The silence shattered.
Just as Shuren's finger started to tighten around the trigger—
Clang!
Mischa's teacup flew through the air like a bullet, crashing against the gun with a sharp metallic ring. The impact jolted Shuren's aim, her shot whizzing past Mischa's shoulder and smashing a golden lantern behind her in a burst of flame and sparks.
Mischa moved with the grace of silk slicing through the air.
Her chair slid back silently as she twisted her wrist, catching her porcelain cup mid-spin before it could even touch the ground. The fluid motion culminated with her foot hooking the handle of an umbrella cleverly concealed beneath the table.
Shuren's gaze flicked to it, unimpressed yet intrigued. "Cute. You planning to use that for rain or bullets?"
Mischa flashed a sweet smile. "Neither."
A low hum filled the air — faint at first, but then swelling into a pulsating vibration that made the lanterns tremble.
Mischa spun the umbrella in her hand, and the silver veins along its frame began to glow a deep, emerald green. The fabric quivered as if it had a life of its own, pulsing with energy.
Then—
Boom.
The aura erupted outward.
Green lightning coiled around her body like living serpents, enveloping her in a storm of kinetic force.
The edges of the umbrella began to twist and break apart, the ornate ribs unfolding and reshaping into sleek black gun-barrels, orbiting around her in perfect harmony, a mechanical halo spinning above her shoulder.
Some elongated into elegant rifles, while others compacted into revolver forms, all humming with the same toxic light.
Each rotation left behind a trail of green sparks and faint, ghostly symbols that flickered through the air like runic code.
Shuren's eyes widened slightly, her cigarette slipping from her lips and landing on the jade floor.
"Well," she murmured, a sharp exhale cutting through the haze. "Didn't see a maid turning out to be a Sionel."
:
Shuren twirled her pistol with a flourish, spinning it around her finger before bringing it back into position. A mischievous grin danced on her lips.
"I'm not gonna lie," she said, her voice dripping with admiration. "That thing looks amazing. I can barely contain myself over here — it totally gives me Rintaun vibes."
Mischa raised an eyebrow. "Rintaun?"
"Yeah," Shuren replied, stretching out her words like she was sharing a juicy secret. "It's this little town south of Kurayamiya where the women really know how to get creative with their toys."
A look of disgust crossed Mischa's face, and she tightened her grip on the umbrella.
"No wonder people say the women from that town are... well, you know."
Shuren gasped in mock horror, placing a hand dramatically on her chest.
"Madam, how scandalous!" she exclaimed, feigning offense. "That's a bit much — especially coming from a maid."
Mischa blinked, only catching the sarcasm a moment too late.
Her expression softened, a hint of guilt creeping in. "...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
She lowered her head for just a moment — a single, vulnerable second.
When she looked up again—
Three bullets were already hurtling toward her.
The air shattered with a thunderous crack as the rounds sliced through the green haze, glowing faintly with Shuren's crimson aura.
Mischa's pupils dilated. She swung the umbrella upward with lightning speed — the rotating gun barrels aligned perfectly, creating an impenetrable shield.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sparks erupted across the room like a fireworks display, the sound of ricochets mingling with the whir of spinning steel.
Shuren's smirk remained intact.
"Oh good," she said, re-cocking the gun. "You're quick. That means I can shoot more."
Mischa's fingers glided over the handle of her umbrella, her expression sharp and unforgiving.
"Let's see just how fast you really are."
The gun-barrels circling the umbrella whirred to life, locking into place. Then—
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
A cacophony of gunfire erupted. The recoil from the umbrella's barrels rattled the air, unleashing a blinding storm of bullets that sliced through the smoke toward Shuren like a tempest of steel.
Each shot screamed with a green glow, energy crackling around them like a thunderstorm—the sheer force cracked the tiles beneath their feet.
But Shuren remained still.
Not a flinch.
Not even a blink.
Her cigarette burned steadily between her fingers as the world around her blurred into streaks of green.
Then, she murmured—
"Muteki no kurōn."
The words slipped out like a soft curse.
In an instant— the world came to a standstill.
The bullets halted mid-air.
Some dipped down, embedding themselves in the ground.
Others arched sharply upward, spiraling toward the ceiling.
A few spun slowly in the air like bewildered insects, glinting with distorted reflections of Shuren's face.
Mischa's breath hitched in her throat. "W–What the hell… How are you—"
Shuren exhaled lazily, smoke curling from her lips like a ghost.
"None of your business," she replied with a sigh.
Then she grinned.
And without warning— flipped Mischa off.
BANG!
A single shot rang out across the room.
Mischa staggered back, clutching the side of her head— blood trickled down her neck as her ear hit the floor with a soft thud.
Her eyes widened in shock and rage.
Shuren twirled the pistol around her finger, her smirk returning as she blew away a thin wisp of smoke from the barrel.
"Guess you're paying attention now, huh?"
Mischa pressed her hand against her face, blood trickling down her jaw as pain pulsed through her body. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, and her vision wavered.
Shuren crouched in front of her, exuding a calm, almost playful demeanor, her gun resting casually on her shoulder. The soft candlelight of the café glinted off the brass of her weapon.
"You know," she started, her voice teasing yet as sharp as a knife, "I know just about everything there is to know about you."
Mischa shot her a glare, teeth clenched, but remained silent.
"An ex-assassin from Rozunebare," Shuren continued, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "After all that bloodshed and chaos, you chose to become a maid? How pathetic."
Leaning in closer, her smirk widened as she traced invisible circles in the air with the barrel of her gun.
"Serving Zheng Yan of all people… It's almost like you have feelings for him."
Mischa tightened her grip on her umbrella, her glare fierce enough to cut through steel.
"I mean, really," Shuren chuckled. "You're the same age, right? No, wait—"
She snapped her fingers.
"—you're older! Zheng Yan's seventeen, and you're eighteen."
Tilting her head, she pretended to ponder deeply.
"Well, at least that's not gross."
Her grin turned wicked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"But it's still pretty sad."
With no other option, Mischa lunged for an attack. Shuren, disgusted, caught her arm and twisted it before snapping it with a sickening crack.
Mischa screamed in agony, tears streaming down her face as Shuren seized her leg and tore it off. Her screams echoed, almost melodic in their intensity.
"Well, time for the final course, as you maids like to call it."
Shuren grabbed Mischa's face, noticing the tears spilling from her eyes, then cruelly ripped out her left eye. The room filled with her agonized screams.
"Damn, you're loud."
After all that, Shuren delivered a swift chop to Mischa's neck, and she slumped into unconsciousness.