It was a weapon completely at odds with the Bowel Hunter's delicate looks, its surface gleaming with a dull, ominous sheen.
It was a kukri—about thirty centimeters of blade, curved like a crescent moon. A type of sword-knife whose forward weight let it hack through prey like an axe.
The Bowel Hunter swung the kukri, smiling sweetly—and chillingly—as she fixed her gaze on Shichen's abdomen like a predator eyeing its quarry.
What most interested her was ripping out human intestines. Hence the name: Bowel Hunter.
"Are they like this because of you?" Satella demanded.
"Isn't that obvious?" The Bowel Hunter finally deigned to answer her.
"Why? You didn't have a grudge with them, did you?"
"Of course not. They're business partners. They just got a little greedy."
"And for that you're going to kill them?" Satella couldn't believe it.
"Hehe—naive little girl… and silver-haired at that. They knew too much. Silencing people is normal, isn't it?" she laughed back without a trace of guilt.
Naturally. If she felt guilt over killing, she would never have earned the title Bowel Hunter.
"You—!"
Scrrrt—!
The floor suddenly flashed icy blue; cold raced across the ground toward the Bowel Hunter.
It was Satella's ice magic—fire-attribute magic.
Strange as it sounded, it was true: fire magic, strictly speaking, controlled heat, which naturally extended to ice magic as well.
For Satella to strike without a word meant she was truly angry; with her gentle nature, she would never attack outright otherwise.
"A little girl with thorns."
The Bowel Hunter hopped lightly aside, dodging Satella's attack and landing atop a cabinet.
"I won't let you go!"
As she spoke, several fist-sized ice bullets bloomed outside Shichen's barrier and shot at the Bowel Hunter. But her movements were razor-sharp; with a twist of her wrist she slipped past them all.
"You…"
When she touched down again, Satella halted her assault—the woman had slipped in behind Subaru, who had his back to them. Satella didn't care about wrecking the room, but she did care about collateral—especially someone she knew.
"Despicable!"
"Hehe—someone you know? He looks a bit pathetic, but I wonder how his intestines look…" The kukri in her hand angled toward Subaru's belly.
"Eh?"
At that, the still-retching Subaru finally processed what was happening.
"What do you think you're doing?" Satella barked.
The Bowel Hunter didn't answer—and without the slightest hesitation, she drew the blade across Subaru's abdomen.
"Eh?"
Subaru looked down, blankly inspecting his stomach—no sign of anything wrong.
Then his tracksuit split open, revealing skin—and a vivid red line. And then—
Splurt—!
Blood sprayed.
"Gaaah—!"
Subaru couldn't help howling; only then did the pain reach his brain. Fear gripped him; he shook, body going cold. Through the split flesh he thought he saw something like coils…
Were those his intestines?
His guts were going to spill out!
He was going to die!
"Don't move!"
Shichen flashed to his side, barked the warning, and began healing.
"A-A—Aniki…"
"Don't be afraid. As long as you're not dead, I will fix you."
"R-really?"
Before his eyes, Subaru's abdomen knit back together, skin smoothing where it had been torn.
"Relax. Even if she cuts you a couple more times, you'll be fine—as long as your head doesn't come off."
"…That doesn't relax me at all," Subaru grimaced, still shaken. This other world was terrifying. Why had he come here—with no cheat to boot? He'd only gone to the convenience store, and now this? Was being a shut-in grounds for this kind of punishment?
"Shichen! Look out!"
Satella's urgent warning rang out—but Shichen didn't even turn.
Ding—!
Sparks burst again—the Bowel Hunter's kukri had struck the barrier and gone no further. Scowling, she hacked at it, again and again; the barrier didn't budge.
"Tch. What a pain," she clicked her tongue and stepped back.
Shichen stood, turning his back to Subaru—the stench of vomit was getting to him.
"Subaru, get out of here. Leave this to me."
"Ah… mm…"
Subaru tried to get up, but sticky blood and limp limbs made it impossible; he could only inch himself toward Satella. She glanced down, conflict flickering across her face—she didn't really want him close; he was filthy. Luckily he kept his distance, and she could focus on Shichen.
"Bowel Hunter, I'll give you a chance. Considering you're pretty—and share my black hair—I can let you walk away," Shichen said magnanimously.
Finding someone with the same hair color was rare—especially here. Even if her crimes were heavy, he could offer one chance.
"Shichen, what are you saying?" Satella snapped.
"Learning from your soft heart."
"I am not soft-hearted—I know you're teasing me! This is not the time!"
"Relax. I'm very strong."
"Very strong? But I don't want to leave," the Bowel Hunter said, licking her lips, smiling.
"Sigh. Then there's no helping it."
Shichen shook his head; no more chances. He looked her in the eyes—and scarlet light bloomed in his own.
"Wha…—" The Bowel Hunter found she couldn't move—pinned as if by some invisible weight, unable to resist at all.
Pure bloodline suppression.
Shichen was a Primogenitor; she was a vampire half-breed. Different worlds, different systems—but his bloodline still overrode hers.
"I gave you a chance," he said flatly. She might be pretty, but she wasn't his type.
"Who are—"
Snap.
His snap was her only answer. The holy fire lighting the storehouse drifted down and settled on her. In an instant it roared up, wrapping her.
"Aaah—!"
It didn't scorch skin—it seared bone and blood. The pain tore screams from her throat. The flames didn't relent at her shrieks, only burned hotter, until, before the eyes of Satella and Subaru, they reduced her to ash.
When it finished its work, the golden fire floated back to the ceiling to light the room as if nothing had happened—but no one there could ever see it as "harmless" again.
"We're good, right?" Shichen turned and asked Satella with a smile.
"What do you mean 'good'?" she blinked.
"Doing it this way—was it too cruel?"
"Oh, that."
Satella shook her head and smiled. "Honestly, I was thinking of cutting that so-called Bowel Hunter into little pieces myself."
"Little pieces, huh… That doesn't suit you," he said, amused, and walked to the big old man. With a wave, he drew the severed arm over and set about reattaching it.
"D-don't mind me… F-Felt…" the old man rasped—the "Felt" he meant was the little thief lying nearby, facedown in a pool of blood.
"Don't worry—she's okay."
After fixing the old man's arm, Shichen healed Felt. Her belly had been slashed too, but the cut was shallow—bloody but not disemboweled. Likely the old man had shielded her.
"Mm…"
As the wound closed, Felt drifted awake; the first thing she saw was Shichen's face—the one she hadn't forgotten.
"Awake? That makes twice I've saved you," he said.
"Eh?" Felt looked at him, confused—the fog hadn't cleared yet.
"In any case, cover up. I've seen it all," Shichen said, nodding at her stomach.
Felt looked down and finally noticed she was bare in front—flat tummy exposed, barely a hint of chest.
"!" She jolted, clutching herself and curling up, flustered.
"Hehe. If you don't mind, put this on," Shichen said, pulling a jacket from thin air and handing it to her.
"Th-thank you…" Felt took it, face red, and hurried to put it on, buttoning it up tight.
"Got your bearings now?" Shichen asked.
"Mm…" Felt nodded. Embarrassed, but her head was clearing—this very good-looking man had saved her. Twice, counting earlier.
"In that case, we should return what belongs to its owner, shouldn't we?"