Chapter 876: December 20th: Riot is the Spokesperson for the Nameless, Raging Masses Exposed to an Absurd Reality, and the Fangs that Gleam Suspiciously Beneath that Black Veil [Thirst for] Evil Blood... (Omitted Below)
In the first place, something like assassination is just turning "killing a guy you don't like" into a two-kanji compound word. Even just laying a kitchen knife's blade sideways and aiming for the heart makes for a splendid assassination; what matters is the Killing Intent.
Beating them to a pulp and whittling their HP down to nothing in three seconds. It's far too easy... Human HP is far too fragile compared to Crystal Scorpions. Fundamentally, PvP in this game does not consider "punching while being punched" as a valid approach.
Therefore, against me, who had drawn back my fist to execute the muscle-brained plan of whittling him down before he could heal, the action Riot took was exactly what one should call the optimal move...
"...Surrender."
"Whoaaa!?"
Without hesitation, an intention to surrender spoken the moment his body stiffened. Because of that, my fist, the perpetrator's, stopped right at the very last second.
"...I'd appreciate it if you surrendered with a bit more leeway."
"...Anything more than this isn't worth the cost."
Not worth the cost...? Ah, so that's how it is.
"I wouldn't mind it over here. Even if I forced you to lay bare every single trump card, hidden ball, second blade, silver bullet, and secret stash...!"
"..............."
For someone wanting to be in the assassination business, laying everything bare under the watchful eyes of the masses like this would be the height of folly. I doubt he was holding back, but there might have still been some skill or magic he wanted to keep hidden.
Or, perhaps he simply didn't want to be stained with the blemish of "a black star on his first campaign."
"Well, whatever. Rules are rules; if you surrender, I'll let you go back alive. Besides..."
I darted my gaze for just a moment toward that, which had been bothering me from the very beginning, before letting out a sigh, phew.
"Because you can't avenge an attempted murder."
"..............."
Because murder had been justified in the name of a righteous war to prove royal authority, I couldn't use the anti-PK specialized Avenger skills on Riot in his self-proclaimed assassin state.
Riot, whose name display lacked even a single shred of red, set off a smokescreen while radiating a highly complicated atmosphere... and when the smoke cleared, no one was there.
"...Well, wouldn't an assassin who knows when to pull back live a long time?"
◇
Returning to his hideout via teleportation magic from the smokescreen, Riot dove headfirst into a low-quality bed (self-made, prioritizing atmosphere over functionality) and let out words like a groan.
"Hardcore players are too stroooong〜........."
Riot's ambition of "the magnificent first campaign of a highly mysterious, aesthete-type handsome vampire assassin wrapped in a black veil" had its legs swept out from under it by the PK nullification during the event period and a miniskirt maid darting around at the speed of light, resulting in a spectacular fall, an indescribable start.
"Landing an attack that pierces through a smokescreen that crushes three senses seriously makes no sense! And suddenly changing into light clothing! And blowing a person away with a punch!!"
I see, it is certainly true that he got greedy and tried to challenge a player who is highly... highly famous in ShanFro, hoping to snatch a win if possible. But as it turned out, every single "killing technique" he had specialized for anti-player combat was broken through, or couldn't even be deployed in the first place, resulting in him exposing a disgraceful display.
Truth be told, he did have a "trump card" that could have turned the tables even from that final stunned state. However───
"A clash where everything is laid bare, or a sweaty brawl, is not what I want for 'Riot'〜〜!"
───Assassinations must be swift.
Strangely enough, it was a fact that the words of the explosive-speed miniskirt maid, who seemed the furthest thing from the concept of assassination, constituted the most important matter in forming "Riot, the spokesperson for the raging masses."
Reverting his intentionally lowered voice back to its natural pitch, Riot writhed around on the shoddy bed, faithful to the shallow setting of "as long as I can sleep, it's fine", and unhesitatingly shouted the words he had almost yelled countless times during his roleplay.
"It's a sound argument! I have no counterarguments! But it pisses me off being told that by that!!"
The fact that he was admonished by a B-movie Hollywood-esque existence that looked like it would eventually roll the end credits with a massive explosion in the background.
For Riot, who had poured his heart and soul into ShanFro to manifest a highly mysterious, master assassin character with his own hands, that fact was a humiliation worse than defeat...
◆
Hmm, strangely enough, the realization that I beat Riot is starting to hit me with a time delay.
No matter how you looked at him, he was the type to prioritize an artistic defeat over a lame victory. Forcing him into a retreat like that might actually be a more effective win than just whittling his HP down to zero.
Well, I feel like I'd already won the moment I dragged it into a mixed martial arts-style brawl... But it'd be a problem if I bullied him too much and he became a stalker. If he stalked me by normally aiming for my cervical spine from above and stabbing me with a knife, I might seriously get assassinated eventually. I've already proven to myself that if you repeat that in a dense, overgrown forest, you'll eventually get the kill.
First, respect other people's roleplay. If it causes actual harm, just chop their head off.
"But that was close... The maid outfit almost burst right off me."
"...Isn't it the same either way if you just take it off yourself?"
With "Eternity" taken off and me now in an unequipped state, the next challenger hopeful throws in a retort with a timid demeanor. What an idiot, exposing an unequipped state and having custom-made armor burst to become half-naked are as different as heaven and earth.
"As for equipment... ah, whatever, this is the one I have the most spares for anyway."
"A b-bunny suit... Are you looking down on me, by any chance?"
"Looking down? Ah, you mean doing a disrespectful play. You seem to be misunderstanding something... Basically, my base VIT is in the single digits, so if I take about three hits I'll die, and since my character build doesn't rely on armor effects, whatever I wear is just a 'bonus'."
When I mentioned single-digit VIT, I felt like the surroundings buzzed for some reason... But an evasion tank is just like that. Stubbornly refusing to invest in VIT is like a bit of a Kejime to me, though.
"So what you and the challengers following you need to do is incredibly simple... Hit me three times, before you die."
I revealed a bit too much of my hand, but conversely, you could say the number of cards I can play without hesitation has increased.
Once I shift gears into the speed of light, let's blast right through.
Author's Afterword
Q. What was the trump card?
A. There is a skill unique to the Dragon-Blood Vampire race that can be used by consuming the Blood-Sucking Gauge; if he had fully utilized it, he would have at least avoided the "checkmate" at that point in time.
That being said, continuing the battle from there would have required fighting while chugging stocked blood bottles, which conflicted with his interpretation that "such a sweaty fighting style is a mischaracterization." Furthermore, even though feeding during combat is inherently the basic tactic of a Dragon-Blood Vampire build, he restricted himself by deciding "Riot hides the fact that he's a Dragon-Blood Vampire, so he absolutely wouldn't suck blood in public!!", so the only way to survive on that board was to surrender.
Or rather, he was already checkmated the moment he used his assassination action, where the first strike is more important than anything else, for a roleplay where he pointed his blade at Saina's neck.
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