Episode 374: Liar

I was caught.

By the time I realized it, it was already too late.

Thanks to the water-element magic Ryotomo used, my lightning-element magic was reacting poorly.

...I didn't understand that logic until much later.

At that moment, all I could instinctively grasp was that he had definitely devised some complicated scheme, and I'd fallen right into it.

For an instant, I had the illusion that my entire body’s skin was cracking apart, starting from my right arm.

"Ah-mya-mya-mya-mya-mya-mya-aahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

A scream, like a broken radio, tore from my vocal cords, and my eyeballs jerked wildly up and down, left and right.

Amidst the stench of burning flesh rising from my body, I staggered and fell.

It was the enemy, Shichireiri-kun, who gently caught me.

Of course, he wasn't doing this out of kindness—

"Prepare yourself. This technique is going to hurt."

As he finished speaking, I heard a crisp, satisfying crack from my right hand.

For a moment, the familiar sensation of popping a joint shot through my palm,

"—gah!"

I instantly stopped, as usual, from reflexively analyzing or contemplating it.

It was because I noticed my index and middle fingers bending in an unfamiliar direction.

He vaguely understood that the player was weak against joint techniques—yet still, to be defeated so easily, like a Pocky stick snapping effortlessly. There must be some trick to how force is applied.

"...C-can I get...a healing..."

At the moment he began to cast a healing spell on the injured spot, quickly.

"Quit it! Your bones will fuse in a strange way and never return to normal!"

I'm taken aback by the genuine concern in their voice.

Wait... was that right? But healing magic can fix even complicated fractures, right...?

Before I could finish my thought, a powerful upward kick struck me square in the side of the face.

Spitting blood, I tumbled off the rooftop and landed upside down on the colorful streets of the Cartoon Area.

"Ghh... g-go...?"

This is bad. I didn't expect this kind of damage.

For a moment, I braced myself for a finishing blow, but there was no sign of Riru-kun.

"——?"

As I puzzled over this, I locked eyes with one of the group of girls chasing me. She looked about twelve or thirteen—her round face still bearing the traces of childhood—and upon seeing me sprawled on the ground, she immediately dashed toward me, overjoyed, without clearly understanding the situation.

No! Don't come here! You'll get dragged into this!

I tried to shout it, but unfortunately, my throat wouldn't obey at all.

No— even if she had heard my words, it would've been impossible to stop her.

After all, right now, we're in the middle of a game of tag.

"Yay! It's the 'Nameless' guy!"

Right beneath her feet, the magic circle that appears when activating the fifth-grade fire spell became visible.

"……!?"

Such a thing.

Just because this girl is immortal doesn't mean—no way.

I instantly activate my demonic transformation, releasing magical energy from my back to shield her.

We fly out beyond the range of the fifth-grade fire spell, the sound of wind rushing past, and I glance back—

"……Wait!?!"

No flames were rising from the magic circle. It seems she canceled the spell mid-way. Clever move, I'll give her that.

But I didn’t have time to genuinely admire her. In that instant, I realized I’d completely lost track of Riru-kun.

I set the girl unconscious in my arms aside and spread my awareness in all directions, still not undoing the demonic transformation.

Any carelessness from earlier was now entirely gone.

I finally understood his fighting style.

Riru-kun was, just like me—someone who fought in a way I was weak against.

Even if I had to reveal my ultimate technique, *Kissatsu Ken VI*, right here, I wouldn’t stand a chance unless I defeated him.

While probing for Riru-kun’s next move, I smoothly drew my sword from the back.

Then, I grimaced and forced my face into the scariest expression I could muster.

The girl nearby, clueless to the situation, squealed in fear. “Eeeeee…!”

Good. It’s working perfectly.

If this keeps up, Riru-kun should definitely be thrown off guard by my approach.

He was over twenty years old. He had claimed he couldn’t die.

Therefore, he should inevitably have to move with greater caution.

...And yet, after thinking this far,

I began to question whether that was truly the case.

There was something in his fighting style—some strong conviction, as if his very life were on the line.

It wasn’t just the kind of motivation one might feel when ordered by a superior. I sensed something deeper.

Or perhaps this has something to do with that "guidebook"-derived information...