Qin watched helplessly as his body straightened.
The panic that had once flooded his thoughts was abruptly sealed away, buried beneath a calm so absolute it felt foreign. His heartbeat slowed. His breathing steadied. Even the lingering haze of alcohol vanished as if it had never existed.
Kafka's eyes narrowed.
The man before her had not moved, yet something had unmistakably changed.
"…Interesting," she murmured.
Qin's body tilted its head slightly, the movement smooth and measured - nothing like the erratic dodging and drunken bravado from before.
"Threat identified," a flat, emotionless voice left his mouth. It sounded like him - but hollow, stripped of warmth. "Probability of survival under direct conflict: twelve percent."
Kafka's grip tightened on her blade.
"How did you move?" she asked softly, almost amused.
Qin's feet shifted, sliding into a stance he had never learned - one optimized not for elegance, but for survival.
"Engaging evasive protocol."
Kafka lunged.
Her sword flashed like violet lightning, cutting straight for his throat.
Yet Qin was already gone.
His body twisted at an impossible angle, bending backward as the blade passed a hair's breadth from his skin. The alley wall behind him cracked as he pushed off it, flipping over Kafka's head and landing several meters away.
Kafka turned instantly, eyes alight.
"Oh?" Her lips curved upward.
She was a predator playing with her prey.
Without waiting, she pressed the attack.
Each strike was precise and merciless, every swing aimed to kill. Qin's body responded with inhuman efficiency, slipping through narrow gaps, dissolving into mist only to reappear elsewhere, phantom images trailing behind him.
The alley filled with afterimages.
Metal screeched against stone as Kafka's blade carved the ground where Qin had been.
"Countermeasure insufficient," Qin's cold voice assessed. "Enemy reaction speed exceeds prediction tolerance."
Kafka laughed softly.
"You're fighting me without killing intent," she observed. "That's your mistake."
Her lips whispered, "Stop."
Invisible weight crashed down. Qin's movements faltered for the first time - just a fraction of a second.
That was enough.
Kafka appeared in front of him in a blink.
Her knee slammed into his abdomen.
Qin's body flew backward, crashing through stacked crates before skidding across the ground. Splinters rained down as he came to a halt.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Kafka approached slowly.
Qin's body stirred.
"…Damage within acceptable range," the System stated. "Initiating last-resort deterrence."
His right hand lifted, and sparks of flame came to life.
Cyan fire grew around him, and Kafka halted her advance.
Her instincts told her his intent had changed; a cornered beast always bites, they say.
The atmosphere shifted. The air turned cold as the flames absorbed every bit of heat in the area.
The fire on Qin's hand began to take shape - sword, spear, dagger - continuously morphing before finally settling into an inscrutable sword.
Taking a low stance, he brought the blade down beside him, his dull pupils fixed on Kafka.
Dangerous! Kafka's instincts screamed. Every inch of the alley had become a danger zone - but before she could react, Qin's blade appeared before her.
Swish.
His sword flashed like lightning, barely missing Kafka's neck.
Feeling the cold edge brush her skin, she retaliated instantly.
Slash.
Qin dodged backward, but had no time to spare as a shower of bullets followed him.
His mind made a split-second decision. Using the walls as platforms, he dodged most of the bullets while shielding his torso with his blade.
The exchange lasted only seconds before Qin finally landed on solid ground.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
More bullets tore through the air.
Qin's blade widened as he subtly shifted his stance and swung at the incoming barrage.
With each swing, a bullet was struck and redirected into another bullet.
Seeing her gunfire rendered ineffective, Kafka clicked her tongue and ceased firing.
Qin's hand trembled violently. His body was never meant to endure this, yet the System drove it forward regardless, squeezing out strength it did not possess.
He raised his blade.
The weapon responded - growing, stretching, its form expanding until its shadow swallowed the alley whole, eclipsing walls and rooftops alike. The air groaned under its weight, as if the world itself were bracing.
Heavy Strike: Heaven's Fall.
The name flashed through Qin's mind.
Then the blade descended.
The alley vanished beneath a cataclysmic crash. Light and sound were torn apart as the strike consumed everything in its path.
When the dust settled, silence followed.
Ice crawled across the ground like a living thing, sealing stone and steel alike. Towering pillars of frost erupted outward from the impact, jagged and merciless, turning the alley into a frozen grave carved by immense force.
Qin's ragged breaths produced silver mist in the extreme cold as his body collapsed.
Kafka—his target—was nowhere to be seen. She had likely escaped, both to avoid the damage and to prevent being caught.
Their clash had undoubtedly attracted attention, and with the script at stake, she could not afford capture.
With the threat gone, the System's control shut down - along with Qin's entire body.
[Host in critical condition]
[Searching for possible recovery method…]
[Searching…]
[Searching…]
[No possible recovery method detected]
[Creating a recovery method]
[Creation successful]
[Please provide a name for the application:]
[…]
[Code Name: Simulated Universe]
[Booting up application....]
With that series of messages, Qin's consciousness faltered before passing out.