The ruins in Sector F-02 grew quieter the deeper I went in.

  Most of the remaining scrap was just small pieces. Loose bolts, short wires, sensor casings.

  Nothing expensive, but Reina managed to scan a few still worth taking.

  "Two meters to your left. Behind that steel plate is an old drone frame."

  I picked it up and stuffed it into my bag.

  My steps continued. My breathing was steady. My stomach still ached a bit, but it was manageable.

  Then… that sound again.

  Metallic growls. Mechanical breath.

  A mechanical wolf.

  One. Again.

  I frowned. “Weird. Why only one?”

  “The last one was also alone,” Reina replied softly.

  “They usually travel in packs. At least four or five.”

  “Could be luck?”

  “Could be a trap.”

  But there was no point overthinking it. One more target. One more core.

  Reina floated lower. “Need my help?”

  I raised my weapon. “I need the practice. So, no.”

  Reina sighed. “Don’t waste bullets.”

  I aimed. Took a breath. Pulled the trigger.

  Bang!

  The first shot hit its mouth. Not fatal, but it staggered.

  The wolf growled. Eyes glowed. Engines kicked in. It charged at me.

  I shot again. Bang!

  Hit its body, but still not down.

  One more. Bang!

  Right in the eye. It fell, slid, but its body still moved.

  Without hesitation, I ran closer.

  A jump. My left hand pinned its head, my right yanked the neck aside—metal cracked loudly.

  Silence.

  It stopped moving.

  Reina stared at me for a moment. “…That’s not a bad manual technique.”

  I exhaled, looking down at the dead machine. “Well, some hand practice doesn’t hurt.”

  As the metallic cracking stopped, I crouched and began dismantling the wolf’s head.

  Carefully, I opened its skull casing and pulled out the core—still weakly pulsing.

  Blue. Stable. Still valuable.

  I put it in the bag.

  Two cores today.

  I ejected my magazine and counted.

  “Used 3… 9 bullets left now.”

  Three bullets for one wolf. Too wasteful.

  “Guess that’s enough collecting for today,” I muttered.

  Two cores, a few small scraps. Enough to survive. Maybe.

  Nine bullets left for the trip home.

  If I run into monsters, I’ll shoot while fleeing.

  If the way’s clear, I can use them again tomorrow.

  In a world like this, saving bullets is saving life.

  But my thoughts were suddenly shattered.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Reina shouted, “Arche! Two heat signatures approaching from northwest!”

  “What?”

  “Roughly fifty meters. Likely humans. Both heavily armed. Fully equipped.”

  I immediately stood and ran back the way I came.

  “No way full-geared scavengers would enter a beginner zone like this.”

  Reina zipped beside me, her digital eyes flashing. “They’re tracking you. Now 42 meters… and closing fast.”

  “Two fully-geared scavengers entering an empty sector…? This isn’t random.”

  I ran faster, weaving through ruined corridors.

  If I was right—this wasn’t about scrap anymore.

  My steps pounded debris. My breath grew heavy.

  The echo of boots on cracked concrete bounced through the dead buildings.

  I leapt over a gap, slid down a mound of sand, and kept running at full speed.

  “Reina, status?”

  “Still chasing. Now just thirty meters behind. Gaining.”

  I shoved a large chunk of metal into the path behind me.

  CRASH!

  It slammed into a concrete pile.

  “They’re still gaining. Even faster.”

  Damn it.

  I kept knocking over anything I could to block their way—steel plates, chunks of concrete, even rusted barrels.

  Nothing worked.

  “No way they’re chasing me just to ask directions, right?”

  “With that kind of gear? Makes no sense.”

  “Are they…?”

  Reina paused. “One likely explanation. Beginner Hunters.”

  I growled. “Damn it…”

  Beginner Hunters. Scavengers too scared to die but desperate to live.

  So they hunt other beginners. Stealing their scrap, their cores, and everything they can take.

  “I only have two small cores and some light scraps…”

  “And nine bullets.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  Nine bullets.

  For two heavily armed enemies?

  Chances were slim.

  “Arche! Dodge!!” Reina shouted.

  I jumped sideways.

  CRACK!

  A shot hit exactly where I’d been.

  Concrete shards flew everywhere.

  I landed hard behind a pile of rubble, hands shaking.

  “Reina… they’re shooting to kill.”

  “I figured. That almost hit your head.”

  Footsteps crunched through debris ahead.

  Then a man’s voice. Rough. Casual. Cold.

  “For a beginner… not bad dodging my shot.”

  I stayed silent, gripping my weapon.

  “I don’t know how, but if you hand over all your scrap… I’ll spare your life.”

  “Reina… positions?”

  “Open area: one target moving slowly—he’s the one talking. The other’s circling around behind you. Right side. Likely ambush from your blind spot.”

  I clenched my teeth.

  “Arche… they’re serious.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  The man spoke again.

  “I’ll say this once more.”

  His tone sharpened.

  “Throw over your bag. If I don’t see it in ten seconds… I’ll take it from your corpse.”

  Reina hovered low. “He’s not joking.”

  I breathed slowly.

  They knew my position. Likely using a portable radar and heat detector. Full weapons. Light armor. Coordination. Not amateurs.

  And even if I threw my bag now… no guarantee they’d let me live.

  Reina whispered. “Firmament’s still far.”

  “About three kilometers.”

  “If we fight?”

  “Has to be reckless. Nine bullets. Must save. Must be fast.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment. Focused.

  Fight. Flee. Survive.

  Only those three options.

  “Reina,” I whispered from behind the rubble. “If the fight stays at range… odds of winning?”

  “Four percent. And that’s if they’re half-blind.”

  “Close combat?”

  “Twelve percent. But on paper. With your current condition… still uncertain.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “Take over. I’m giving you my body.”

  “Hah… So it’s my turn now?”

  “And don’t forget. They’re human. Not machines. We have one edge—magic.”

  “Understood,” Reina replied.

  My body stiffened. Then… full control shifted to Reina.

  My hands moved on their own. Breathing changed. Movements became lighter, more controlled.

  Reina began chanting. Digital spell code echoed in my ears.

  “Basic Neural Transmission Formula: Acceleration.”

  A soft silver light wrapped around the body. Then vanished. My body felt lighter. Sharper.

  Without hesitation, Reina moved toward the man standing in the open.

  “He’s out!” the man shouted. “Shit! He dropped his weapon?! Gonna fight barehanded!?”

  Too late to think.

  Reina struck his chest. Rapid punches. Precise.

  Targeting unarmored spots.

  One. Two. Three.

  Shoulder joint, under ribs, side of neck. All clean. All accurate.

  But…

  “Not strong enough,” I thought.

  The man was huge. Thick muscles. Staggered, but not down.

  From behind another pile—gunfire!

  Reina jumped sideways, spinning in midair. Just enough.

  The bullet grazed past. I could feel its heat.

  Every step Reina took felt like a dance. She moved between attacks with grace. But…

  “Nice technique,” she muttered. “But this body… not strong enough to knock them out immediately.”

  “You little shit! You really did it now!”

  The man tossed his weapon aside. Eyes red with rage.

  “Hey! Shoot her! Just don’t hit me!” he shouted to his partner.

  “Your plan sucks!” the partner yelled back.

  Reina smirked. “Good. He’s mad. The angrier he gets, the easier it is to read his attacks.”

  And sure enough…

  The man went wild. His fists swung wide and fast.

  But Reina dodged them all, analyzing angles and momentum in milliseconds.

  Two steps left… punch from the right… spin backward… counter with an elbow to the temple.

  My body moved like it was dancing. Reina’s strikes were surgical, quick, like an ancient martial art she pulled from some data archive.

  “I’m…” I thought silently, “…moving like a martial arts master…”

  Strikes. Dodges. Counters.

  Even bullets from the side were avoided. Until—

  “Ugh…!”

  One shot nearly hit my stomach. Reina tried dodging, but the old stitched-up wound tore again.

  Pain exploded inside.

  “Arche?!”

  Reina’s link faltered. My body froze.

  And just then, a heavy punch landed straight in my gut.

  DOUGHK!

  “Ghhk—!!”

  I was thrown back. I fell.

  “He’s… really a beginner?” the man muttered, wiping his red temple.

  “So, is he dead?” his partner asked.

  I writhed. My breath was gone. Vision blurred.

  Pain. So much pain. But I was still conscious.

  Reina screamed in my head. “Arche! Get up! They’re—!”

  Too late.

  They approached.

  One of them yanked my scrap bag.

  I gritted my teeth. Held my breath. Held the pain. Didn’t let go.

  “Stubborn bastard!” the man kicked my chest hard.

  My hand slipped. The bag was gone.

  “Two wolf cores…” he muttered, checking the contents. “And a few light scraps…”

  He sighed. “Not worth the effort.”

  His partner grumbled. “Wasted half my ammo on this kid. And we only get this?”

  While they argued, I crawled.

  My stomach burned. But I saw my weapon… lying behind the rubble.

  Just a little more…

  My hand reached—

  BRAGK!

  “AARRGHHH!!!”

  I kicked. But my hand—was pinned under a steel boot.

  Bones snapped. I heard it.

  My scream echoed through the dead ruins.