Mobuseka:Leon's Adventure

He went in there, one of the assassins said, pointing toward a narrow, dark alleyway. His gaze remained focused, as if searching for the slightest movement in the shadows. The rest of the group exchanged sinister grins.

"Well, isn't that lucky," one of them chuckled, his voice restrained but tinged with malice.

"He's cornered himself," added another, smirking as he absentmindedly adjusted the weapon strapped to his belt.

"Made our job easier," a third one said thoughtfully, staring ahead. "We'll finish him in there, and no one will notice. No witnesses, and his disappearance won't be discovered right away."

With that, he stepped toward the alley, signaling the others to follow. Their movements were quick and silent, as if they were merging with the surrounding darkness. However, one of them suddenly stopped, frowning.

"Something's off," he said in a hushed voice. "That Leon… he's a viscount. Why is he alone? Where are his bodyguards?"

The other assassins froze, their eyes meeting in a brief, silent exchange of thoughts.

"Some poor nobles can't afford guards," one speculated with a shrug. "But he's rich. Filthy rich."

"Maybe he's just arrogant," another chimed in, his tone mocking but tinged with envy. "They say he's achieved a lot for someone his age. Though, come to think of it, it's probably because of those lost relics. Without his armor, I'm sure he's nothing but a weakling."

"Yeah," another agreed, clenching his fists. "We've seen his type before. Success makes them blind. He's walked right into his own trap."

Concluding their musings, one of them turned to the group and gave a cold command:

"Four of you, take the rooftops. Keep him in your sights and wait for the right moment to strike. The rest will follow him on the ground. Move fast and quiet."

Without further words, the team began to execute the order. Four figures climbed onto the surrounding rooftops with the agility of seasoned predators. Their movements were silent and precise, almost mechanical. They carried only melee weapons—daggers, short swords, throwing knives—but in their hands, they were instruments of death.

On the ground, the rest of the group advanced toward their target. Four of them were armed with rifles, while the remaining eight carried melee weapons. Their footsteps, though slightly louder, barely disturbed the silence of the alley.

---

Ahead, in the deepening twilight, Leon's figure was barely visible. He moved unhurriedly, almost lazily, making it difficult for his pursuers to track him. But in his hand glinted a metallic object—a massive Desert Eagle pistol, its design and size immediately drawing attention.

"That weapon seems rather impractical for this situation," a voice suddenly remarked, dripping with light sarcasm. It came from a levitating sphere, camouflaged as a dim reflection of light on the wall. This was Luxion, the artificial intelligence accompanying Leon.

"I know," Leon replied curtly, pointing the pistol toward the movement in the alley. His voice was calm, but a trace of caution lingered. "I'm no firearms expert, but I agree it's not exactly convenient."

"Then why did you choose it, master?" Luxion pressed on, as if oblivious to the tension in the air.

Leon smirked, revealing a sharp, almost predatory grin.

"Because it's powerful. And… I've always wanted to fire it."

Without waiting for further commentary, he pulled the trigger.

---

The deafening blast shattered the alley's silence. Moments later, a dull thud echoed as one of the assassins on the rooftop fell. His face contorted in agony, and his arm—bearing a massive, bloody hole—hung limply. The man writhed on the ground, gasping in pain.

"First," Leon whispered, watching through the sight.

---

The assassins on the rooftops froze before retreating, trying to stay out of Leon's line of sight.

"What the hell was that?" one of them muttered, keeping his voice low.

"Looks like one of ours got hit," another replied grimly, gripping his throwing knives tightly.

"Already? That means he knew we were here," a third hissed, grinding his teeth.

"Seems like it," the fourth murmured. Then he added, "We wait. Let the ground team engage him first. Then we strike."

---

On the ground, the group of twelve also halted when they heard the gunshot and their ally's cries. They froze, spotting their downed comrade. His condition was grave—he was alive but incapacitated.

"Damn it! This place is too narrow," one of them said, scanning their surroundings. "We don't even know where he is! Quickly, take cover behind anything you can!"

His words were cut short by another gunshot. The bullet struck his hand, knocking the rifle from his grip. Along with the weapon, he lost his index and middle fingers. He fell to his knees, letting out a muffled scream:

"My fingers!"

"Second," Leon whispered again, aiming at the next targets.

---

The remaining three riflemen immediately opened fire in the direction they thought Leon was. Meanwhile, the assassins with melee weapons prepared to charge.

But they underestimated him.

Three quick shots followed. The first bullet struck a marksman's knee, sending him crashing to the ground with a scream of pain. The second and third bullets found their marks among the melee fighters, forcing them to fall.

"What kind of weapon…? The pain is unbearable!" one of the wounded cried, clutching his bleeding wound.

More shots rang out. Another assassin was hit, and silence once again cloaked the alley.

"Third… fourth… fifth… sixth," Leon muttered, watching as his enemies fell one by one.

---

As the pistol emptied, Leon began to reload but noticed one of the melee fighters rushing toward him.

"Noticed I'm out of bullets, huh?" Leon said to himself with a wry grin, stepping back.

"Why aren't you shooting, master?" Luxion asked, observing the scene intently.

Without answering, Leon grabbed the sphere and hurled it like a baseball, shouting:

"Luxion, I choose you!"

---

Still in stealth mode, Luxion went unnoticed as it hurtled toward the attacker. When the sphere struck him in the stomach, the man doubled over in pain and collapsed. His attempt to shout a warning turned into a painful cough.

Leon raised a triumphant fist in the air.

"Victory is mine!"

Luxion, now back at his side, spoke in a tone that bordered on exasperation:

"What was that, master?"

Leon looked at him with a serious expression.

"That… was revenge. For everything you've done."

---

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