The black bear swung its paw sideways, smashing a tree trunk into splinters where the tank had been standing a heartbeat ago.
He threw himself to the side and rolled, barely avoiding being crushed. Leaves and dust flew everywhere.
They only used simple moves, but their cooperation was solid.
The tank held the front, drawing the bear's attention.
The dagger user circled, cutting and retreating.
The girl in the back aimed carefully, sending out simple fire arrows that always hit a weak point or an exposed wound.
Oliver watched, quietly impressed.
"Their teamwork is pretty good," he muttered.
Ethan replied from the bag.
"They only know a few techniques, but they are using them properly. That already puts them above half the idiots outside."
He paused.
"Which is why," Ethan added, "stealing their kill will feel even better."
Oliver's mouth twitched. He stayed silent and kept watching.
The Black Stone Bear's breathing became heavier. Its movements, which had been wild and heavy, started to slow slightly.
Blood trickled from its legs and shoulders, dark against the rough fur.
But the three students were not in good shape either.
The tank's arms were bruised purple where mana had failed to fully block the impact.
His breathing was rough.
Every time he blocked a paw, his legs shook a little more.
The dagger boy's sleeve was torn, and a long scratch ran along his side, still bleeding.
His movements were not as quick as before. He had to grit his teeth every time he twisted his waist.
The girl's face was pale. Sweat dripped from her forehead.
Her mana was obviously being drained. The fire arrows she summoned were smaller now, their flames less bright.
"Just a bit more!" the tank shouted. "We almost have it!"
He charged in again.
The bear roared and lowered its head. Instead of swinging its paw, it suddenly rushed forward like a boulder rolling downhill.
The tank's eyes widened. He tried to brace, but the force was too much.
The bear's shoulder smashed into his chest.
He flew backward, crashed into a tree, and slid down, coughing violently.
"Ryan!" the girl cried out.
The dagger boy's expression changed. He rushed in without thinking, dagger raised.
"Idiot," Ethan muttered.
The bear whipped around faster than before. Its paw swung sideways, catching the dagger boy mid-step.
He managed to twist his body so he was not hit head-on, but he was still flung across the clearing, rolling through dirt and leaves.
The girl's spell faltered.
The half-formed fire arrow broke apart in her hand.
The Black Stone Bear turned slowly to face her.
Its eyes were bloodshot. Its breath steamed in the cool air.
Each step it took left deep impressions in the ground as it walked toward the only person still standing.
The girl bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Her hands trembled.
"Fire Ar-"
Before she could finish, the bear lunged.
Oliver's fingers tightened.
"This is bad," he said.
"Now," Ethan's voice snapped. "If you want a chance, this is it. "
Oliver took a deep breath.
His heart hammered, but his feet moved.
He slipped out from behind the tree, staying low.
While the bear focused on the girl, he circled along the other side of the clearing, using the fallen logs and bushes as cover.
His brain screamed that this was a terrible idea. His chest told him it was already too late to back out.
The Black Stone Bear raised its paw.
Mana began to gather on its claws, forming a faint stony glow. A Tier 2 beast's finishing blow.
The girl stared at it, her face turned pale.
Oliver's hand slipped into his pocket and closed around a small metal sphere. He had made it himself, a simple smoke device for "emergencies."
At the time, he had imagined using it to escape angry shopkeepers or his mother's slipper, not a Tier 2 Black Stone Bear.
"Now or never," he muttered.
He threw the sphere at the bear's head with all his strength.
It struck the side of its muzzle and exploded with a sharp pop.
Thick black smoke burst out and wrapped around the bear's face in an instant.
The beast roared in confusion, shaking its head and swiping at empty air.
"Hold your breath," Ethan shouted.
Oliver already had. He rushed through the edge of the smoke, teeth clenched. Up close, the bear looked even larger.
Its stone-like fur and sharp spikes rose in front of him like a moving wall, and the smell of blood and beast stench almost made him gag.
He ignored it and gathered every bit of strength in his legs, waist, and arm.
He pulled his fist back and punched the side of the bear's jaw with everything he had.
BAM!!! CRACK!! A clear crack rang out.
For one instant, Oliver's heart leaped.
Then a sharp pain shot through his hand and all the way up his arm.
He almost screamed.
He stumbled back and clutched his fist. His knuckles felt like they had shattered.
"Ah, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts," he thought. "Did I crack its skull or my hand?"
He risked a glance. His hand was already swelling.
The bear, on the other hand, had only a shallow crack in its stony fur. Most of the force had been absorbed by its armor-like hide.
Inside the bag, Ethan was stunned.
"You used your bare fist on a stone bear," he said. "Are you trying to prove how hard your bones are?"
"I panicked!" Oliver hissed. "What else am I supposed to hit it with?"
The smoke around the bear's head began to thin. Its bloodshot eyes locked onto Oliver, and its killing intent surged.
The beast roared, mana gathering again along its claws.
Oliver's mind raced. Sword, he didn't bring one. Spells, he had none.
Running away was already too late.
His hand plunged into his bag again and grabbed the first thing it touched.
He yanked it out.
A black sandal appeared in his grip.
Ethan's voice jumped.
"Oi, oi, oi, why are you grabbing me again! Senior is a soul master, not a fly swatter!"
Oliver did not answer.
At that moment, a different kind of memory rose in his mind, his mother, and the sandal she used to hit him with.
Every time he caused trouble, every time he blew something up in the backyard, every time he "almost" set the house on fire, that cheap leather sandal had flown at him with terrifying speed and accuracy.
The angle, the timing, the snap of her wrist, all of it had been carved into his bones through pain.
His expression slowly calmed.
'Thank you, Mother,' he thought.
He stepped forward, raised his arm, and swung.
The sandal slapped across the Black Stone Bear's nose with a clear, crisp sound.
A red sandal-shaped mark appeared on its muzzle.
The bear's head jerked to the side and its huge body swayed.
For a brief moment, its eyes went blank.
Inside, Ethan was also blank.
"Did I just hit a Tier 2 beast in the face?" he thought. "With my body?"
Oliver's eyes lit up.
"It works," he whispered.
The bear shook its head hard.
Its gaze focused again, full of killing intent, and it stared at Oliver like he was the source of all its suffering.
It roared straight at him.
"You dare roar at me?" Oliver shouted back. "Know your place, beast. Take this, Almighty Sandal Slap!"
This time his movements were smoother.
He twisted his waist, rotated his shoulder, snapped his wrist, and brought the sandal down again.
Another sharp slap landed on the other side of the bear's muzzle, leaving a second red sandal mark.
The beast's head flinched once more.
The pain from these light-looking slaps spread through its nerves faster than the earlier punch.
Oliver saw the reaction and no longer hesitated.
"Again!" he yelled.
He stepped in and kept swinging.
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
Each strike left a clear red sandal mark on the bear's face.
The Black Stone Bear tried to raise its paw, but another slap snapped its head aside.
It tried to gather mana, but a slap cut off its focus.
It opened its mouth to bite, only to take another smack straight on the nose that made its eyes water.
From the side, if anyone had been clear-headed enough to think, they would have seen a massive Tier 2 beast being beaten back step by step by a boy with a sandal, its head jerking left and right like a drum being played.
After the seventh slap, the bear's legs shook.
After the eighth, its eyes rolled.
After the ninth, its head turned once in a daze.
With a heavy thud, the Black Stone Bear collapsed to the ground.
Dust rose around its muzzle, which was now covered in overlapping sandal marks.
Silence fell over the clearing.
Oliver stood there, breathing hard, still holding the sandal in his bruised hand. His chest heaved, and he stared at the fallen beast with a blank look, as if he himself could not believe what had just happened.
Inside the sandal, Ethan finally found his voice.
"…So this is the power of getting beaten by sandal as a child," he thought. "Truly terrifying."
On the other side of the clearing, the girl coughed weakly. She forced herself to sit up and lean against a tree.
Her vision was blurry, but she could feel that the bear had stopped moving.
"Who is… there?" she managed to ask.
Oliver turned his head.
Panic flashed across his face. If she saw him waving around a living sandal that could slap a Tier 2 beast to death, it would be hard to explain.
He walked toward her without thinking, sandal still in hand.
Ethan felt a chill.
"Oi, what are you doing? Put me back in the bag. We can talk about this.
I am a dignified soul master, not something you use to hit a lady.
Do not get any closer to her fa-"
SMACK!
The sandal came down on the girl's forehead.
A crisp slap sounded. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed sideways, a fresh red sandal mark printed neatly across her face.
Oliver froze. Ethan also froze.
"…Senior," Oliver whispered in his heart, "one hit knockout. You are amazing."
'What amazing?' Ethan screamed inside. 'If this in my old world I will get sued!'
The two boys on the ground groaned.
Oliver turned toward them.
He knew very well what would happen if they woke up and saw this scene: a dead bear, three injured people, and him standing there with a sandal.
"Sorry," he muttered with a grind. "For safety."
He walked to the tank first and brought the sandal down.
SMACK!
Another slap, another neat red mark, and the boy went limp, unconscious again.
Then he moved to the dagger user and did the same.
In a short span, the clearing became completely quiet.
Three examinees lay on the ground, breathing steadily, each with a red sandal print on their faces.
A Tier 2 Black Stone Bear lay dead nearby, its entire muzzle covered in sandal marks.
Oliver stood in the middle holding the black sandal, his hand throbbing, his arm aching, but a strange sense of accomplishment slowly spreading in his chest.
Ethan let out a long sigh.
Oliver sat down on the ground, exhausted. He looked at the bear, then at the three unconscious examinees.
"Senior Ethan," he asked, still catching his breath, "is this… considered stealing their kill?"
Ethan went silent for a moment.
"It is," he said at last. "And it feels great!"