The Unhittable Target

Crisp footsteps echoed from the corridor, piercing the silence of the night with remarkable clarity.

‘Could Gelan have returned?’

The balding man behind the door had evidently heard them too, as power began to gather in his hands, a sinister green light coalescing in his palm.

As the footsteps drew closer to the door, Julie’s heart pounded faster and faster.

‘Please, don’t let it be Gelan, don’t let it be Gelan…’

Even as Julie prayed, the footsteps halted at the doorway.

‘Don’t come in, don’t come in…’

The distinct sound of a key sliding into the lock echoed.

The door swung open.

The figure from the corridor stepped straight into the room, advancing towards Julie without a hint of caution.

A black vine shot forth from behind the doorframe, transforming into a blurry dark shadow in the dim room, striking out at him like a scorpion’s tail.

With the element of surprise and the poor lighting, the man was confident the attack would connect.

However, having set a ‘guaranteed hit’ flag (TL Note: A gaming term, ‘flag,’ referring to an event or condition that, once set, typically leads to a specific outcome, often ironically implying the opposite), it was almost inevitable that the unexpected would occur.

The figure who had entered made no dramatic dodge; with just a slight shift of their body, they narrowly evaded the assault, the steel-spear-like black vine grazing their clothes.

Just then, the moonlight peeked from behind the clouds, illuminating the figure’s profile. Who else could it be but Yodel?

The balding man froze, stunned. This person was certainly not Gelan. Where had he gotten a key, and why was he here? Had his plan to silence everyone been exposed?

“Did Gelan send you?”

Yodel remained silent, his gaze fixed on the balding man’s combat record.

0/1/0

‘Another living corpse, and an extraordinary living corpse at that. Just how far had the Everlasting Society’s experiments advanced?’

Seeing Yodel’s silence, the balding man lost his patience. He was here to eliminate witnesses, and no matter who the newcomer was, killing everyone would surely be the safest bet.

In his estimation, Yodel didn’t appear to be an extraordinary individual; he had only just barely evaded the vine. At best, he was a slightly stronger-than-average person. If the balding man applied himself more seriously, he was confident he could take him down.

‘The advantage is mine!’

The man ‘A-moved’ (TL Note: A gaming term, ‘A-move,’ referring to an aggressive advance or attack command) forward. One vine slammed the room’s door shut, while two more aimed for vital points, striking at Yodel in a cross pattern.

Yodel lightly pushed off with his right foot and leaped to the left. The two vines shot past, one above his right ear and the other beside his right waist, narrowly missing a fatal headshot.

But it wasn’t over. The balding man clenched his five fingers into a fist, and the two vines suddenly coiled and tightened, attempting to ensnare Yodel.

However, Yodel arched his back and executed a backflip. The upper vine grazed the tip of his nose, while the lower one brushed past the sole of his shoe, allowing him to slip through the gap between the two vines.

Each dodge remained incredibly narrow, yet none of the attacks landed.

Now it was the balding man’s turn to break out in a cold sweat.

Had it merely been his attacks being evaded, he wouldn’t have been so flustered. The real issue was that Yodel, with the physique of an ordinary person, was consistently dodging an extraordinary individual’s assaults.

In the eyes of the balding man, an extraordinary being himself, Yodel’s movements seemed as sluggish as an eighty-year-old’s. Yet, terrifyingly, with such speed, he was somehow emerging unscathed.

What followed grew even more bizarre. The balding man launched several more attacks, each aimed at a vital spot, any one of which would have been fatal. But each time, Yodel dodged by the narrowest of margins.

Whether it was a sneak attack, a direct assault, or an improvised feint, all seemed to have been anticipated, with not a single blow landing.

To the man, Yodel’s seemingly slow movements increasingly resembled a deliberate handicap, as if he were saying:

“Look, I’ve slowed myself down to this extent, and you still can’t hit me, you useless wretch.”

What infuriated the man even more was Yodel’s perpetually calm, poker-faced expression.

‘This was a fight to the death; how could he remain so composed?’

His composure shattered, the man’s attack rhythm faltered. The longer the battle dragged on, the more anxious he became. If too much time passed and alerted the police or the Church, his plan to silence them would be a complete failure.

In short, he was desperate.

“So fond of dodging, are we? Then try dodging this.”

The balding man, in a fit of rage, marshaled all his spiritual energy, making a desperate, all-or-nothing move. He summoned dozens of vines, sending them forth in a collective charge, sealing off every possible escape route.

Yet, before his attack could fully unleash, he sensed an extremely dangerous aura erupting behind him.

The curtains were violently flung open by a sudden gust of wind, and in that instant, the dark room was bathed in golden light.

Yelica floated in the air, her staff pointed through the room’s window directly at the balding man. Her pupils had transformed into a brilliant gold, and the overflowing holy light around her indicated she had been charging her power for some time.

Boom!

The balding man realized he had fallen into a trap. His opponents must have known he was hiding in the room all along, having laid their plans in advance and come prepared.

Now, all his power was focused on attacking Yodel, leaving him utterly defenseless.

‘The Hymn Inquisitor’s (TL Note: A title for a powerful holy warrior or magic-user in this context) charged heavy strike would absolutely blast this body into dust with a single blow.’

‘If that’s the case, then I’ll abandon defense and go for a one-for-one (TL Note: A gaming term referring to trading one’s life or resource for an opponent’s) trade!’

With a single thought, the vines swarmed forth.

Yelica immediately discerned his intent for a mutual annihilation and instantly ceased charging her attack:

“Holy Light: Slay the Demon!”

Both attacks launched simultaneously, each a guaranteed kill. It was a race to see who would strike first.

Yet, at this critical juncture, Yodel, surprisingly, stopped dodging.

He stood his ground, hands clasped behind his back, feet apart, calmly watching the vines surge towards him, as if the impending attack weren’t directed at him at all.

In the blink of an eye, the black vines reached Yodel, just as Yelica’s holy light slammed into the man.

Golden light erupted from the room’s window, illuminating the entire street as if it were broad daylight. The dazzling brilliance made it impossible to discern anything within the room.

Once the holy light subsided, Yelica saw Yodel still standing in the same spot, eyes closed in repose. The black vines had pressed against his eyelids, a mere fraction of an inch from piercing his brain.

“Just a little more, just a tiny bit further,” the man, now reduced to only a head, muttered, his eyes filled with bitter unwillingness. He desperately tried to muster his remaining strength, attempting to control the vines.

However, his severely damaged body could no longer obey him.

What was even more infuriating was that Yodel, at this point, needed only to take a single step back to be completely safe, yet he remained utterly motionless. This allowed the man to cling to a sliver of hope for mutual destruction, but even with all his might, he still couldn’t reach Yodel.

Just like his previous numerous attacks, this final strike came tantalizingly close to hitting, yet it would forever fall short of its target.

Even though his body had been transformed into a living corpse, it could not survive such grievous injuries. The man’s head quickly lost all signs of life.

Yelica leaped in through the window and, for good measure, cast a Holy Fire spell on the head. She then retrieved several strips of cloth inscribed with scriptures, lit them, and tossed them onto the ashes that had once been the man’s body. The golden holy fire incinerated all remaining traces, preventing any resurrection and purifying the contamination.

See? That’s what you call professionalism.

“That was incredible. Attacks of that speed are even challenging for me to handle, yet you dodged them with such ease.”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Yodel said, opening his eyes.

“Very cool. Especially that moment at the end, when you were so certain his attack couldn’t reach you, confidently closing your eyes to wait. It had the aura of a chosen one.” Yelica didn’t hold back her praise.

“Oh, that? Actually, I had intended to keep my eyes open and watch the vines stop right in front of me…”

“But just as I was widening my eyes, your holy light blasted in… Now I’m seeing double when I look at you…”