The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

No matter how many times I rewound time, the feeling of embarrassment didn’t just disappear. It might get erased from other people’s memories, but it still remained in mine.

Well, it didn’t matter.

At least now I understood that Claire was serious, something I realized after taking her attack head-on.

Since I hadn’t revealed my true identity, Claire was likely determined to uncover it herself. The bright smile on her face made that clear.

The shock Claire displayed when I fell to the ground after her strike was probably also due to that same determination.

We hadn’t spent much time together, but Claire surely held a strong memory of me as someone who was kind to her during her most difficult times.

Moreover, to a young Claire’s eyes, I must have seemed like someone with mysterious powers. It probably felt as though I could predict the future, moving everyone around and leading them safely to the baron’s manor.

Honestly, I’d considered keeping my identity hidden for a while longer—not for any grand reason, but simply because I liked the character I had built over the past ten years. It felt like a waste to let it collapse in an instant.

However, if I avoided Claire’s attacks and ended up defeating her, she would undoubtedly realize that I was the Sylvia Black she had known back then.

...That might not be so bad.

The reunion of an older sister and younger sister, proving their bond through skill—it would make for a great moment in a story with a Japanese manga-like feel.

“...”

I slung my rifle over my back and drew my revolver.

I wrapped my finger around the trigger. The Wexler revolver was a double-action, so there was no need to cock the hammer manually.

“Alright then!”

Jennifer’s voice echoed once more.

“Begin!”

At the sound of her shout, Claire raised her sword high again—

But things didn’t unfold exactly the same as they had before, since I had switched weapons.

This time, instead of dodging Claire’s movement, I raised my arm straight ahead.

Click.

I pulled the trigger, and the hammer of the gun snapped back before hitting forward with a dull clank. There was a slight recoil, but not enough to push me back, given that the gunpowder had been removed from the rounds.

“Missed!”

Jennifer declared.

Claire had already twisted her body to the side, evading the line of fire by the time I raised my arm. She might not have the ability to see the future like me, but she had surely noticed my arm rising.

She couldn’t dodge the bullet itself, but she could adjust her posture in preparation for the shot.

In the original turn-based game, characters would simply walk up and strike. In reality, such a combat style was impossible. To engage someone wielding a gun while armed with a sword, you had to be at least this quick.

Claire moved to her left—my right—her body shifting in one fluid motion, and she raised her sword as if to shield her face with its broad side. It wasn’t that she intended to block a bullet, but rather that she was trying to maintain her stance while turning swiftly.

I turned my arm to follow her movements, but before I could aim properly, Claire was already swinging her sword.

It wasn’t that my arm was slow; it was just that Claire’s reactions were quicker than mine.

The distance between us wasn’t enough for her to strike me with her sword. The diagonal slash she performed didn’t touch me directly.

But then, just a split second later—

“Ugh...!”

I felt a heavy impact on my right shoulder, as if something had slammed down hard.

I dropped my revolver.

Again.

I took a half-step to the left.

As I aimed the gun at Claire and moved, her sword came down just a moment too late, striking the ground as sand kicked up in the air.

Click.

“Missed!”

Jennifer sounded almost gleeful.

This time, I had acted too hastily. While the revolver allowed for quick aim, its short barrel meant that even a small distance could cause the shot to miss by a fraction.

Especially when you were moving intensely and shooting with just one hand.

Before I could pull the trigger again, Claire darted to her left. Click. The revolver emitted a hollow sound, and Jennifer didn’t even bother to call out the miss—it was too obvious.

This time, Claire raised her sword high above her head.

With a whoosh, the sword sliced through the air, coming down at a terrifying speed.

Though it still wasn’t close enough to hit me directly, the follow-up shockwave from the sword aura sent sand flying into the air again.

And this time, I wasn’t able to avoid the aura.

Again.

Claire’s sword aura followed her blade like a whip, but it wasn’t as wild or freeform as the whip-like movements of the saber she used in the game. Her current swordplay was too straightforward in comparison.

Is it the nature of sword aura that prevents it from moving like a whip, or is it simply because she hasn’t mastered the technique yet? Either way, it doesn’t matter. It’s to my advantage.

Although, having to deal with two consecutive strikes was certainly annoying.

...Alright, I’ve made up my mind.

Next time, I’ll make sure to bring a short shotgun. While it might be fine for an assassination mission, in a battlefield filled with sword-wielding maniacs, the more options I have, the better.

For now, though, all I had was the revolver.

I aimed the revolver at Claire again, stepping to the left this time, supporting the hand holding the gun with my other hand.

As soon as I aimed at Claire, she moved left as well.

In this world, there were machine guns, and the best-known way to dodge them was to run in a zigzag pattern. By preventing the enemy from predicting your movements, you increased the chances of the bullets missing. Of course, only someone with highly developed physical abilities could dodge bullets like that.

But I wasn’t holding a machine gun—I had a revolver. While it could fire rapidly, a double-action revolver required a lot of pressure on the trigger, making it hard to shoot quickly. And on top of that, Claire wasn’t just swinging a sword; she was using sword aura, a long-range attack.

Alright.

Again.

It was such a minor movement, something you wouldn’t notice in the heat of battle.

But even if it was a brief moment in a fast-paced fight, if you replayed a video over and over, you’d eventually see it clearly.

I didn’t have the ability to adjust my aim precisely within such a short window.

But that wasn’t an issue.

I had an infinite number of chances to try again, to correct my mistakes, no matter how many shots it took.

I turned my gun to the left and fired at the same time.

“Missed!”

Again.

“Stop! Claire Grace, you’ve lost!”

Jennifer declared, having watched our fight closely. The other two teams were using swords, so they could probably determine the winner on their own without Jennifer's interference. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t been paying attention to them.

It wasn’t common for nobles to wield firearms.

Guns were often seen as weapons that “anyone could use.” In reality, firearms required less training than melee weapons to become proficient in. In just three months, soldiers could be trained to fight on the battlefield.

But weapons were still weapons.

And just like with any other, once you started training with firearms, the depth of skill you could attain was endless. You could calculate trajectories to hit distant targets that were difficult to reach, or quickly aim and neutralize an enemy in close combat. Even using a gun to block or strike was part of mastering firearms.

However, most soldiers who became proficient with guns didn’t learn from a great master; they honed their skills through grueling combat experience. After all, firearm training was hard to simulate without the chaos of real battle. The gun Sylvia had been using didn’t even have real gunpowder inside, so the sensation would have been different from a live firearm.

You survive, you grow stronger. That applied to every soldier who’d experienced real combat... but a fifteen-year-old kid?

Was she perhaps someone who had been destined for the Northern Front?

Or maybe, even before that, she had some reason to wield such weapons and fight for her life.

Additionally, there was something strange about Sylvia’s movements.

It was as if she already knew how Claire would swing her sword or move her body.

When Claire had tried to slash downward, Sylvia had reached out and aimed at her. When Claire brought her sword down, Sylvia calmly sidestepped.

And...

Though Sylvia might not have realized it, from Jennifer’s perspective, it looked like she was already turning her gun in the direction Claire would dodge before Claire even made her move.

Then, as Claire shifted diagonally, Sylvia fired.

Unlike the other students, whose duels were a back-and-forth of clashing swords, this match had ended in an instant.

Not that the duel had seemed easy by any means.

“Hmm.”

Jennifer found herself intrigued.

Would Sylvia going to the academy instead of heading north be a good thing for the empire, or a missed opportunity?

Nor was I in pain. Mentally, I was a bit drained, but even with the rewinding, it hadn’t taken that long in the grand scheme of things.

Still, the sensation of being struck wasn’t a pleasant one.

Had it been anyone other than Claire, I would’ve been far more irritated.

As I holstered my revolver, Claire approached me.

Despite having lost, she wore a bright, cheerful smile.

It was a lively, spirited smile. In the game, I had only ever seen Claire smile like that once—at the very end.

And back then, the “sister” she smiled at wasn’t me, but Alice.

Behind us, I could hear the clash of wooden swords. It seemed Alice and Charlotte’s match wasn’t over yet.

Step.

Claire stood before me, extending her hand as if offering a handshake.

“...”

I looked at her hand for a moment, then slowly reached out to grasp it lightly.

But it seemed I was the only one who intended a light grip—Claire firmly grasped my hand.

And then she pulled me toward her.

It wasn’t an ambush, not really. I managed not to stumble, likely because I had somewhat anticipated this happening.

As I moved closer, Claire looked me straight in the eye.

“Sister.”

Her voice was resolute.

“You’re my sister, right?”

Her eyes were already filled with certainty.

...Well.

I had expected this. If anyone would recognize me after a clean victory, it would be Claire.

That’s why she had been so surprised when I got hit earlier.

“You seem... very sure of yourself,” I said.

But Claire’s smile didn’t falter.

“I knew you would dodge like that, just like you did back then.”

The time Claire and I had spent together had been short. And that precognition-like ability I had shown her back then... it was similar to what I did now, but not quite the same. Back then, I had used it to avoid danger in advance, whereas now I was briefly rewinding time to dodge each strike.

“I looked into it afterward. Those men must have been human traffickers.”

It had been a mystery, even back then, how the orphanage had burned down with only a single victim. We had made our escape blatantly, but the surrounding area had been engulfed in flames, and the authorities had been called in chaos.

Vanished children. And the very next morning, those children appeared at the Grace baron’s residence.

If the baron and his wife hadn’t noticed something, that would’ve been strange.

“...Did you ever find those traffickers?” I asked.

The transactions happening at the count’s estate had been separate from those at the orphanage. If I had ever found that one-eyed man, I would have shot him on the spot. He wouldn’t have remembered me, but I had been beaten nearly unconscious.

Countless other children had likely died at his hands.

...Harvesting, they called it.

Had Claire survived only because they intended to sell her, or was she involved in some resurrection ritual hinted at in the game’s lore? Maybe she had just narrowly escaped a fate worse than death.

I had revealed my true identity, but Claire’s expression darkened slightly.

She shook her head.

I see.

Though that one-eyed man hadn’t been in the original game, it didn’t guarantee that he wasn’t important. He could still appear in future installments.

If he was still alive, he could have grown into a powerful figure.

“...”

I glanced around. There were quite a few people watching us. Other students, curious about our match, and Jennifer’s gaze still lingered on us.

“Claire.”

“Yes, sister?”

“...Call me Sylvia while we’re here,” I said.

Claire’s eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously.

“Revealing information carelessly can have unintended consequences. You never know how it might be used against you.”

“I understand.”

Claire nodded again, like a well-behaved child. She no longer looked like the scruffy little orphan I had met all those years ago. Her hair was neatly styled, and she wore much finer clothes now—even if it was just the academy’s military-style uniform.

She no longer looked like a child with nothing to her name.

“...”

“...”

Well, the conversation had ended, but Claire still hadn’t let go of my hand.

I wished she’d release it so we could move on with the rest of the conversation.