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It is raining in the slums of the city, but not hard enough to wash away the detritus of misfortune and violence. Nobody worth a damn lives here. Nobody with good intentions comes here. The only people in this place are the hunters… and the hunted. The guy I’m hunting is an assassin, an opportunistic killer known for the ambush, and he’s been jumping me all night in this maze of alleys. You’d never see him coming, even if you were prepared, and I’m always prepared. Especially for violence. Especially for him.
My footsteps echo down the empty streets. The sound of the beating rain masks it all, the sounds of my movement, and any hint of his. People call him a saint, the Sword Saint. He’s anything but. He’s a demon with a blade, a devil with a sword, a cool-headed bastard who’s easy to underestimate. He isn’t saintly in anything that counts. I should know. He’s been slicing chunks off me all night.
You can’t give opportunistic bastards like him any openings. All he needs is a single opportunity to strike, and then you’re dead. You’ve got to be perfect. Nobody’s perfect. That’s what he relies on. That’s his bread and butter. That’s why he lives, and others die. I hate rat bastards like that, assholes who feed on the weakness of others. It’s time to take him out. I’ve just got to be perfect.
The rain’s still coming down, making everything slick and hard to see. He knows where all the best places to set up an ambush are. I know’em too, and he knows I know. That’s what makes it tricky. It’s all down to mind games, and the reduced visibility makes matters worse for me. Up ahead, I see the flashing neon sign of the diner around the corner reflected on the slick, wet streets. The pink glow splashes across the mouth of the alleyway, giving the rats light to eat their dinner.
Was that a flicker?
I look closely at the reflection on the streets.
Somebody’s there. On the roof, in the dark shadows behind the sign.
The rain’s helping me at last. He’s there. I can feel it. So this is where he’s chosen to make his stand. I know he’ll try to close in on me, but I won’t let him. They say you should never bring a sword to a gunfight, but that never mattered to him. Sometimes you can beat the odds by choosing where you fight. Sometimes, that choice isn’t yours to make. Sometimes, you’ve got to take the shitty hand you’ve been dealt, and turn it into gold.
My pace doesn’t falter. Can’t let him know I’ve spotted him. It’s five steps to the corner. That’s where he’ll begin his attack.
Four steps.
Three.
Two.
One.
I start firing just before the turn, and catch him in midair. He won’t catch me now. Not if I’m perfect. I’ve got to be perfect to survive this. My shots keep him suspended in the air. I’ve got to make sure each bullet hits him in the right place. In exactly the right place to deliver him exactly where I want him to go. Nowhere. Nowhere until he’s dead. Wildfire and Shattered Frost don’t let me down. They spit out bullets with pin-point precision. I’ve got to be perfect.
There’s no time for hate or bloodthirst in this slaughter. I’ve no energy to spare for emotions. I’ve got to focus. When you have a worthy enemy like this, you’ve got to concentrate. You’ve got to give it all you’ve got, or he’ll get you.
Even suspended in midair, he doesn’t shut up. He spouts off more trash than what’s in the alley I just walked through. His words are just a smokescreen, a distraction. But I’m not distracted. I’m focused. I see his head turning, even as his body jerks from the impact of the bullets. He’s still looking for a way out of this. That’s what makes him dangerous. Any other man would accept his coming death with grace and honor.
Not him.
Even with death staring him in the face, he still looks for an opportunity to strike. That’s why you’ve got to be perfect.
I see the flicker of three sword lights in the gap between one bullet and another. He’s timed it perfectly, but he’s still closer to death than I am. And the chatter never stops. You’ve got to treat it like white noise, or you’ll go mad. He’s looking for openings again, but I won’t give him one. It only takes one mistake. There won’t be any.
All I need is one well-timed shot. There. He’s beginning his attack. I’ve got to take him out before he closes in. Shattered Frost delivers the final bullet. It knocks him down, and he never gets back up. Blessed silence.
Turn the right corner in a place like this and you can find anything.
Even glory.
===
“...and now let’s move on to the first Blue Rain and Samsara match up of Season 11. This was definitely quite an eye-catching match up of two powerhouse teams! And they definitely did not disappoint,” Pan Lin turns to Li Yibo. “What did you think was the most eye-catching from their match today?”
“Of course, the team match was brilliant, as expected from two powerhouse teams. They truly showed us what playing Glory at the pro level should be like. And certainly fans of both teams won’t be disappointed at the outcome since both teams clearly fought for victory to the bitter end. Whether you are on the losing side or the winning side, it was something to be proud of. However, I’m more interested in the fantastic individual match between Huang Shaotian, the Sword Saint, and Zhou Zekai, the Gun King!” Li Yibo’s enthusiasm is clearly overflowing.
Pan Lin nods eagerly, “Yes, let us go to Meng Bo our correspondent who has Captain Zhou with her to see what he has to say about his close win in the final individual match.”
“Thank you! I’m Meng Bo, here at the arena with Samsara team captain, Zhou Zekai. Captain Zhou, what can you tell us about that exciting individual match that you had with Huang Shaotian? From the audience standpoint it was a very close match with both of you chasing each other around the Dark City Slums map, and truly, the last stand you had in front of the diner on the main street was even more exciting, especially with your signature Rapid Fire Delivery Gun! We were all fired up, especially when you lengthened it with Dual Load. What a spectacular display of your abilities. What can you tell us about that exciting match up?” Meng Bo turns to Zhou Zekai expectantly.
He stands next to her, a distant look in his eyes, that perfect face looking as if it isn’t living on quite the same planet as everybody else. Silence. Then, “...perfect.”