A flash of light, like a horizontal bolt of lightning, tore its way out through the plane’s hull and would have disintegrated the coupe had Kaname not tugged on the hand brake and swerved aside just in time. Instead, the stealth bomber he was riding on took the hit and was sliced cleanly in two. It was unclear what happened to the AI mercenaries. Most likely, they were vaporized by the beam as well.
A Legacy. However, it had to be the strangest one yet. What Takamasa held across his shoulder was something resembling four rocket-propelled grenade launchers bundled together into a metal box. It was a unique weapon originally designed to fire flat-tipped tungsten shells, delivering an impact force powerful enough to distort the frame of a car and send all four tires skidding off the road. And that was before taking into account the Legacy’s extra abilities.
You’re kidding. That’s an explosive door kicker! The kind used in infiltration missions!
“Kaname!!”
This wasn’t like #lockpick.err. This Legacy could open a hole in a solid wall if it had to.
It was difficult to tell whether the blood covering Takamasa was his own or that of the AI soldiers he had fought off. Kaname caught his gaze staring straight through the jagged hole torn in the airplane hull.
There was no need to hold back now. Kaname’s evasive maneuver earlier had not slowed the coupe’s speed in the slightest. Even if he slammed on the brakes now, he’d just wind up sailing into the sky. So he released the hand brake and pressed the pedal right down to the metal.
As the stealth bomber steadily lost altitude, Kaname sprang off its wing.
Takamasa ejected his spent casings, each larger than a three-liter soda bottle, and speedily loaded another round. This was where his skills as an engineer really shone—his hands moved with frightening precision. A weapon like that would have no trouble blasting the coupe right out of the sky.
There was no time to waste.
“Tselika!!”
The Magistellus in the passenger seat sprang into action—a force Takamasa had chosen not to rely on. She straightened out the collapsible anti-materiel rifle, #fireline.err, and without even taking time to line up the shot, she pulled the trigger.
Ka-bamm!!
Takamasa’s second shot. However, it failed to hit its mark. Kaname’s coupe, four wheels spinning helplessly in the air, had somehow managed to dodge out of the way. This was thanks to the power of the Legacy in Tselika’s hands. Firing sideways from the passenger door window, she had used the weapon’s enormous recoil to knock the sports car aside.
The coupe continued its advance, breaking through the plane’s lightweight aluminum hull and landing in the cargo bay. Kaname and Takamasa immediately trained their weapons on each other. Takamasa had already reloaded the door kicker’s explosive ammunition.
“Anything to say for yourself, Kaname?”
“I’d like you to get down on your knees and apologize to Celsa.”
However, just then, the two of them were thrown off balance. The combined damage caused by Takamasa’s Legacy and Kaname’s coupe had been the last straw, and the plane had started breaking up midflight. Suddenly, the force of gravity came back in full, and the god of death’s invisible hand, like a strange sea anemone, plucked them all up in its lethal grasp.
Kaname, of course, was not wearing a parachute, but it was the demon girl next to him who screamed for dear life.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! WHAT’S GOING TO BECOME OF MY TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE?!”
Time was not on their side. They began to plummet—a free fall from nine thousand meters aboveground. Kaname took Short Spear in hand and unlocked the driver’s side door, and the air pressure took care of the rest. He dived out into the sky and pointed his weapon at Takamasa, who, having planned to paradrop from this height all along, had brought a parachute.
Kaname couldn’t kill his old friend, but he could shoot as many electric rounds as he pleased. He’d already shown Takamasa the lessons he’d learned from Smash Daughter in their previous bout.
“Kana—!!”
Takamasa briefly checked his parachute, showing once again that he made for an excellent engineer but a terrible soldier. Kaname, meanwhile, didn’t even flinch. Ignoring the buffeting winds, he fired off two shots. However, even at twenty meters, the silent electric rounds missed their target. A bent piece of aluminum from the scrapped plane had suddenly flown into Kaname’s barrel and knocked it aside.
However, even this freak accident couldn’t crack Kaname’s determined frown. Using the momentum imparted to him, Kaname spun around. Takamasa let off a bolt of lightning without taking time to properly aim. It tore through a distant aircraft, scattering debris into the night. Kaname dodged it all and delivered a spinning kick into the door kicker resting on his old friend’s shoulder.
“Grh!!”
The cuboid metal box was wrested from Takamasa’s grip. Its thick metal frame must’ve met with less air resistance than the boys did, because it fell away and disappeared into the city lights below.
Now they were grappling.
“I’m surprised, Kaname. To think you would use the power of the Mind to get here!! That was something I never considered!!”
“Sorry, Takamasa, but now I know what you’re up to.”
There was a series of muffled noises, and Takamasa’s penknife went flying out of his hand.
“You should have realized it earlier,” Takamasa shot back. “Did you really think I was brave enough to throw away my life for people I didn’t even know? At my core, I’m nothing but an introvert and a coward!!”
Kaname thought he might burst out laughing. He was the same. Kaname wasn’t the kind to fight for other people, either. Outside the game, he was a spineless coward who curled up in a ball at the thought of somebody he knew seeing his face.
“Grh?!” Takamasa grunted as Kaname’s knee landed in his stomach.
But there were times when even a coward had to stand up and be strong. Anyone could be a hero if they were given the chance.
“You can’t save Midori your way!”
Takamasa gasped at his friend’s bold assertion. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed Kaname by the necktie.
“And what makes you so sure? You think if I destroy Money (Game) Master it’ll damage her mind? Where’s your proof?!”
“I won’t claim to know more about this game than you,” said Kaname, even as his tie tightened around his neck. “You’re the expert here. Without your Legacies, I’d never have gotten as far as I did. But testing out your laser weapon on innocent passersby is inexcusable. You can’t tell me that was a necessary step. They weren’t like the bad guys in the Red Territory. Lots of good people make noise!”
“What are you…?”
“Look me in the eye, Takamasa. Look at me and try to tell me you had no choice. You just needed a hint because you weren’t confident in yourself, am I right?”
He was. Takamasa had no idea what would happen, either. That was the same for everyone, since nothing like this had ever been tried before. He could shoot down other people’s ideas all he liked, but it wouldn’t make his own right.
Kaname had more to say.
“And if you’re destined to fail, you’d rather it be by your own means. That way you’ll have fewer regrets.”
“?!”
“Don’t deny it. It’s very human. A computer could never spit out such an illogical answer.”
“Aren’t you the same…?” asked Takamasa, releasing Kaname’s necktie from his grip.
From overhead, something came plummeting down. It was the Legacy, #meltdown.err. Takamasa grabbed it by the quadruple barrel and swung it like a hammer with all his might.
“You’re not confident in your way, either, are you? You can’t prove it’ll work with objective facts! The only reason you want to settle things your own way is because you don’t trust mine! You think because neither of them are one hundred percent guaranteed, you can just pick whichever potential outcome you like the most!!”
Perhaps that was true. Nobody knew more about the game than Takamasa. Even Kaname had to admit that. It was very likely there was nothing he could say to change his friend’s mind—no authoritative statement he could give to convince Takamasa to stand down. No one had that kind of knowledge.
Kaname pressed his arms to his sides, lowering his air resistance and shooting like a javelin closer to Takamasa, where it would be harder for him to strike.
“Ghh!”
He was reminded of the way bankers and investors spoke: “We’ll do everything we can.” “We’ll endeavor to deliver the best results.” “We will devote ourselves on your behalf.” Assuaging fears without promising anything. It was common practice in a world where everyone’s main concern was covering their own ass.
You’re just like them, Takamasa was saying.
He struck.
The weighty Legacy drew blood that dripped down Kaname’s face. But Kaname didn’t hesitate; he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pulled him in close.
“Say it!” Takamasa cried. “If you think you can protect her from everything, then say it!!”
Smash!!
Kaname slammed his forehead into Takamasa’s at point-blank range.