Editing City Series:Volume6a Chapter2 (section)

===Part 6===

Hazel quickly turned her head to check their surroundings.

No one was out on the moonlit and windy streets tonight, but around 20 men carrying firearms surrounded her and Berger in a half circle.

“Um,” she began with a troubled tone. “Does this mean we’re surrounded?”

She was shocked when no one reacted to her question.

She frantically stood up and spoke to Berger’s back in front of her.

“What is going on? Is this the Geheimnis Agency you were talking about?”

“Indeed it is,” said the previous deep voice loudly enough to be heard over the blowing winter wind.

The group ahead of them parted and a man stepped forward.

The older man had gray hair and a tall, thin figure illuminated in the moonlight.

He suddenly pulled out a handgun. The automatic weapon had several fang-like designs on the side and his gloved hand slowly aimed it toward Berger as he spoke.

“Do you know who I am, ‘Wild Hund’ Dog Berger?”

“I do, ‘Schütze Puppe’ Bermark Vier.”

The gun remained perfectly aimed at Berger’s forehead.

“Will you hand over the girl or not? Choose.”

“The girl? Don’t call her that, old man. She may be too innocent to have a Titel, but she does have a name. Have the decency to call her Hazel Mirildorf.”

Berger’s bitter smile helped Hazel start breathing again.

Hearing her name spoken brought a sense of relief. She was unsure if that came from her feline instincts, but it was still there.

“Don’t assume you can justify using people as no more than a means to an end, you outdated old man,” continued Berger.

“Those who refuse to abide by the new national policy are the outdated ones, youth.”

Bermark gathered strength in his voice and spoke in a different way next.

<The Freeshooter awakens.>

He shut his mouth and the Text was released from this gun.

But that was not all. A faint light left the barrel and shined on Berger’s forehead.

…''What kind of spell is this?

Berger and Bermark said nothing to answer Hazel’s question.

That meant neither of them found this to be odd in the slightest.

“Is that the Freischütz I’ve heard so much about ever since last year? Marsch is a hell of a designer.”

“This was designed based on a gun under development by Walther, making this the latest fashion in our nation.”

<The Freeshooter sees the enemy.>

The light emitted from the barrel narrowed down to perfectly aim at Berger’s forehead.

But Berger maintained his bitter smile.

“You’re being mighty cautious with your Eingeweide’s Erklärung. Is your hand too shaky from age, old man? First, you use the Ton text that binds you and the machine in order to rewrite the surrounding space as text.” He took a breath. “And then you use the temporary Beweisen attack to focus in on the machine’s Tons so you can Erklärung the effect you want, huh?”

“Thanks for the lesson, but I already know how it works.”

Bermark used his next Erklärung to rewrite his act of taking the shot and the flight of the bullet.

<The Freeshooter shoots the enemy.>

He aimed between the eyes, the shot would land in an instant, and a single dry blast rang out.

“…!”

Hazel reflexively crouched down and squeezed her eyes shut in fear.

Her vision vanished into darkness, trapping her in a world of only sound.

First, she heard the sound of wood splintering and of metal hitting metal.

Those two noises overlapped and several seconds of silence followed.

“…”

She did not hear Berger scream or flesh being torn through.

If she did not hear any of that, none of it must have happened.

…''Eh?

That question grew into curiosity, so she opened her eyes. She saw darkness in front of her.

But the darkness before her opened eyes fluttered along with the wind brushing at her cheek.

It was the hem of Berger’s black coat.

“…!?”

She looked up to see him standing with his back to her.

The wind blew and something fell from sky to her cheek.

The small splinter of wood was from the box he had been carrying.

She could see him holding the splintered box overhead and his voice rang out.

“Is that all your Beweisen can do? Then I’m not too impressed with the Eingeweide handgun Freischütz?”

The wind blew even stronger, causing his coat to flutter up enough for her to see Bermark beyond him.

The old soldier with the handgun was directing a suspicious look toward the box Berger held.

“What is that?”

The tension in Bermark’s words was answered by a small sound from the box.

The wood was bursting apart and scattering.

Hazel saw Berger now holding something other than the box in his hands.

It was a long hilt.

The hilt of a sword shined a dull gold in the moonlight. The guard was decorated with something like woven hair and the hilt had somehow feminine lines.

She heard him speak in a horribly cold voice.

“Allow me to introduce you to the Eingeweide sword I was left with.”

He smiled bitterly.

“It’s called Gelegenheit.”

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