Fully equipped and hidden near the Loot House in the slums, Subaru sat in the shadows, strategizing his next move.
"Maybe I can use Shamak at the right moment and go for a decapitation," Subaru muttered to himself. "Let's try it."
Steeling himself, he slipped inside the Loot House, his footsteps light but deliberate. He leaned against the right wall, arms crossed, his posture deliberately casual yet every muscle was coiled, ready to react.
"What's your business, young man?" Old Man Rom asked, wiping down the counter with a worn rag.
"Just waiting for a friend," Subaru replied, keeping his tone neutral.
"Alright. You can take a seat if you want," Rom offered.
Subaru raised a hand, shaking his head in polite refusal. Closing his eyes, he focused, straining his ears for any sign of movement.
Even if my progress resets with each death, I can still train my senses.
After a tense silence, the door creaked open, and Felt strode in, her usual confident smirk in place.
"Old Man Rom, I got the goods," she announced, holding up the insignia with a flourish.
Her sharp eyes immediately flicked to Subaru. Suspicion flashed across her face as she sidled up to the counter, sliding onto a stool.
"Who's the creepy guy?" she whispered to Rom.
"Says he's waiting for someone. Just ignore him," Rom muttered back.
Time crawled by, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then...
In a sudden burst of motion, Subaru drew his sword and lunged forward, slashing downward in a vicious arc.
A shadowy figure leaped back, narrowly avoiding the blade.
"My, my. Isn't that rude? I just arrived, dear~" Elsa purred, her voice dripping with amusement.
"Felt, Rom. Get out. Now." Subaru's voice was steel. "Elsa Granhiert, the Bowel Hunter. By Lugunica's law, your execution starts here."
Without hesitation, Felt and Rom bolted, mistaking this for an official operation. Elsa's lips curled in annoyance as they fled, but her gaze soon locked onto Subaru, her interest piqued.
"Ara~ working with the military? How adorable." She tilted her head, her smile widening. "But you're all alone… Ah, I see. Trying to claim the reward for yourself?"
"No," Subaru growled, shifting into his stance; Inside Right. "I'm here because of a bet."
"A bet… with your life?" Elsa's laughter was light, almost musical. "How fascinating. I'll enjoy gutting you alive, my little mercenary."
Her daggers flashed into her hands, the blades glinting in the dim light.
Subaru charged, thrusting his sword straight at her. Elsa raised a dagger to parry.
"SHAMAK!"
A swirling black mist erupted from Subaru's body, engulfing Elsa and blinding her senses.
Seizing the opening, he twisted his thrust into a horizontal slash aimed at her neck.
But Elsa wasn't so easily fooled.
The sound of his movement reached her ears. With inhuman speed, she slid her dagger up, intercepting his blade mid-swing. Before Subaru could react, her other dagger flicked out...
A sharp pain erupted at his throat as blood sprayed into the air.
. . . .
Subaru shifting to inside right stances, ready himself to end Elsa. He rushed at her again but this time he launch Shamak early.
But this prove to be stupider as Elsa caught the sound of his step and she slip into his guard before he could react she stab into his heart.
Subaru vomiting blood and said "I see you next time"
"Sure, my dear" Elsa said.
Dead yet again.
. . . .
Subaru shifted into the Inside Right stance, his grip tightening on the sword's hilt. This time, he would end her.
He lunged forward but instead of waiting for the perfect moment, he unleashed Shamak early, testing its limits.
A fatal mistake.
Elsa's ears caught the shift in his footsteps. Before the dark mist could fully obscure her vision, she slipped past his guard with terrifying grace.
A flash of steel.
Subaru's body jerked as her dagger plunged deep into his heart.
Blood gushed from his lips, his vision swimming. Yet even now, a defiant smirk tugged at his mouth.
"I'll… see you next time," he choked out, crimson dripping down his chin.
Elsa leaned in, her breath warm against his ear.
"Of course, my dear," she whispered, almost tenderly.
Then, darkness.
Dead. Again.
. . . .
Subaru shifted into the Inside Right stance, his grip firm, his gaze locked onto Elsa. His breathing steadied; slow, controlled.
"I need to be as stealthy as possible."
He exploded forward in a sudden lunge. Elsa didn't move, her crimson lips curled in amusement, as if daring him to strike.
At the last possible moment.
"Shamak!"
A swirling black mist erupted from his body, smothering Elsa's senses. Subaru didn't hesitate, he drove his blade straight for her skull.
Yet, impossibly, she reacted.
Her head snapped back, her body bending in a fluid cartwheel, the tip of his sword grazing nothing but air.
Before he could reset his stance, she surged forward, low and fast, daggers aimed for his stomach.
Subaru twisted, swinging his sword downward in a desperate slash.
A flicker of steel, a shallow cut opened on Elsa's arm as she sidestepped, barely avoiding a lethal strike.
She glanced at the wound, then back at him, her smile widening.
"Good," she purred.
Then she was on him.
A flash of silver.
Subaru's body jerked as her dagger sliced clean through his abdomen.
His vision blurred. Warmth spilled down his legs as his knees buckled.
The last thing he saw was Elsa's delighted grin before the world faded to black.
Dead. Again.
. . . .
Subaru shifted... A flash of steel. Dead by sliced to the throat.
Subaru shifted... A gut-wrenching tear. Dead by sliced to the stomach.
Subaru shifted... Cold metal kissed his windpipe. Dead again.
Subaru shifted... Hot pain blossomed below his ribs. Darkness took him.
Subaru shifted... The familiar sting at his neck. Another reset.
. . . .
Subaru swallowed hard, throat raw from countless deaths. His mind raced through the failures like a macabre flipbook.
'How does Batman move without sound?' The absurd comparison stuck in his mind as he adjusted his stance to Inside Right once more.
Steel flashed. Another death.
But this time - something different. His footfall had been quieter. The swing more controlled. Tiny improvements accumulating beneath the avalanche of failures.
He was learning. Adapting. The progress was invisible beneath the bloodstains, but the pattern was there. Each death bought him milliseconds of silence, grams of precision.
Elsa's smile seemed fractionally less amused each time.
The Bowel hunter was noticing.
And that meant everything.