The first six shots hit center mass.
Hayate takes the bullets and dives over the railing, crashing to the first floor.
He rolls into the shadow of the staircase.
I shift position and fire down on him.
He scrambles for cover, ducking behind the pedestal of one of the ancestral statues.
I track his back and let it rip—full-auto. Four seconds later, the mag runs dry.
Tough bastard. Nailed him plenty, but he’s still on his feet.
Guess he really is running on Demon juice.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!
Return fire from behind the pedestal.
I duck behind the marble railing. Solid cover.
The burst ends. Counted thirty-three rounds. P90 holds fifty.
He’s still got some—no, wait. Factor in what he dumped into that corpse earlier... he might be empty too.
I reload fast while I think.
His voice echoes across the grand hall.
“Ow, ow, ow. That hurts, Ikaku~”
“It’s about to hurt a hell of a lot more.”
“You really are a moron. That was your last chance.”
“Not as big a moron as you.”
“Afraid of becoming a Demon more than dying?”
“That’s part of it. But I shot you for a simpler reason.”
Can’t forgive a traitor who murders his own.
Hell, if I hadn’t dodged those fire claws, he would’ve done me in without blinking.
And I made a promise to Instructor Kisame. I’m gonna send every last Demon straight to hell.
And Master drilled it in deep: crush Demons the second you find them.
“I’ve known since the start my life’d be full of pain. I made peace with that a long time ago. And I’ve already got all the power I need to push through. So no, I don’t need to become a Demon. And Hayate—I'm going to crush you. You're not escaping.”
“You always gotta mouth off, huh? Your comeback to that stuck-up Euro noble is still a legend around here. Well, fine then—let’s settle it with murder. One annoying bastard to another!”
“Agreed.”
I break from cover and unload on the statue's pedestal.
No sign of him.
The second my shots stop, he fires right back. I duck.
I yank the pin on a holy water spray grenade and lob it blind over the railing.
“Nope, nope, nope, Ikaku~”
He shoots it out of the air.
The grenade spins, spraying vapor as it flies off-course, then pops harmlessly.
I peek out, catch him mid-reaction, and fire.
He ducks.
I brace the rifle one-handed, squeeze off short bursts, and pull another grenade.
This one makes it. Holy water erupts.
Hayate bursts from cover, firing his P90 one-handed.
“You that desperate to see my face?”
“Quit skulking like a coward.”
“Oh, but you’re the one hiding, Ikaku.”
“You’ve got Demon powers. Why’re you scared of a regular human?”
“Hah. As if.”
Hayate steps into the open, strolling through the wide hall, shooting as he walks.
I stay low, waiting for his mag to empty.
Thirty-five rounds... thirty-one... twenty-seven...
“Come on, Ikaku. What, scared of a little pea shooter?”
“Terrified.”
“Must suck, being just human.”
The fire stops. He’s out.
I pop up and return fire—my turn now.
But Hayate leaps from the first floor to the second. That’s nearly three times his height.
Freakish leg power.
“Alright, this lame shootout’s over! Time to get serious!”
He tosses the P90.
Now he’s sprinting along the upper walkway that rings the grand hall, arm raised to shield his face, charging like a bull.
I keep shooting. The closer he gets, the more rounds he takes.
But he doesn’t slow.
Click. I’m out.
Hayate hits the railing and vaults straight at me.
I retreat up the stairs, reloading on the move. Slide the mag in—done—just as he lands right in front of me.
He lunges. I fire.
He grabs the muzzle dead-on.
The gun misfires. Barrel explodes, spraying shrapnel.
I ditch the ruined rifle, draw my pistol, and shoot.
He ducks. That movement is fast—too fast.
No normal human could pull that off. Not even a high-level mana user.
“What’s that face? Shocked?”
Hayate’s grinning like he’s having the time of his life.
I backpedal, fire three more times. He dodges each one. Effortless.
He brushes off his coat and smirks.
“This is Demonic Ascension. Power beyond human limits.”
“You were getting hit earlier. How—?”
“I told you. I wasn’t serious.”
So he let me hit him?
He was taking cover, playing it safe. If he could dodge this easily, none of that adds up.
I fire again, backing away.
He advances, swaying side to side, weaving past every bullet.
“Useless, useless, useless, useless! It’s all completely useless!”
Seventh shot. Miss.
He closes the gap and grabs my pistol.
“Pretty sluggish moves there, Ikaku!”
His leg comes up—front kick, aimed for the groin.
I pivot, catch his shin with both hands, and ride the force.
My body lifts with the blow. The pistol flies free.
I flip back, landing on the second landing.
Hayate rockets up the stairs, fourteen steps in one leap.
He grabs the pistol mid-air, levels it at my face.
Two meters away. No cover.
“See ya, partner. Enjoy your regret.”
He fires without hesitation.
I move my head—six inches. The bullet kisses my ear.
His eyes widen. He fires again. Torso shot.
I read the muzzle, time it, and twist. Grazes my shoulder.
Now his eyes are wide open. His mouth too.
“What’s that face? Shocked?”
“You... you dodged bullets...”
Sensing Force.
It’s a technique. Read the enemy’s next move through touch. Core skill in contact methods.
At higher levels, you don’t need touch. You can sense it with body hair, or even at a distance.
That’s where it starts to overlap with Presence Reading and True Initiative.
Master it, and yeah—you can dodge bullets head-on.
“Sorry to break your happy little miracle moment of bullet dodging. But it’s not a special power or anything. Regular humans can do it too. It’s well within the range of ordinary technique.”
Surpassing guns through Kung Fu.
That’s the path I started walking two years ago.