MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 411: Gunslinger [Ko-Fi Bonus - ]

With an abrupt twist, Anthony's body lunged into motion, gliding forward with impossible grace, boots skimming across a fragment of stone that floated barely upright.

He leaned into a spin, both guns raised.

Bang.

A bullet of compressed lightning laced through the eye socket of a snarling beast.

The creature convulsed midair before detonating, brain matter and bone shards spraying out in a halo.

Bang.

Bang.

Fire mana burst from the second barrel, two bullets dancing, curving, arcing behind him as he twisted in a midair somersault, passing inches above a talon that sought to eviscerate him.

The flaming bullets spiraled midair before slamming into the torso of a massive brute attempting to leap from a higher landmass.

The creature didn't land, it fell, the center of its chest gone, devoured by infernal combustion.

Anthony's eyes shimmered, crimson and cool, not out of emotion, but exhilaration.

He darted through falling debris, shoulder rolling beneath a descending chunk of rubble, vaulting from a splintered pillar, using its weightless rotation to propel himself higher.

Three abominations surged to meet him midair.

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Click.

The left gun's magazine ejected with a hiss, flipping into the air.

In the same motion, Anthony snapped open his coat's side pocket, kicked upward from a floating shard of architecture, and hurled a new magazine into the air.

His body spun.

As he twirled, the gun aligned itself, 'clack', the new magazine slid in seamlessly, guided by finesse alone.

A burst of mana-flame thundered from the barrel.

The first abomination's face incinerated, just as Anthony planted his boot on its falling shoulder to vault higher.

He twisted again, dodging black tentacles that tore through the sky.

The second monstrosity lunged, only to meet the muzzle of Anthony's second gun.

He pressed the barrel into its yawning mouth and smiled.

Bang.

Skull matter burst outward like a ruined blossom, shrouding Anthony in red haze.

He didn't flinch.

His trajectory bent, and with divine footwork, he landed delicately on a needle-thin spire of rock.

He barely paused, only long enough to adjust his collar.

A cluster of ten surged from below, claws flashing, fangs gnashing in discordant hunger.

Anthony twirled his guns once more, channels of mana running down the sides, altering bullet properties with each spin.

His eyes flicked, calculating angles, distances, timings.

And then he danced.

Not a retreat.

A symphony of forward momentum, bullets whistling with whorls of wind mana as he dashed sideways across a crumbling bridge.

One bullet curved backward, slicing into a creature behind him, piercing a throat with surgical precision.

The others exploded in chain reactions, wind detonations rupturing the air and throwing the abominations off balance.

He moved through them like a whisper.

One gun rained a volley of mana-infused bullets, each with altered density and trajectory.

A creature three meters away exploded from the inside, blood flooding from eyes and ears as the compressed sound-mana bullet detonated in its skull.

Another fell as Anthony curved a shadow mana bullet beneath its rib cage, the projectile snaking around an obstacle before piercing the heart from below.

He flipped backward, unloading the last two bullets at point-blank into twin creatures converging on him from opposite angles.

Fire and lightning.

The resulting shockwave scattered their limbs into the sky like discarded meat.

And as he descended, his coat trailing behind him like a silken flame, the grin returned, calm, unfaltering.

He landed on the chest of a titan-class monstrosity that had risen from beneath.

Ten meters tall, its roars drowned even the shrieking void winds.

Anthony looked upward, the guns in his hands still faintly smoking.

The abomination raised its hand, an arm thick as stone, scarred with runes of chaos and dripping malformed energy.

Anthony tilted his head, sighed once, and knelt, resting both guns on one knee.

A subtle snap of his fingers.

The magazines ejected.

He didn't look as he tossed new ones into the air, hands holstering the guns backward as the magazines clicked into place midair with uncanny precision.

Then he rose, eyes burning with anticipation.

The guns shimmered, lines glowing deep azure.

Mana bullets of pure darkness erupted, fired in succession so fast they appeared as a single, spiraling beam.

They drilled through the giant's skull like a celestial spear.

The giant staggered, reeling, its entire head vaporized.

Anthony was already gone, vaulting off the collapsing corpse as if using it as a stepping stone.

He soared, spun midair, and landed atop a tilting wall of ancient stone.

Dozens more monstrosities emerged from the periphery.

And he smiled again.

Then moved again.

Not with urgency, but elegance, every shift of his body carved from instinct and supreme control.

He stepped from the crumbling ledge and descended not like prey, but like judgment itself.

While midair, he angled his guns downward and squeezed both triggers.

Twin streams of bullets whistled through the void, not fired, unleashed, a storm of mana-forged retribution.

One stream ignited with fire, scorching everything in its spiral.

The other weaved like a serpent, each shadow bullet phasing through flesh only to rupture inside.

Anthony twirled once as he landed, feet gliding over a beast's armored shoulder.

His heel drove down, crushing its clavicle, and as it shrieked upward, he twisted and fired a bullet straight into its eye.

Bang.

The abomination toppled, spasming.

He didn't watch it fall.

He was already spinning, weaving through limbs and slashing claws.

He ducked beneath a swipe, vaulted over another, and slid across a slope of fallen debris, the length of his slide marked by curved bullet trails that pierced five skulls in succession.

From his coat, another magazine soared skyward.

Mid-slide, he threw both guns upward.

His hands caught the fresh magazines as they descended.

He tossed one across his back shoulder and, with exquisite timing, angled the spinning gun's chamber into its path.

Click.

Perfect.

The other he reloaded in a backward twist, flipping it into his palm without even glancing.

The twin muzzles flashed with cerulean brilliance, one imbued with wind mana, the other with lightning.

He dashed sideways, ran up the back of a massive beast mid-leap, flipped backward in a full aerial spin, and rained down bullets like divine wrath.

Each shot curved, ricocheted, or detonated on impact.

One bullet split into three midair.

Another pierced a creature's mouth and burst from its spine.

A third circled the long neck of a serpentine abomination before imploding inside its throat, reducing it to pulp.

He landed kneeling, backward.

A momentary breath.

Another wave approached.

This time, dozens.

Converging. Every form of hideousness this void could birth, now rushing at him in unified desperation.

Tentacles, claws, twisted jaws filled with rows of inverted teeth.

Anthony stood, flicked blood from his cheek, and smiled.

The guns vanished.

In their place, his katana.

Mana laced around the blade like liquid starlight.

His movements remained just as elegant, just as fluid.

A single step propelled him forward, the blade humming with anticipation.

One horizontal slash.

Effortless.

A ripple spread outward, a silver wave that cleaved not flesh but existence itself.

It passed through thirty bodies.

None screamed. None moved.

Until they all fell.

Limbs detached.

Heads rolled.

Black blood erupted like fountains.

Before their remains touched the ground, the guns reappeared in his hands.

He twirled one, mid-stride, and snapped a new magazine in with a single graceful twist of his wrist.

The other, he tossed into the air, leapt upward, spun, and let the descending gun align with a fresh magazine that he'd hurled skyward.

Clack.

He fired mid-rotation, annihilating the remaining stalkers approaching from behind.

Then he landed on a beast's shoulder and fired a bullet straight downward, into its chest cavity.

The bullet detonated as if a small sun had burst within its body.

It exploded, flesh scattering, shockwave hurling rubble in every direction.

Anthony landed among the chaos, completely untouched.

Not even a speck of blood reached his skin.

He stood in silence.

Only two remained.

Enormous.

Armored in chitin and layered muscle.

Eyes glowing with dark intelligence.

Smarter, stronger, beasts forged of hate and decay essence.

They growled.

One charged.

The other waited, its back coiling like a spring.

Anthony exhaled slowly and holstered one gun.

From beneath his coat, he drew a small vial of mana, twisting open the seal and pouring it into the chamber of his remaining gun.

The barrel pulsed red, black, and gold.

He walked toward them.

The first beast leapt. It roared, its maw wide enough to swallow three men whole.

Anthony didn't run.

He stepped left.

One step.

Enough to pass just beside it.

He raised the gun.

And fired.

The bullet entered just beneath the beast's jaw.

The moment it reached its skull, it expanded, splintered, multiplied into a fractal of miniature detonations, each laced with darkness and blood mana.

The creature's head exploded into a swarm of crimson petals.

Not a roar.

Not a twitch.

Just silence and blooming gore.

The second beast hesitated.

Too late.

Anthony leapt, twisting midair, landing on its back with featherlight ease.

He walked along its spine, perfectly balanced.

It bucked and howled.

He didn't fall.

He didn't stagger.

He knelt, leaned down, and placed the muzzle of his gun directly against the back of its skull.

A whisper.

"Goodnight"

Bang.

The final creature's eyes widened in sudden stillness.

Then, slowly, it collapsed forward, limp.

Anthony stood atop it, both guns hanging loosely in his grip.

The battlefield quieted.

Only the whisper of wind over shattered ruins remained.

All around him, corpses.

Burned, ruptured, mutilated.

A carpet of monsters, each killed with grace and precision.

And Anthony?

He hadn't taken a single scratch.

He looked at the twin guns in his hands.

Smiled.

"…Not bad"

With a flick of his wrists, the guns vanished in a pulse of light.

And Anthony walked forward, calm, composed, as if none of it had been a battle.

Only a performance.

A dance.