[ LUCKY SHOT ] INTRO-OPEN
Just one bullet. One bullet, loaded and ready, that he had no intention of ever using. His death would have no purpose here, would provide no hope in a situation where everyone was killing everyone for no greater reason than to spread despair, and so Komaeda had decided that even if someone was SHSL, if they didnât have a good reason, he would not let them kill him. Not here, not now. Maybe later.
But for the same purpose, he didnât particularly want to kill anyone. No hope would be gained by it, as he had every confidence in his ability to survive in mundane situations such as this, and killing changed nothing at all. He would rather bludgeon someone into submission and get away than actually do permanent damage, but carrying something capable of that would also be inviting attacks, and if he could go without confrontation at all, that would be best for now. He could trust his luck, forever and ever, he had no skills to use but he could always trust his luck, the only constant in his life. And so, when he needed something, he would find it. Always.
So he wasnât worried. He hadnât found anything yet, and the person pursuing him seemed pretty set on ending his worthless existence â he couldnât blame them, but now wasnât the time for that. Maybe later. For now he did his best to outrun the mask-wearing woman behind him, dodging obstacles without too much trouble, as he looked for something to use to his advantage. Nothing yet. But that was okay. If he kept going, it would come.
When a piece of wood slid under his shoe and his body hit the concrete floor of the building remnant they had been running through, Komaeda wondered just how this was going to work out. No weapon, no leverage, and his (now quickly approaching) attacker had something heavy and blunt that she seemed absolutely insistent on using to bash in his skull.
He rolled onto his back to look up at her, his voice holding an honestly apologetic tone.
âSorry, but this isnât a good time for me to die.â
She scoffed and brought what he could now see was a metal pipe down in a swift stabbing motion, sharp end down, and if her aim had been true Komaeda didnât doubt he would have been impaled quite unpleasantly. However, the flinch he managed in the time he had to react was enough, and the pipe came down against his right hip instead.
One bullet. Heâd never intended to use it, but as luck would have it, the pipe hit his concealed handgun at just the right angle to pull the trigger. And the way it was pointed, it just so happened to hit the woman in the chest â right through her heart, most likely. She slumped over instantly, her body and pipe falling to the floor in a clatter next to Komaeda.
Er. Well. That wasnât quite how Komaeda had wanted this encounter to go. But he couldnât argue with his own survival, so with a sigh he readjusted and concealed his now empty gun and picked himself up off the dirty concrete, rubbing his back where it had hit a piece of debris during his fall. He glanced back at the fresh corpse, not hiding the flash of disdain that crossed his face.
âGood riddance.â Whether he had meant it or not, every less despair-driven person in the world was one more point towards hope regaining its foothold. That kind of trash was even worse than himself, disgusting swine. âŠDisgusting ursine?
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