The footsteps in the corridor drew closer.
"Master, please wait here." Artoria's voice was calm, but Voss could feel the immense pressure radiating from her presence. "Mere modern weapons aren't enough to threaten me."
"Wait! Those guys have handguns!" Voss grabbed her arm in panic. "It's dangerous!"
Artoria turned her head, a gentle light flickering in her emerald eyes.
"Of course I know what handguns are—just modern firearms. Don't worry. That level of attack won't harm me."
"Really?" Voss still looked uneasy.
"Believe her!" Aqua chirped, practically bouncing with excitement. "This goddess can tell Big Sis is super strong!"
Tom and Jerry both nodded. As cartoon characters, they had a natural sense for "main character aura."
Without another word, Artoria pushed open the door.
Out in the corridor, Wright and Scarface had just reached the third floor. When they saw the golden-haired girl standing before them, both froze.
"What the hell… a cosplayer?" Scarface muttered.
"Doesn't matter who she is. She's seen us, so we finish her too," Wright said coldly. "No survivors tonight."
Artoria stood calmly in the middle of the hall, moonlight spilling in through the window and glinting silver off her armor. Her right hand rested lightly on her sword hilt.
"What business brings you here at this hour?" she asked evenly.
"Little lady, none of your concern." Wright raised his pistol. "Back off, or don't blame me when things get ugly."
"So you are here for revenge after all." Artoria shook her head slightly. "In that case, I can't allow this."
"Revenge, rent, whatever—" Scarface also drew his gun, though unease flickered across his face. Her presence was oppressive, unlike anything he'd faced before.
"Collecting rent with firearms?" Artoria sneered. "Do you take me for a child?"
Wright decided words were useless. He leveled his pistol and fired.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three shots slammed directly into Artoria's chest.
From behind the cracked door, Voss's heart seized. "Artoria!"
But the next moment stunned everyone.
The bullets clanged harmlessly off her armor and ricocheted into the walls, leaving dents in the plaster. Artoria didn't so much as flinch.
"What?!" Wright's eyes bulged. "Impossible!"
"Not a vest… what kind of armor is that?" Scarface stammered.
Artoria rolled her shoulders. "That's all? You didn't even scratch me."
She drew her sword with a clean metallic ring, the blade catching the moonlight.
"Now, it's my turn."
In a flash, she vanished.
By the time Wright and Scarface registered movement, the pistols in their hands were neatly sliced in half, the cuts as smooth as glass.
"Wh-what kind of speed is that?! And that blade…" Scarface's voice shook.
Artoria stood before them once more, her sword angled calmly toward the ground. "Surrender. You have no chance."
"Never!" Wright spat. "If I don't kill you, Kingpin will kill me anyway! I'll fight to the death!"
He tossed aside the ruined gun and lunged with a dagger. Scarface mirrored him, attacking from the other side.
Their teamwork wasn't sloppy—they were veterans of Hell's Kitchen, hardened by countless battles. Unlike common street punks, they fought with desperation.
But Artoria didn't even bother using her sword.
She slipped past Wright's thrust and slammed a straight punch into his gut.
"Guh—!"
Wright crumpled instantly, gagging and collapsing to his knees, the fight leaving his body in an instant.
Scarface's blade whistled past her face, grazing the tip of her nose. But before he could follow up, she spun and drove her elbow square into his temple.
Crack!
Scarface's vision went dark, and he dropped like a stone.
It had taken less than ten seconds. Two hardened killers, terrorizing Hell's Kitchen for years, were swatted down like flies.
Inside the room, Voss and the others peeked through the door crack.
|･ω･`) × 4
"My god…" Voss's jaw dropped. "She's insane!"
"So cool!" Aqua squealed, clapping. "This goddess wants to learn to fight like that too!"
Tom gave a firm thumbs up, while Jerry made an "OK" sign.
"Voss, call the police." Artoria sheathed her sword with calm finality. "I've subdued them, but they must be dealt with properly."
"Right, right!" Voss scrambled for his phone.
"Hello, police? Two armed thugs are down here—please send units. The address is…"
Ten minutes later, the wail of sirens grew louder. Through the window, Voss saw three squad cars pull up, officers spilling out and rushing toward the building.
At their head was someone familiar—Captain George Stacy.
"The police are here." Artoria lowered her sword. "Master, let's go down and cooperate."
"Wait—your outfit…" Voss looked her over, still armored from head to toe. "Won't they think that's strange?"
"What's strange about it?" Aqua asked, genuinely puzzled. "This goddess thinks it looks perfectly fine."
Tom gestured at Artoria, then pantomimed "cosplay."
"Right! Just say you're cosplaying!" Voss nodded quickly.
"Cosplay?" Artoria tilted her head, ahoge bouncing. "Role-play…? Very well. You'll explain."
The sound of boots reached the floor. Voss hurried to open the door.
"Officer, over here!"
Leading the group, Captain George Stacy blinked in surprise when he saw him.
"Voss? You again? You're the one who called?"
"Yes. Two thugs tried to break into my place." Voss pointed to the unconscious Wright and Scarface.
George's face hardened. "That's… Wright Jackson. And Scarface."
"You know them?" Voss asked.
"Know them? They're the boss and second-in-command of the Wright Gang. We've been hunting them for years."
One of the younger officers couldn't contain himself. "Captain, this is huge!"
George shot him a warning glare before turning back to Voss. "Tell me exactly what happened."
Voss recounted the events, carefully skipping over the "summoning system" details.
"This is my friend Artoria," he explained smoothly. "She was visiting and used her training to help me subdue them."
George's eyes flicked to Artoria's outfit. "And this young lady is…?"
"I was taking part in a medieval cosplay event," Artoria said without missing a beat. "And then this situation arose."
"I see." George nodded and crouched beside the unconscious thugs.