SPO4 Iswantus, Sharpshooter (3)
1420 Words
This noodle and pasta restaurant may be smaller than we expected; but as I can see from the eyes of satisfied diners, it seems this place has some of the best dishes in this prefecture.
Even the smell inside is alluring... like it makes me want to order a dish right away.
We all easily spot SPO4 Iswantus' men on a right-side corner of the restaurant. Like him and SPO3 Mangacop, they all wear the standard constabulary officer uniforms, with their own insignias and signature weapons to match.
As he is their senior, they all stand up and salute him.
“Kept you waiting, sir.”
“And by the way, here is our new ally – hopefully a vital asset in finally bringing down our target. He is Walter Deschantes, an adventurer with five years' worth of experience. Some of his skills can be called unique... but they have the potential to be helpful in our operation. Please introduce yourselves to him.”
One by one, the members of the Tactical Strikers team make their own acquaintances.
The first is a pink-haired woman wielding a katana.
“I am SPO1 Lana Reina dela Rosa. My blade shall slay the demons in our midst.”
The second is a blue-haired, pony-tailed woman wielding a long magician's rod with a floating orb at its ornate end.
“My name's SPO1 Nathaleya Blackfire, and it's good that I've met someone like you!”
The third is a somewhat tall man wielding a greatsword whose handle is fashioned from the branch of a mystical tree.
“PO3 Volsung Limdico, at your service. My legendary gallantry shall be my greatest contribution, oh brave warrior.”
The last is a man one foot shorter than PO3 Limdico, and wields the quintessential sword and shield.
“This is PO3 Howard Jones. This operation's my first time actually as a Tactical Striker, so I mustn't fail you all!”
I give my courtesy to them all, as usual.
We all then sit down and order a huge plate of stir-fried egg noodles.
We all agree to pay for the tab, in equal parts.
As we are all in a public place, we must follow one of the rules where an officer must not converse with another officer, superior, or authorized person regarding tactics and strategies in such place, lest enemy spies and other dangerous elements will eavesdrop on them.
After all, loose lips sink ships.
Instead, we all taste the various flavors of meat and vegetables that permeate the thick egg noodles.
Once our feast is over, we all agree to proceed towards the training grounds outside of town.
Specifically, the Swaerg Constabulary Training Camp, which is fully owned by the constabulary and has many training amenities for various types of fighters.
Once our identities are confirmed (the training camp has a two-factor authorization process to keep unauthorized personnel out), the camp's guards let us all in.
SPO4 Iswantus tells me the basics.
“This is the training camp where we sharpen our skills, Sir Walter. We have an archery range that can accompany ten archers at once, ten dueling arenas for melee fighters, and five magical practice grounds for spell-casters.”
“I see. I classify myself as a melee fighter. But...”
I show my allies my weapon summoning skills. In order, I summon a bowie knife, a seax, a naginata, a composite bow, a steel mace, a pilgrim's staff, and a steel chair, all in rapid succession.
Naturally, they are all amazed by this.
SPO3 Mangacop then asks me...
“So you can summon weapons at will?”
“Yeah. But only if the situation calls for a specific weapon.”
“Make sense to me.”
The leader of the team then instructs us...
“Alright then, everyone! You can all start your training right now! We'll all be here until sundown!”
“Yes, sir!”
The training phase officially commences.
The bow and crossbow wielders undergo target practice at the archery range, and I get to see how accurate their shots are.
Right now, the wind is still.
Anyone dabbling in archery must know that wind direction and resistance can make a great impact on the trajectory and accuracy of an archer's shots.
Essentially, the two are training in the best conditions.
SPO4 Iswantus carefully focuses his eyes on the target; and one by one, he fires his arrows.
Seven out of the ten arrows he fires land dead-center, while the remaining three land near the outer rims of the center.
He remarks...
“I feel like my aim's not good enough. Need to focus more.”
Seems like he's dedicated to being the best sniper-archer in the entire kingdom. I appreciate his efforts.
SPO3 Mangacop, meanwhile, cares more about speed; as he fires his bolts from his crossbow with quick draws of his hands.
The result? Of the twenty bolts he fired, nine of them land dead-center, seven land within the large area near the center, and four land outside the target.
His comment?
“I think I shouldn't sacrifice accuracy with speed, huh?”
But as a buddy cop, the two shooters must complement each other to compensate for their own apparent weaknesses.
Meanwhile... in a lake outside Fiaco...
The deranged “invincible” man known as Esteban Abada Guy unleashes his reign of terror upon a hapless random man he grows to hate in just two days... just because that man has an opinion completely opposite to his regarding what language should be used to perform a play famous throughout Mielong Prefecture.
“Ahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHA!!! You're telling them them the bold truth that is not sugarcoated whatsoever? What a pseudo-intellectual you are.”
“Why?! WHY?! Why are you targeting me?! Y-You monster! Just because my beliefs are different from yours doesn't mean you should kill me for clinging to those beliefs of mine!”
“And WHY should I NOT kill you, huh? You're really a moron, dude. Have you forgotten to switch your alias just because you fear ME, the one and only regulator of opinions? You're just replying to yourself, you damn fool! It sure will be fun when you'll end up as a corpse, and your mom who's full of sperm equivalent to a jar of fruit cocktail will be your only witness!”
“D-Don't you drag my mom into this! Why would you wish something like that to happen to her, if I may ask?! And even though I may fear you, I'm still satisfied seeing you being triggered by my heartfelt answers to your inane statements, you coward hiding behind that silly magical barrier of yours!”
“Dead... will be you. A hand cannon... must be fired at your head. Hell... must be the place where your father and mother will end up.”
“You're that amusing, huh? Your quips may be clever... but in actuality, they're corny. Ha ha. I feel that you're feeling intelligent, but you can't just escape the reality that you're a mere basic human, and your intelligence and knowledge levels are truly lower than those of an average human.”
“Yap, yap all you want! You thought I'm reading what you're saying. Hee hee hee!”
“I know you do. And I love that you have time to reply. I know that you're taking me seriously, while me talking to you is just a hobby. Ha ha ha.”
“Eight more! Eight more! Eight more guintos as payment for disseminating your weak-sauce opinions!”
“Sorry, I don't want my lower my intelligence any further to match that comment of yours. With that comment, you lost my attention. You're irrelevant to me. I'll just find another more interesting troll.”
“The mom of the corpse who will still reply to me... is still full of semen, OK?”
As the “invincible” criminal puts up his barrier, he immediately c***s his hand cannon.
The man he insulted attempts to run away, but the criminal has a whispering parting shot at him.
“...and you won't find another troll, 'cause I'll be your last.”
He then literally does a head-shot to the poor guy, killing him instantly.
As Esteban Abada Guy's maniacal laugh resonates throughout the lake after the cur kills another person he dislikes...
A glaring hole in his “barrier” bares itself.
The Achilles heel that must be taken advantage of if he must be defeated.
- Writer
