The moment we breached the building, I felt a ripple of combative intent. It was close—very close.
Given the five-minute preparation time and the nature of our opponents' Quirks, I doubted there would be any complex traps. Sensing intent is different from sensing a mechanical snare; the lack of malice or hidden mechanisms suggested a direct confrontation.
The presence didn't feel like Iida. If so, then the one lying in wait was—
"Aoyama is close. He's preparing an ambush."
"Understood," Tokoyami replied. "I'll leave the vanguard to you."
"Acknowledged."
We exchanged only those few words, maintaining a distance of several meters as I pressed forward. Behind me, Tokoyami kept Dark Shadow coiled within his cloak, ready to manifest at a moment's notice to counter a surprise attack.
As I mentioned before, the layout of this building differed from the others. While the fourth and fifth floors were standard, the first through third floors featured a wide-open atrium right at the entrance. It was a tactical nightmare for an intruder and a playground for an ambusher. With no cover to speak of, it wasn't hard to guess what was coming.
Sure enough, seconds after entering the open space, a cold prickle of precognition stung the back of my neck.
"Coming from four o'clock. Move!"
"What—!? G-ugh!"
The words had barely left my lips when a brilliant beam of light tore through the air. Thanks to the warning, Tokoyami threw himself aside just in time, while I evaded with the barest minimum of movement.
Still mid-evade, I spun toward the source of the attack and shouted.
"Go!"
"Right!"
We leaped, crossing paths to scramble the enemy's aim. Both of us were capable of significant verticality; Tokoyami bounded toward the second-floor balcony into the shooter's blind spot, while I vaulted toward a more aggressive vantage point on the second floor. From there, we split up.
I began my ascent toward the third floor, utilizing the fundamentals of Form IV, Ataru—making myself a conspicuous target while moving with deceptive economy. Aoyama fired repeatedly, but it was useless. I flowed around each beam as if they were slow-moving blaster bolts. I knew exactly when and where they would strike before he even pulled the trigger.
Finally, I stood face-to-face with Aoyama, who had barely moved from his original sniping position.
"Quite the performance, Mademoiselle☆"
Aoyama spoke with an air of practiced nonchalance, his face a mask of calm. It was a good act, but a futile one. The Force told a different story: he was deeply rattled.
It was time to shake him further.
"I see... you cannot maintain a continuous beam for long. Nor can you fire in rapid succession without a cooldown."
"Oh? ...And what if you're wrong?"
I stated the facts flatly, continuing my slow, measured advance.
He fired again. I didn't even have to rush. It was just like a blaster; no matter how fast the light travels, anyone can dodge it if they know the exact moment of the discharge.
"This is the end, Villain. Surrender peacefully."
"...Haha. Do you really think a Villain would just give up because you asked nicely?"
"I suppose not."
"Exactly! Adieu☆"
Aoyama clearly realized he was outmatched. His decision to retreat was the right one; knowing when to fold is a mark of a capable combatant. He utilized the same trick he'd shown in the fifty-meter dash—leaping into the air and using the recoil of his laser to propel himself away. It was a clever move that combined offense and escape.
It would have worked against anyone else.
"Gwah—!?"
Aoyama's escape was cut short. He hit the floor hard, tumbling and clutching his right leg in agony. His face was a mask of pure bewilderment.
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