Together with the swing that rendezvous along the way, the three of them creep through the door of an underground training facility dedicated to residents on the back street.
The first time Rin saw the ten nights and spoke up was at a shooting training range in this facility. The meeting place had now become a place for the three of them to pass regularly.
A shook with a gun and ten nights of hand-fisted opposite each other.
The distance between the two is about 20 meters. The flesh-modified ten nights, both in the motor vision and reflex nerves, transcend the realm of the common man.
The shake fires two shots first. One shot is feint. The other shot was aimed at the foot for ten nights. Ten nights leans forward diagonally to the right, and at a rate that transcends that of a human being, it stuffs all at once.
One or two more times, at most, the shake can shoot a gun, in front of the speed of ten nights running a hundred meters in seven seconds. I know that too. If you can't hold it off during this run, the Ten Nights will take an overwhelming advantage.
But that doesn't mean it leads to immediate defeat. Ten nights will not be alarmed until the end, as the hand of a critical counter in showing the gap has also been shown several times in previous training.
The shake shoots twice. Both shots were subtly mistimed and aimed at the left and right legs.
The second shot was the shaking reading of the movement after the dodging of the ten nights, hitting the right foot of the ten nights. Ten nights of consciousness is directed at the lower body. My legs become slightly twisted and my body becomes slightly forward, slowing down.
At a time when it seemed like the ten nights approached the shaking eyes, the shaking was stepping back with a gap that disturbed the ten nights of running and missed consciousness, and gaining room to shoot yet another shot. Of course there are factors that slowed down the speed of the ten nights along the way.
A shaking bullet hit the chest directly for ten nights, and the red paint hit the chest for ten nights. It is an aqueous and immediate falling substitute. Ten nights of motion stop. There was a battle.
I can see very well from the side that the ten nights are discouraged. It's not like ten nights is bad. The growth of shaking is remarkable.
I don't want to admit talent easily, but I have to admit that.
Whatever you teach, absorb it easily, even if you can't teach it, think and devise your own ideas and find even better ways to polish it. Stretch it. I've been watching that progress and growth for ten nights. Genius tie to cleverly do whatever it takes to make you do it.
(Yeah, it's my hateful type. This one's normal. I can't help but be jealous of the outspoken)
Though I grumble so in my heart, I also honestly think its talent and growth is reliable, and it spills nature and laughter.
(Hopefully this will provide a little more prudence)
That was the biggest challenge. Rin decides it's time to point it out harshly.
"Shake, I'll deal with you next"
Quietly proclaiming, moving forward and forth before shaking. He drinks his saliva in the midst of a struggle.
With a slip of foot, fill a small slice of cake. Similar to the previous ten nights, attempts are made to approach the shake by hand and air fist. I thought I was coming with a gun, but the shake delayed my reaction to the move of the shake I didn't expect.
Shoot two guns. Shake. The first shot is aimed at the riddle without a feint, and the second is aimed at the dodging point in anticipation of the right diagonal forward.
As expected by the shake, it moved diagonally forward to the right, but the second bullet did not hit. The rifle has stopped just before the ballistics. Immediately, while sliding forward to the left diagonally, it moves into small pieces.
The shake fires two more shots in a slight hurry. Now we both predicted where we were going, aiming left and right forward. As if he had predicted it, he proceeded straight and packed his time at once.
"Ugh..."
He decides to clap on his chest, and the shake groans. He was relieved, but still had enough pain and shock.
"You seemed upset about twice. Even if they make unexpected moves, they won't shake their minds. You can't be cowardly."
Gently fix the disturbed long dark hair with your hands, "he says.
"I can't talk about people either. When I had sex with Aizawa, I lost my temper along the way. When I remembered that time, I still regretted it and my head was about to boil, so I worked myself out crazy to death from then on. The pain and humiliation of defeat strengthens people. But you guys don't feel that way right now, do you? Boy's sake, I don't care if you lose or fail. Are you saying you're upset? Especially you."
To the words of the callous tone, the shaking quenched for a moment, but with the callous gaze of the callous, the anger vanishes and atrophies rapidly.
"No matter how much I'm two years older than you, I don't care if you have any teeth at all. Shame on you. This world is absolutely powerful. I need to hone my strength every day and be prepared not to regret it. I just wasn't strong enough, but I was already dead."
I have to light a shake of mood and ten nights of heart all over lately. That's what I think and slap the harsh words, but I honestly don't like being in this mode of scolding. I want to treat these juniors, cute and busy, much nicer if possible. I just want to show you a good face.
(It's a tricky role, but it'll also lead to your growth)
A serious voice echoes in the midst of it. Hiroki Machida - It is the spirit of a certain sorcerer, implanted in the brain of a magician, who sees things from the perspective of a magician and can also foresee everything he feels what he thinks. He thinks of his voice in his heart and can talk to this person, but when he is alone, he speaks to his voice.
(I don't care about human growth for me. I just need to get pure strength)
I didn't mean to be strong, but I said that to Machida. Machida sighed heavily when she heard that.
The happiest dream that Shoreline sees is that of his father coming out.
Being his only daughter, he has often missed, admired and revered his father since he was a child. I was close with my mother, but I liked my father more than that.
From the looks of it, his father was the owner of an unusual thought. Obviously not like other adults. There was something slightly merhentic about it, which was also disproportionately affected by it.
"Everyone is lighting fire in their hearts, making light shine, making wind blow."
When I was a kid, my father told me that.
"Do you see that? I look like my father. For example, there is a very gentle, warm fire burning firewood in the fireplace."
"Hmm... then I'll see what my father has too"
He stares at his father.
One day, I could see it. I wouldn't taste it if I said it was just a cliché of an image, but just at first glance, so that I could see something in my first impression.
He was a gentle grinning father, but he was blue when he saw what was in his father.
The black earth. Something like a black drool coltar is laid down to the end of the earth, with holes in the center. It's not just a hole. I'm slowly swirling. Bottom of the hole - endlessly deep in the vortex, I can't see what's going on.
"Why...? Dad, why?
I shudder as I look up at my father's smile.
In a space where there was nothing, a switch appeared.
"You know what I mean."
pointing to that switch, my father said.
"Push that switch."
The smile prompted my father, and he pushed the switch that appeared right next to him without any doubt or hesitation.
Shortly afterwards, my father's feet open and my father falls. Soon the rope that was hung on his neck, stretching far above heaven, his body hung, and his face stopped just before his face, exposing his crippled dead face to his eyes.
Waking from a nightmare, sweat erupted from all over his body at once.
"Are you kidding me..."
I look up at the void, hands on my mouth and groan with an abomination.
My father is still in prison. Though it was the murder that was committed, it did not lead to a maximum sentence on the boulder. But during the trial, he was frightened at the time that he would be condemned to death for having been scolded by the victim's survivors to the point where he should have been sentenced to death.
"Dad didn't do anything wrong..."
Squeeze the pendant of the snake's tangled cross lowered from his chest and bite his teeth. I can't help regretting it. I can't help but be cursed. Even though it's all bad for the guy who was killed.
If I could bring the dead back to life, I would even want my father to bring back the person he killed and choke them to death with his own hands again, and I think seriously. He decides that everything went crazy because of him.
I haven't seen my father once. My father told me not to come. At the time I atoned for my sins, they told me to see you if you would forgive me.
"Dad... I'm a resident of the back street."
Speak up and speak to my father who is not even supposed to be there.
"I don't think I've done anything wrong either, so I'll report it when Dad comes out."
There is no falsehood in that word. There is no reproach of conscience at all, and I intend to tell my father. And yet, I intend to reassure you. I'm going to get you admitted.