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THE WITCH AND THE INVESTIGATOR

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Beyond the throngs of people crowding the alleys lined with a diverse array of small shops, the golden, sheep-like back of Berta Andele was visible.

Having failed at shadowing her, Arcelia was now in hot pursuit, intent on nothing less than a capture. Berta, for her part, would occasionally glance back with an expression one might use on a troubled child, which did nothing but grate on Arcelia’s nerves.

Arcelia’s vision narrowed until she saw nothing but Berta. Her petite frame accelerated, darting through the crowd like a needle through fabric. Though Berta drifted through the alleys, turning left and right with eerie speed, the distance between them began to close, inch by inch.

When she had closed the gap to a mere arm's length, Arcelia lunged toward Berta. A pair of white, plate-like "Shackles"—the kind used to bind a prisoner—formed instantly in her right hand, or rather, one half of the pair did, and it **stretched** as if piercing through a tiny opening in the crowd.

In a heartbeat, it closed in on the light-brown wrist—

Only to be evaded at the very last second. Berta, caught slightly off guard, had yanked her hand back just in time. Then, with a soft flutter of speed, she resumed her flight. As she did, her foot caught a pile of colorful citrus fruits stacked under a shop's eaves, causing them to collapse in an avalanche toward Arcelia.

Arcelia leaped over the fruit, and as she landed, a soft, leisurely voice reached her.

「That's just cheating. Is it an extraordinary ability?」

Arcelia couldn't fathom why she would bother to say such a thing while fleeing; she took it as a blatant provocation.

「I won't let you get away!」

Her tone was as dead serious as always, but it was laced with a raw surge of passion. From that point on, an even more intense chase began. The crowd, realizing they were caught in the middle of a pursuit between Berta and Arcelia, became even more congested, erupting in confusion and angry shouts.

「You're a Lyliless, aren't you? Don't you use magic?」

「...I am using it. This is more than enough to capture you.」

「Hmm, even a child could do reinforcement of that level. Besides, shouldn't an investigator of the Alliance be issued a mechanical or magic-circuit tool or two?」

「They are unnecessary.」

「Huh. Could it be you’re bad with both magic and weapons?」

「That is none of your business. It will not hinder me in capturing you.」

Arcelia stole a quick glance at her surroundings, confirming that the people in the alley had mostly scrambled out of the way. It was true that Arcelia was clumsy. Despite her race, she could only use the simplest of spells, and she couldn't master the equipment issued by the Investigation Department.

But her "Extraordinary Ability" was different.

She enlarged the shackle in her right hand until it was more than twice her height and hoisted it onto her shoulder—

"The Shackles That Capture Evil." This was Arcelia’s extraordinary ability: she could bind any target she touched with a shackle at the point of contact. While she could change its size and length at will, she could only create "shackles."

—She swung it down.

Berta avoided it easily again, but the shackle extended at the last moment. (If I can't catch her hand, I'll just beat her down.) Arcelia had always felt that this was far simpler and easier to understand than relying on clumsy magic or machines that wouldn't do what she wanted.

The shackle, now as massive as a greatsword, caught a lock of Berta’s blonde hair and tore it away as it slammed into the ground. Berta managed to limit the damage to just her hair, but the impact sent her stumbling into an outdoor cafe. Arcelia tried to close in immediately, but Berta was already back on her feet, resuming her drifting escape.

「I let my guard down a little,」 she said in her leisurely tone, but the shirt that had been resting on her shoulders had slipped, and her curvaceous chest looked as if it might spill out at any moment.

***

The noise Rob heard was the sound of their pursuit. However, catching up to the two of them as they moved frantically through the alleys was difficult, so he scanned his surroundings and headed for the tallest building nearby.

From its roof, he searched for them—and found them. Without ceremony, he materialized a "Revolving Rifle" and took aim.

Then, he clicked his tongue.

「...Tch. I'm out of Paralysis Magic Bullets.」

Since he used to be able to create an infinite number of them, keeping track of which bullets were available, which were gone, and which he had used up was a royal pain. The ability he once called "Infinite Firearms" had changed its name to "Phantom Firearms" right after the Demon King's subjugation, and it had dwindled into a system of limited ammunition.

The "Satellite Cannon" that had defeated the Demon King was also at zero rounds. Furthermore, any firearm he created that rivaled it was out of ammo the moment it manifested. The reason Rob had wanted to go to the gun shop—even to the point of sweet-talking Arcelia—was certainly because he wanted a gun, but a larger part was to increase the variety of guns and ammo he could manifest.

That said, he was now reflecting on his lack of foresight. While it was Rob who had tricked Arcelia with a tall tale, he hadn't expected her to be this reckless and headstrong. Because of that, he felt a certain level of responsibility for making her choose a tail over her mission, which is why he was now aiming at Berta from the rooftop.

「...Anesthetic rounds... I've got those. Good.」

Still, "Phantom Firearms" was not powerless. To begin with, Rob hadn't been an expert on guns when he was back in Japan. He knew the basic principles, but his knowledge of actual firearms was fuzzy at best—just enough to know the names of famous ones like Magnums or Berettas.

However, even with such fuzzy knowledge, "Phantom Firearms" functioned more than well enough. Even the "Revolving Rifle" he was holding now would have several flaws if it were a real gun, possessing a structure that was practically unsuitable for reality, but as long as he used bullets created by his ability with a gun created by the same ability, those flaws were non-issues.

Through the rifle's sights—the alignment of the rear and front sights—Rob tracked Berta as she drifted away from Arcelia. There was no need to calculate distance, height, or even wind direction. As long as his aim was true, it would hit. It didn't have homing capabilities, but it would slightly correct its trajectory. That was Rob's extraordinary ability.

Predicting Berta's movements, Rob pulled the trigger.

There was no sound. Moreover, there was no recoil and not even a spent shell casing. The round, fired at a speed uncharacteristic of an anesthetic bullet, sped toward Berta’s torso, but—

_________________.

The bullet stopped dead just inches from Berta. The anesthetic round lost its momentum and plopped to the ground. A portion of her blonde hair fluttered softly, as if she had deployed a barrier.

Just as Rob was about to pull the trigger again, he felt as if his eyes met Berta's. In that moment, pink smoke exploded. Both Berta and Arcelia were enveloped in a comical pink smokescreen, and Rob lost sight of his target.

(Did she get away?) he thought, lowering his gun. Just then, he felt a slight current of air against the back of his neck and instinctively ducked. A brown mass streaked through the space where his neck had been.

Rob steadied himself and looked back.

A dog.

And it was a bipedal dog at that. Even now, various bipedal dogs were jumping out of a magic circle that had been drawn without him noticing. The breeds varied, but every single dog was walking on two legs, and in their adorable eyes, there was reason—and rage.

「Damn it, what the—!」

Without giving him time to put distance between them, the dogs attacked one after another. As if exploiting the weakness of a firearm, they closed in at high speed, forcing an ultra-close-quarters fight. While they didn't carry weapons, the force of their fists was no less than that of an ordinary warrior, and their maws—which no human warrior possessed—were a threat in and of themselves.

They unleashed their short limbs at his vitals—his face, solar plexus, and groin—without mercy. Rob, having discarded his gun early on, avoided them by a hair’s breadth. Even after reinforcing his body with the only bit of reinforcement magic he could manage, he was barely keeping up. The only saving grace was that there was no sign of martial arts in the dogs' movements.

Rob relied on his physical capabilities to predict their telegraphing movements and dodge them. In truth, Rob had almost no formal training in martial arts. After all, there were no martial arts in the world he had been reincarnated into that were designed around the use of firearms. Still, the experience he had forged in war served him well.

He dodged simultaneous bites to his neck and feet, as well as a five-dog-strong flurry of punches, with strange, fluid movements. But there were no counterattacks using physical techniques. He simply continued to evade.

His combat instincts were dull; the speed of the dogs far exceeded his expectations. There were several reasons he couldn't counterattack, but above all, Rob's physical combat style included no counters using punches or kicks.

「...Finally getting the hang of it.」

He leaned back to dodge a gouge to the eyes, lifted a leg to avoid a sweep, and twisted his body to withstand a follow-up strike to his torso. In a posture where a counterattack should have been impossible, he pressed his fist against a dog that was trying to dart past his feet.

—*Yelp!*

Instantly, the dog’s head snapped back, and it was sent flying. Rob used that same leg to spring up, twisting his body, and thrust his hands into the maws of two dogs that were lunging from both sides to bite him.

Once again, the dogs were blown away. This time, they couldn't even manage a whimper. At this bizarre phenomenon, the remaining dogs raised their tails straight up and kept their distance.

「...They’re still alive after that?」

Rob muttered with an exhausted sigh as he watched the fallen dogs rolling on the ground, clutching their heads and jaws. The fact that it was oddly comical only made it worse. The dogs glared intently at Rob's hands. Rob's hands were lightly clenched, but the muzzles of small guns were peeking out slightly from between his fingers.

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