Even Gauss had to admit the thought was bold—but in the back of his mind, it also felt possible.
After all, this was power from the world's rules. If it could elevate things into concepts beyond common sense, then "unavoidable hits" didn't sound completely impossible.
He forced down his excitement and kept testing.
He discovered that, perhaps because the fragment had been fully "housed" by his body, even though he couldn't comprehend its true nature, he could still wield a portion of its might.
Objectively speaking, the way he used it was far weaker in short-term burst than the kobold chieftain's amplification.
But there was a difference between being full once… and being full every day.
The kobold's method had been a "last meal" style of use.
It not only burned its own life force, it also wore down and damaged the Precision fragment itself.
Gauss was different. When he used it, he suffered almost no side effects.
At the moment, what the fragment could do in Gauss's hands was essentially "auto-aim target-lock" to a certain degree—while also making any action he performed feel smoother, more natural, more effortless.
Thinking of that, he couldn't help sighing.
If the kobold hadn't wasted so much power at the end, Gauss might have absorbed even more Divine Favor.
It wouldn't be 2.65%—it might've been 3%, or even 4%.
That thing really deserved to die.
Gauss shook his head, the more he thought, the angrier he got.
After experiencing the power of rule-force for a while, he understood more.
Clearly, world rule-power was, for most beings, basically a lethal poison.
It seemed tied to Divine Favor in a hard-to-explain way.
It seemed that rule-power could only be used "correctly" by beings like him—beings who already possessed at least some Divine Favor.
And he suspected Divine Favor was only the most basic threshold.
The power of his Adventurer's Manual seemed to help restrain and stabilize that force. Otherwise, even he would have suffered some backlash—just not as catastrophically as the kobold chieftain.
"It looks like I might be the person in this world best suited to collecting these rule-forces."
Gauss sat beneath a tree.
If these powers fell into the hands of evil humans or monsters, it would be hard to sleep at night.
Strength that defied common sense always demanded an enormous price. He had the Manual to rein in rule-power… but if some other creature happened to seize it, what would they use to control the fallout?
He thought of the kobold chieftain's last moments—greedy and nearly insane, as if it would sacrifice everything just to keep that candle.
Maybe rule-power even warped the wielder's mind.
Fortunately…
That Precision power ultimately ended up in the hands of him—a civilized person.
…
Elsewhere in the Blackwater Town region, inside a temporary camp:
Over a hundred people moved between rows of tents.
So many humans in a valley that had already become monster territory looked out of place—until you noticed the unified wolf-beast banners hanging around.
This was an adventuring company exploring the wilderness.
And not just any company: Fang of the Gray Wolf, a name with some weight even in Falrim. Not one of the top giants, but firmly second-tier—many members, many strong fighters.
At the center, in front of the most luxurious domed tent, a spellcaster in black-and-gold robes lifted the curtain and stepped out.
"You're here? What is it?"
Inside the tent, Wolf—who had met Gauss once—paused his work calmly when he saw the visitor.
Beside him, Deputy Captain Luna and her aide also turned to look.
"Wolf, I've received an extremely valuable piece of intel."
"Speak."
The visitor grinned.
"Captain really is impatient, huh? Fine—I won't tease it out. My people found the trail of Red Dragon Company."
"Red Dragon Company…" Wolf fixed his gaze on Ezra Fisher.
This wasn't the first time Fisher had brought up Red Dragon Company and Gauss. In fact, Wolf had first heard of them because of Fisher.
"Didn't I tell you to stop paying attention to them?"
After meeting Gauss in Grayrock Town, Wolf had realized Gauss was no ordinary threat.
Investigating a powerful adventurer—and a company leader—risked conflict if discovered.
Wolf didn't want to create an unknown, mysterious enemy for his team, so he'd ordered Fisher to stop digging into Gauss and refocus on Fang of the Gray Wolf's route planning and tense rival teams.
He hadn't expected Fisher to keep tracking them anyway.
Wolf's brows tightened.
"Wolf, he's worth investigating. Red Dragon Company's leader, Gauss—he gained his current strength far too fast. There must be secrets."
"Even setting that aside, the red dragon mount is extraordinary."
"This is a lawless zone. If we take them down, the spoils would be beyond imagination."
"Now that we have their position, we can strike anytime."
As he finished, Fisher licked his lips and watched Wolf closely, trying to hook him.
Wolf's eyes did flicker with temptation—but only for a moment before reason crushed it.
Wolf exchanged a look with the other two, then shook his head.
"No need to invite trouble."
"That Red Dragon leader's strength is not as simple as you think."
Fisher's face darkened.
"Wolf, you're too soft."
"He's just a Level 7 spellcaster. Fang of the Gray Wolf as a whole is far stronger than Red Dragon Company…"
"At his growth rate, if we miss this chance, we'll regret it."
Wolf's patience thinned.
"Enough. Don't bring it up again."
He sighed, forcing his tone calmer.
"Go back to work. Our priority is the next hunt. Your job is heavy."
"As for now—I have business to discuss with Luna."
"I understand." Fisher forced a smile, then bowed and withdrew.
"Wolf…" Luna looked worried after Fisher left.
Fisher was a newer addition to the company—yet because of talent, strength, and results, he'd risen quickly and now led intelligence.
It was a critical position.
And anyone paying attention could see his ambition—barely concealed.
"Fisher's getting bolder."
This wasn't the first time he'd acted on his own.
"I know," Wolf said.
"But for all his ambition, his intelligence work is flawless. He's just impatient sometimes."
"And besides—I'm stronger than he is."
Wolf's confidence was steady.
He was a Level 10 warrior, and like his company's name, he possessed a special bloodline. Even among Level 10 fighters, he was a monster.
Fisher had only recently reached Level 9—and he was a spellcaster.
Wolf was a bloodline warrior. If things went wrong, he believed he could put Fisher down fast.
And in the end, Fang of the Gray Wolf was his company.
That was why he tolerated Fisher's hunger for power: ambition wasn't inherently bad, and Fisher's drive made the team's operations clean and effective.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow."
Wolf returned to the earlier topic.
…
Fisher retreated into his own tent.
He set up an isolation ward with practiced speed.
"Captain Fisher—what did Wolf say?" Several men hurried up.
"He refused." Fisher shook his head, sneering.
"Wolf has changed. He's indecisive now."
"A brat scared him stiff."
"I gave him a chance, out of old sentiment, to do great things together."
"But he's no longer fit to lead us."
"Tonight. We act."
"Yes." "Yes."
They left.
Fisher murmured to himself, almost gently:
"I gave you a chance."
Night fell.
As the camp settled into silence—only the sentries moving—everything seemed calm.
Then—
"AHHH!!!"
A furious roar ripped through the night.
People jolted awake.
Many recognized the voice at once.
It was their Captain Wolf.
Something happened.
Panic flooded through the camp.
People threw on clothes and rushed outside.
"Did something happen to the captain?"
"What's going on?"
Sentries raised their voices fast:
"Everyone—calm down! Deputy Captain Luna and Captain Fisher, along with other leaders, have already gone to check! Wait for news!"
The crowd steadied, barely.
They could only wait.
Still, eyes kept turning toward the camp's center.
An ominous presence seemed to rise there—like a powerful monster had arrived.
Angry roars and strange screams echoed.
Then, after several surges of violent pressure—
Everything went quiet.
"Is it over?"
"Did they kill the enemy?"
"Did the captain win?"
Unease remained, but the lack of further attack let people cling to hope.
Not long after, everyone was ordered to gather before the main tent.
Fisher stood at the front, face heavy, grief and hesitation worn perfectly—like a man forcing himself to speak.
He sighed and announced:
"Everyone… I regret to deliver tragic news."
"Captain Wolf has been murdered."
The camp exploded.
"The captain is dead?!"
"He's that strong—how could he die like this?"
"That's impossible!"
People's pupils tightened in shock.
The earlier disturbance hadn't sounded like a fight big enough to kill Wolf.
In their minds, if an outsider had killed him, the whole camp should've been torn apart—not almost intact like this.
"Even I can't believe it," Fisher continued.
Then he ordered Wolf's body brought out—carried on a stretcher.
The tall warrior lay utterly still, skin pale as wax.
Veteran members checked.
No pulse. No breath.
He was dead.
"The killer was Luna," Fisher said.
"When we arrived, the captain was already gone. She fled with a few traitors."
Shock again.
"Deputy Captain Luna has followed Wolf for years—how could it be her?"
Some protested.
"It was her," another team leader said sharply.
"I saw her using flight magic to escape."
"We were too late."
Other leaders nodded in agreement.
Someone tried to argue, but a companion grabbed them—shut them down.
Most people were simply lost.
They didn't understand the upper ranks well, but if multiple leaders swore it, then it must be true.
"Brothers," one leader roared, "we must avenge Captain Wolf!"
"But we can't be leaderless. Fisher is the strongest among us— I nominate him as our new captain!"
Voices rose immediately.
"I agree!"
"Captain Fisher saved my life—I'll follow him!"
Fisher lifted his head, eyes red, like a man battling his conscience.
Then he spoke, voice thick:
"If you insist… I'll shoulder this duty—for now."
"But understand: I am only acting captain."
"After we hunt down Luna and the traitors and avenge Wolf—if someone better stands up, I will step aside."
As he spoke, his eyes slid over a few faces in the crowd—people who remained unmoved.
He quietly memorized them.
Now, Fang of the Gray Wolf finally belonged to him.
His thoughts drifted to the one he saw as the true culprit behind Wolf's death:
Gauss.
But before dealing with Gauss, he'd handle the old veterans who might resist, and he'd cut down the runaways.
He was desperate to know what secret Gauss carried.
Whatever it was, he believed he would be the one laughing in the end.
Because if Gauss was the monster-slayer…
Then Fisher's power was suited to become the monster-slayer's slayer—the natural counter that would end him.
…
"Haa—"
Gauss yawned as he stepped out of the house.
"Didn't sleep well?"
"Probably yesterday's fight burned too much mana," Gauss said, shaking his head.
"Captain, would you like an anti-anxiety draught?" Ivan somehow popped out of nowhere, offering a vial.
"Thanks." Gauss accepted without hesitation.
That was the advantage of having a dedicated alchemist.
Low-tier potions could be popped like water.
After this operation, it was time to get Ivan access to higher-tier formulas.
And with Proof of Leadership influencing loyalty, Gauss wasn't worried about Ivan running off with recipes.
Besides—Gauss trusted his own judgment of people.