Gun Chapter 48: Precision Strike (Patreon)

A Limit Break Point, huh. Another absurdly broken thing.

Wakasha liked it. The more, the better.

Then came the ultimate options for Precise Strike.

[Skill · Precise Strike has reached EX, triggering ultimate options—

1. Sure Arrow (Epic): A locked-on target will inevitably suffer the aimed attack, no matter how far away it is

2. Evade Arrow (Epic): If a locked-on target uses a ranged attack against you, its first attack is guaranteed to miss

3. Annihilation (Epic): When facing your next attack, a locked-on target is treated as having no armor and suffers an additional 100% vulnerability effect

—Please choose one of the three ultimate options to permanently bind to this skill]

Three options. Three directions: tracking, defense, or damage.

Naturally, Wakasha wanted all of them.

Couldn’t he just click fast enough and take all three?

...After struggling with it for a moment, Wakasha chose Annihilation.

One reason was that his current range was already sufficient. Another was that Evade Arrow only worked against ranged attacks, while Annihilation gave much more direct, practical damage.

So for now, Wakasha was perfectly happy to let his damage overflow even further.

[Precise Strike LV·EX: Consumes mental power to mark a designated target. Your next attack against that target gains +200% accuracy and +35% critical rate. Cooldown: 1 second

Bound Effects: Ruin, Skullcrusher, Annihilation]

Wakasha nodded in satisfaction and closed the panel.

The Limit Break Point could wait until he got back to town before he studied it properly.

For now, he slowly walked to the edge of the puddle, crouched down, and took out the extractor, carefully collecting the slime residue.

The slime gel extracted from that purple slime was slightly different again from the gels he had taken from the earlier mutated slimes, but that could wait until later. He’d have plenty of time to study it once he got back.

Once the collection was finished, both of his commissions were truly complete.

He just hoped condensing his class hadn’t taken too long.

And he wondered if Sister Mitsuri had been worried when he didn’t come back on time.

He had said he’d be back in the evening, but clearly he had missed that promise.

Thinking that, Wakasha started heading back toward town.

The wind in the forest brushed against his face, carrying the scent of grass and leaves. His steps landed on the leaf-covered ground with barely a sound.

The changes brought by becoming a class-holder were comprehensive. With 7 Agility, his movements were as light as a hunting cat in the woods. Every step landed precisely in the gaps between the leaves, avoiding dry branches and loose stones that would have made noise.

His 11 Intelligence and 9 Perception worked together, magnifying his senses to the limit. Every movement within a hundred meters was reflected clearly in his mind. Even the faint vibrations of a field mouse burrowing more than ten centimeters underground couldn’t escape his notice.

He lowered his eyes and looked at his hand.

What had once been a thin hand covered in small calluses from years of odd jobs now had well-balanced lines and clearly defined joints. The skin on his palm still carried the roughness of long labor, but inside it was strength far beyond what it once held.

Six Strength might not be particularly impressive among warrior-type class-holders, but for a Demon-Hunting Gunner centered on ranged output, it was more than enough to hold both guns steady. Even after firing hundreds of rounds, his arms wouldn’t tremble.

More important, though, was the magic surging through his body.

The mental power and mana that had once felt like a trickling stream were now like a flowing river—dense, heavy, and full. As they circulated through his body, they gave him an unprecedented sense of fullness and control.

The increase in elemental affinity brought by the class passive Magic Gunner let him clearly sense the various elemental particles floating in the air. Fire-element particles, in particular, were especially active. With nothing more than a thought, he could call on Solar Sphere’s power and unleash a sea of flame.

Inside the cloth bag at his waist, the extractor was full of newly collected slime gel. Several portions of ordinary slime gel and several portions of mutated slime gel were lying safely inside—more than enough to turn in the commission.

And in another leather pouch, he had the goblins’ left ears, far more than the twenty required for the quest. The extras could still be exchanged at the guild for copper coins. Little by little, it all added up.

The only thing on his mind now was time.

From condensing his class, to falling asleep, to waking up and wiping out the slime group, the sun had already shifted west from its noon position. Orange-red afterglow filtered through the branches, casting broken patches of light on the ground.

He had originally promised Mitsuri he’d be back at the inn by evening. Now he had missed that promise by who knew how long—plus another half a day. The gentle pink-haired innkeeper was probably worried sick by now.

Thinking of that, Wakasha quickened his pace.

A trip from the muddy marsh back to White Earth Town would normally take quite a while, but with his now superhuman stamina, it took him less than half an hour before he could already see the tall gray walls of White Earth Town in the distance.

On the country road outside the walls, three figures were trudging along unsteadily, their gear tattered and their faces still carrying the exhaustion of survivors. It was the three people he had rescued in the forest earlier—Lenk, Lina, and Aila.

They were carrying a few bulging cloth bags, apparently filled with things like herbs and rabbit pelts. It looked like they had managed to scrounge together a few saleable materials on the forest outskirts and were now heading back to town.

Lina was the first to spot Wakasha. Her hand tightened on her short bow, her eyes widening instantly. She grabbed Lenk’s arm, her voice filled with stunned delight.

“Brother Lenk! Look! It’s the lord who saved us!”

Lenk and Aila turned at the same time. The moment they saw Wakasha walking toward the town gate, gratitude and respect flooded their faces. They immediately stopped and bowed deeply.

“My lord!”

Lenk’s voice was hoarse, but completely sincere.

“I never thought we’d meet you here. We still haven’t properly thanked you for saving our lives yesterday!”

Yesterday? So I didn’t sleep that long after all.

Wakasha thought to himself.

Then he gave the three of them a quick look.

Their condition was much better than it had been yesterday. Their wounds had all been simply bandaged. They still looked miserable, but they no longer carried that desperate, near-death air they’d had before.

Still, Aila’s wooden staff was just as crude as ever, and Lina’s quiver was still empty. Clearly, their situation hadn’t improved much at all.

“No need to thank me. It was nothing.”

Wakasha’s tone remained flat as his eyes dropped to the bags in their hands.

“You just came out of the forest?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Lenk gave a bitter smile and scratched his head, clearly embarrassed.

“We listened to what you said and didn’t dare go any deeper. We just stayed in the safe zone on the very edge, gathered some herbs, caught a few rabbits, and scraped together enough to trade for a little money—just enough to cover food for the next few days.”

He paused, as if suddenly remembering something, then quickly added,

“Oh, right, my lord. We spent the whole day on the forest outskirts and heard quite a few things. It might be worth telling you, so that if you go in later, you won’t run into danger without warning.”

Wakasha raised a brow, signaling for him to continue.