Turbulence at the Flip Park (4)

The MP5’s trigger was pulled.

A crimson flame erupted from the muzzle.

One second. Two. Three.

9mm Parabellum rounds fired at roughly 13 per second—30 bullets, all striking Giant Arm dead-on.

Yet the rounds meant to tear through muscle and shatter bone merely scraped dozens of shallow marks across its impossibly tough hide.

Clatter.

Spent casings fell lifelessly to the ground.

Giant Arm dropped its guard and resumed walking toward the black-clad SOB agent.

“Not enough firepower… Should’ve brought a rifle.”

Sweat beaded on the agent’s forehead as the unharmed aberration advanced.

Do I go down fighting?

He drew his tactical knife—but quickly sheathed it.

If bullets couldn’t stop it, a blade was suicide.

He turned to flee. Dying for pride wasn’t bravery—it was waste.

But just as he moved—

A flash of steel split the air behind Giant Arm.

The aberration froze mid-step.

Then, slowly, a vivid red line appeared—running from crown to groin.

At the same moment a girl’s voice echoed:
“Gotcha.”

With no further movement, the monster’s body lost cohesion.

Like a pig bisected by an automated slaughterhouse blade, it cleanly split in two—toppling left and right with a wet thud.

As the blood mist faded, a petite figure stood where the monster had been.

She carried a black wakizashi nearly her own height, its blade wreathed in ominous black vapor. Pink cat ears twitched atop her head. She wore a strange black miko outfit, long jet-black hair flowing down to her waist, swaying gently in the wind.

Her face was doll-like—perfect, emotionless—except for her violet eyes, flickering with faint red light.

White bandages wrapped her shoulders. Black geta sandals clicked against the pavement.

The contrast between her small frame and the massive sword was jarring—yet somehow natural.

In that instant, the aberration’s corpse fully collapsed.

The agent swallowed hard.

Is this… the legendary “Headhunter Girl”?

She ignored him, stepping lightly to the severed remains, crouching to retrieve a pulsing red stone—the aberration’s mana crystal.

She sniffed it once, expression unchanged, then tucked it into her sleeve.

Then she approached the agent, tilting her head up with a sweet, innocent smile.

“Um… who are you?” he asked, voice trembling.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached up and gently patted his head.

Immediately, his body grew heavy. His vision blurred. Consciousness slipped away.

“Hey! What did you—?!”

Still smiling, she hummed softly.

“You saw something you shouldn’t have. So… please die.”

Her voice was soft, gentle—yet colder than ice.

The agent crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

She stepped forward, drew her sword, and placed the tip over his heart.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.”

One small hand stroked his cheek—then, in one motion, she decapitated him.

Blood sprayed, splattering half her face. She extended her tongue, licking the crimson off her lips—savoring it.

Then she turned and walked away, leaving only a headless corpse and a bloodied blade behind.

****

SOB Headquarters.

“Director, it’s been a week! We’re going mad—let us investigate!”

A man knelt on the office floor, face twisted with grief and fury.

The old director sat behind his desk, calmly puffing a pipe—unmoved.

“Director!”

When ignored, the man raised his voice.

The director extinguished his pipe, finally looking up.

“Do you really think you could do anything?”

The man fell silent.

“You forget,” the director said, “the ‘Headhunter Girl’ isn’t something ordinary men can fight. You’d just die.”

The man clenched his fists, bowing his head in helpless rage.

“Are we… just going to let her run wild?”

The director sighed. “For now, yes. When she appears again… we’ll act.”

Silence.

The director lit his pipe again. Smoke filled the room.

The door opened.

A girl entered.

Black miko robes. A black wakizashi at her waist. Doll-like beauty—except for the pink cat ears replacing human ones.

She stopped before the director. Calmly.

“I’ve captured the ‘Headhunter Girl.’”

The director’s head snapped up—shock flooding his face.

The girl smiled.

“Director… this was the Headhunter Girl. A puppet. A fake.”

The director could not speak.

“I am the real one.”

With that, she drew her blade—and in one stroke, severed the director’s head.

Blood geysered, staining the floor.

She sheathed her sword, turned, and walked out—leaving behind a corpse and a cruel, sadistic smile.

“Hey. Know where I can find some strong aberrations? Preferably Class-A.”

Nikkou leaned over a crouching SOB agent.

Though he’d just survived a near-death encounter, he now felt like he’d stumbled into something far more terrifying. This girl—she was worse than any monster.

“Talk, bro. Pissed yourself already?” Nikkou teased.

“Big Sis means this sector is under our Fourth Ring’s jurisdiction. You should go support your teammates elsewhere. We’ve got this.”

Only when Tsukishake appeared did the agent finally relax slightly.

“Thank you for the backup. We leave this area in your hands, magical girls.”

“…Ugh. So boring.”

Nikkou yawned as the agent retreated.

“If I’d known it was just C-rank trash, I wouldn’t have come.”

Annoyed, she kicked the fallen aberration’s corpse. It flew into the air—before dissolving into magic particles mid-fall.

“Sis, A-rank crystals matter, but our main mission is clearing aberrations and protecting civilians.”

“Yeah, yeah. Blah blah. I know.” Nikkou waved her off.

Then, suddenly, her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Wait—this is Fifth Ring territory, right? That blue dwarf must be around. Her turf and all.”

“Well, technically, Senior Tidal isn’t assigned to Fifth Ring… But she’d probably show up anyway,” Tsukishake admitted.

“Why do you want to find her?”

“To avenge her, obviously!” Nikkou growled.

“She broke my sword and made me look stupid in front of everyone! I’ll never forgive her!”

“That time… wasn’t you just throwing a tantrum and rolling on the ground?”

Tsukishake thought it—but wisely kept quiet to preserve her sister’s dignity.

“But… we’re still way outmatched.”

“Last time was last time. Now? I might actually beat that shortstack.” Nikkou grinned.

“—Ah. Senior’s here.”

“What?!”

Nikkou immediately ducked under a plastic picnic table.

Seconds later—realizing she’d been tricked—she flipped the table over and stood up, furious.

“You lied to me?! I’ll teach you a lesson!”

She stomped toward Tsukishake, kicking her shins repeatedly.

(Only because she couldn’t reach higher.)

“Sis. Look over there. There’s… an A-rank.”

Ignoring her sister’s antics, Tsukishake pointed toward the giant Ferris wheel—her usually calm voice trembling slightly.

“Huh? Where?!”

Following her finger, Nikkou clearly saw it:

A thick, dark brown tentacle—like an octopus’s arm—slowly climbing the park’s landmark: a 180-meter-tall Ferris wheel.

Suction cups dotted its surface. As it contracted, the steel framework groaned, metal joints straining, bolts popping. The entire structure creaked—like a dying beast’s final wail.

“…Heh. That size? Definitely Class-A.”

Nikkou’s black wakizashi ignited crimson—glowing like a white-hot iron.

“Let’s go!”

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

After piercing the final aberration with her spear, Violet Lightning turned to the colossal Ferris wheel.

“Whoa. What even is that thing?”

Frosttail stared in shock as the wheel buckled, twisted, then collapsed entirely.

None of the four active Second Ring members—including herself—had experience fighting giant aberrations. Anxiety gnawed at her.

The thought of channeling her magic into that grotesque meat mass… made her nauseous.

Mieni grimaced, clearly unwilling.

“Uh… am I the only one who finds this weird?”

Seeing Frosttail and Violet Lightning silent, Yubin muttered.

“By the way,” Violet Lightning asked.

“Isn’t Fifth Ring security being handled by Second Ring right now? So… that loudmouth dwarf, her reasonable little sister, and that biker in black leather—they’re all here too, right?”

“They’d have no reason not to be,” Frosttail replied. She holstered her one-handed sword into her soul gem and floated into the air.

“Alright. Let’s move.”

After announcing the launch, she issued the operation directive to her three comrades.

“Same as always. Four words: do your best.”

The city’s survival, others’ lives—important, yes. But if you don’t survive… none of it matters.

“Everyone—don’t die. Got it?”

“Roger!”
“Copy!”
“ZZZZZ…”