Regretting my decision to come to the bank tonight, I slowly raised my hands alongside the other hostages and kneeled down.
The robbers wore a normal dark mask which did good in covering their face.
Some tried to run, but bullets tore through the air, forcing them to rethink. The robbers wielded assault rifles, their barrels coated in a crackling yellow glow—mana-infused weapons.
Unlike conventional firearms, these rifles harnessed the user's mana, enhancing bullet speed and precision. But it came at a cost.
The more mana infused, the faster the bullet traveled—yet it also demanded skill. An experienced shooter could control recoil and spread, using measured bursts. An amateur? They just poured mana in blindly, making their shots unstable and unpredictable.
Judging by the erratic shots, these guys belonged to the latter group.
A bullet slammed into the counter in front of me, shattering the glass that had separated me from the bank employee just moments ago.
"Don't you dare reach for the button!"
"Ah...!" The employee flinched, his hand retreating from beneath the counter. He had tried to trigger the alarm. A mistake.
Another shot rang out. This time, I watched the shooter closely. He staggered after each shot, barely keeping his footing.
"Shit! Stand still, you bastard!" another robber barked, laughing as he fired single shots at the cowering man.
They were toying with him. Their poor aim made it clear—reckless, unstable shooters.
"Stop it, you fools! Take this seriously!" the leader snapped, forcing the rest of us to kneel lower. He stalked toward the counter where the trembling employee huddled, yanking him up by the hair.
"Please—don't kill me! I have two children!" the man pleaded, tears streaming down his face.
"Look at this pathetic bastard!" one robber sneered. "Where's your spine, huh?"
"Give me the code to the safe," the leader demanded, tightening his grip and slamming the man's head onto the broken glass below.
The employee screamed, his face now riddled with tiny shards. He struggled, but resistance only seemed to annoy his captor further.
"Man, this is getting old." The leader sighed, pressing the rifle's barrel against the employee's forehead. "The safe code. Now. Or I turn your brains into wall art."
A whimper echoed from another hostage. The employee, his voice weak and shaking, stammered, "They don't tell me the codes… I only serve as a loan accountant..."
The leader exhaled sharply, turning toward his crew. Then, from the right side of the bank—near the vault—a voice rang out.
"I found the manager!"
A woman, probably in her mid-thirties, was shoved forward at gunpoint. Dressed in a blue suit, her face was streaked with tears as the third robber nudged her forward with his rifle. The crowd fell into a hushed silence, heads lowered.
I turned my gaze to the employee still held by his hair. He locked eyes with me—desperate, pleading.
Slowly, I parted my lips and made a subtle biting motion.
At first, he looked confused. Then, his eyes widened in realization.
He looked down at the floor, and for a moment, I thought he was hesitating, debating whether to act.
"Well, if we got the manager, what's the use for this guy?" the leader sneered, yanking the employee's face closer to his gun.
In a split second, the employee bit down on the leader's hand with all his strength. Glass shards from his face dug into the robber's skin, making him yelp in pain.
I sprang into action. The second robber, caught off guard, reacted too slowly. I lunged forward, delivering a powerful low kick to his leg, sending him stumbling. Before he could recover, I seized his rifle.
Using the rifle's rear, I delivered a heavy blow to him and quickly turned to the other scuffle.
The employee was yanked aside, but before the leader could regain control and aim, I leveled my stolen gun at him.
The third robber, still holding the bank manager, hesitated, his grip faltering.
"Drop it," I said, my finger hovering over the trigger.
He looked at me slowly and started talking with a hint of nervousness in his voice but still keeping the arrogant facade.
"Pal, you don't know what you are doing. Just let us ro--"
"Did I order a fucking yappochino? I said drop the fucking rifle," I said, my voice cold and unwavering.
He hesitated for a moment and looked at his fellow knocked-out robber. Again, he turned his head and looked at the third robber, who was clearly holding the rifle with a shaky hand, barely keeping the barrel at the manager's head.
"Buddy, you shoot me, my friend over there will blow that woman's head off," said the leader with a mocking head gesture toward the manager being held hostage.
"You think I care? I shoot you, and the best your friend can do is kill the manager. I trade her within a second. People live with just one casualty. I see this as an absolute win." I said calmly as the robber tensed up.
He lowered his rifle slowly and looked at the third robber, who was nervous, which was evident by his rifle's shakiness.
"Drop the rifle, Hadal," spoke the leader with some uncertainty.
"But Pablo—"
"You better listen to your boyfriend here, shaky pants," I taunted them with words that would make their behavior more erratic.
He took a glance at his leader, who gave him a shaky but firm nod.
The man, presumably called Hadal, slowly pushed away the manager and placed his rifle on the ground.
"Now, both of you, kneel down."
They did as I said, their eyes never leaving me. The customers, still scared, were slowly lifting their heads up.
Now, I had to contemplate another problem—how the fuck was I gonna use a mana-utilizing rifle when I didn't even have mana?
From the start, all I could do was intimidate them by using the rifle as a pretense. They would soon notice that the rifle wasn't glowing as it should be.
"Hey."
I called out to the employee who had been yanked away and was leaning near the wall. He looked at me with pain in his eyes, but there was nothing I could do for him right now.
He was the closest one to me, meaning he could quickly collect the leader's rifle and hold him hostage while I retrieved the other robber's rifle.
"Go get his weapon."
It didn't take long for him to get up and take the rifle by his hand, holding it clumsily. It glowed with yellow, and I hoped they wouldn't notice the lack of glow in my rifle.
"Bank manager, please hit the emergency button."
The manager, still recovering, looked at me and hurried to the nearest counter, slamming her hand against the button.
'Three minutes is the average response time, if I remember correctly. Due to the festival, the time might increase by a minute or two. So five minutes. I have to hold on for five minutes.'
"If he makes any unnecessary moves, just blast him. Don't hesitate," I said to the employee, who was still shaken by everything that had happened.
I tapped his shoulder for reassurance and looked toward the other side.
"Everyone else, stay down and don't do anything stupid. Authorities will be here soon."
I quickly went over to the third robber and grabbed his rifle off the ground.
He looked at me with such contempt that if looks could kill, I'd be dead a million times over.
I ignored his gaze and stepped away.
The rifle stayed in my grip—there was no one else I could trust with it. Every customer and employee in the bank was shaking too hard to hold a weapon steady.
Minutes passed in heavy silence. Occasionally, a muffled whimper broke through, only to be silenced when I clicked my tongue loud enough for them to hear.
Then, whispers.
They came from the far end of the counter, where I'd left the employee with the gun.
'Nah, this doesn't feel right.'
I moved fast hastening my steps. Before I could reach him—
Bang!
The gunshot shattered the silence.
The employee staggered backward, his hands trembling from the recoil.
"GET DOWN!"
My shout was useless. The leader, Pablo, seized the moment, lunging forward and tackling the guy, reaching for the weapon.
I sprinted toward them. Screams erupted behind me where I'd been standing moments ago.
'Focus. Handle Pablo first.'
I swung the rifle's stock, slamming it into his head once—twice—before he went limp.
Panting, I noticed the glint of metal near his foot. A spare handgun. Normal make.
I ditched the rifle and snatched the handgun instead. No time to check on the employee.
I turned back to the third robber. He had the manager in a chokehold, a handgun pressed against her temple.
Same model as mine.
This time, he had the upper hand. No hostage for me to bargain with.
The leader was out cold behind me.
No leverage.
No deal to be made.