

And with it, the cold voice of the system:

[Mission complete.]

[Congratulations. You have survived the Final Stage: Redemption.]

[Special condition met: Maximum Resistance in Event of Certain Death.]

[Additional reward pending evaluation.]

[Preparing return.]

…

I was good at playing long odds.

But sometimes… even I surprised myself with how far I could go.