[Boy? Are they talking about me...]
[Yeah, Mom has taken back the backdrop.]
[She can tell just from my appearance.]
[But, does this mean...]
[Maria has already announced this to the world?]
[Even Merka knows?]
[Damn, damn...]
"Fucking Maria...!"
Turing didn't know what terrible changes were happening to his body.
Countless tentacles pierced Turing's skin, swaying like flowers and plants that longed to embrace the world.
And the hole that Dunkirk had opened under her chin with a pistol was like a drop in the bucket, gradually dissipating in Turing's swelling form.
"That's right... That's right."
"Well done, Miss."
"Focus fully on the battle."
"Discard preconceived notions."
"Break through all restraints."
"Like an angel..."
Dunkirk looked at Turing, who had easily transformed into an angel, and felt both relieved and fully focused.
Although Dunkirk knew that as an assassin, she was just a pawn secretly eliminating rebellious forces for Maria.
But Dunkirk, who had taught Joan and other children from the Agio family, never forgot the honor and sense of accomplishment she gained from education here.
Mages who require chanting undoubtedly fear agile assassins the most. It is necessary for every noble to undergo special training to face assassins.
And angels, who never need to chant spells, are perfect for being assassins.
Dunkirk, who was one of the participants in the Cuckoos Project—a semi-artificial angel—also didn't need to chant magic.
"Break through all restraints."
"Like an angel..."
Dunkirk's words exploded in Turing's mind like a water mine, their impact no less than the shock brought by the bullet just now.
A thunderbolt from a clear sky.
Turing's speed seemed to exceed time and space, the tentacles that shattered distance swept over, solidly striking Dunkirk.
But Turing swept empty.
The empty tentacles whipped against the calm water surface, like meteors falling on a large horizontal glass.
In an instant, an unreal sense of fragmentation, awe, and reverence surged forth like a tsunami.
A water prison that was whipped into the air almost drained all the surrounding waters, and an exaggerated layer of terrifying waves rose up, barely surpassing the six or seven-story hospital next to it.
"What the hell..."
Dunkirk's pupils shrank into small holes as she stared at the tentacles flying past her cheek. Just feeling the storm and soundwaves hanging above gave her a sense of lucky survival.
The gasps and explosions of lingering fright were drowned out by even more intense waves, quickly leaving the vast lake's surface.
But Dunkirk had mastered the techniques of backdrop and aside to some extent.
If Dunkirk hadn't opened the backdrop before coming, even if she had the regenerative power of an angel, she would probably have been annihilated under this blow.
However, just when Dunkirk had not reacted, Turing struck again with a punch.
At this moment, Turing seemed to have lost consciousness, but was filled with fighting spirit.
She didn't use any unnecessary body parts, but swung a simple fist towards Dunkirk.
In Dunkirk's eyes, the harbinger of dawn seemed to rise from a silent and hunched hill.
The tentacles trailing behind Turing and her strange physical structure wavered.
The mysterious shadows of her fists turned into fierce flames in the gale.
In that instant, Dunkirk saw her own demise.
------------------
"Ouch... it hurts, Maria-sama."
"Don't be afraid, Dunkirk. The excess flesh won't hurt once it's cut off."
In the cold and desolate research institute, Maria used pliers to trim Dunkirk's excess limbs, as if pruning tree branches.
------------------
"Hmm!"
Startled from her dream, Dunkirk woke up on the roof of a huge mansion.
The stone tiles underneath her armpits were causing pain.
"Huff... huff..."
Still in shock, she strained her eyes to look ahead, her pupils unfocused.
The tranquil moonlit night witnessed a confession of life and death.
Like the fragrant black beverage in a coffee cup, the broken sky carried scattered stars, gently swaying.
A girl so perfect that it could hardly be described with words was sitting on the chimney top, just within Dunkirk's line of sight.
With one leg propped up on the chimney, the other leg gently hanging down, she swayed quietly.
She was completely naked, her body natural and delicate, like a fairy in this serene forest, close to divinity.
Her flawless skin was as deep and captivating as the moonlit night before them. She embraced her knees, just like Dunkirk, quietly admiring the shimmering starry sky.
Even Dunkirk, as a woman herself, couldn't help but be entranced.
Turing: [Watch me whip you to death with a single blow.]
