Although his master had said Rebecca was trustworthy, Leon did not let his guard down completely.
It was not that he distrusted his master, but the fact that the traitor who had stabbed him in the back three years ago was one of the three made it hard for him to feel entirely at ease.
Being extra cautious was never a mistake.
Wearing sunglasses, Leon navigated through small paths and dark alleys, taking several turns before arriving at a detached apartment. This was Rebecca's home.
How could Leon be so sure she hadn't moved in the past three years?
He glanced toward a corner of the yard. There stood an exaggeratedly large cannon. No ordinary person would keep a cannon powered by fire magic in their yard, right?
Leon looked away from the cannon and circled the apartment. There was no one inside.
"She must be out on a mission at this hour," he muttered as he approached the back door.
He tried turning the door handle.
Click—
The door swung open inward.
Leon was slightly surprised. "This crazy girl is still as careless as ever. What if a thief breaks in?"
But then he thought, who would dare to steal from the home of a top gunner in the Dragon Slayer Corps? They would have a death wish.
Leon entered through the back door and stepped into the living room. The place was a bit messy.
Stuffed animals and clothes were scattered haphazardly across the sofa. If Rossweise saw this, she might not even bother cleaning and would just unleash a Dragon Flame to simplify things.
Hiss—
Why had his thoughts drifted to that mother dragon? Missing her was one thing, but had it only been a few hours since they parted? Wasn't that a bit too eager?
Leon shook his head, pushing away the chaotic thoughts, and continued observing Rebecca's house.
On the coffee table lay a pile of disassembled handgun parts, with a training dummy round beside them. Rebecca was a chatterbox, always talking nonstop, so when she was alone, she needed something to ward off loneliness more than others. Thus, she had developed a unique hobby: assembling guns.
She would take apart a complete handgun, reassemble it, then take it apart again, and reassemble it once more. The process was dull and tedious, but she could quietly occupy herself with it for an entire evening.
As a gunner, understanding firearm assembly was indeed important.
Leon sat on the sofa and picked up the parts from the coffee table, attempting to assemble them. Rebecca had taught him how to assemble a gun before. Though he didn't have her speed or skill, his remarkable memory allowed him to manage.
It was a classic close-range handgun, small yet powerful, favored by many female gunners—except Rebecca. She preferred the big, flashy types, the kind that made a booming noise audible from miles away.
"So, this small pistol was just a toy to pass the time."
Leon stood up, glanced around the room, and an idea began to form in his mind.
.
.
.
Two ponytails swayed behind the girl as she walked with light steps.
Naturally petite, she was dressed in a cool, trendy, mature outfit: a black short vest over a white tank top and super short shorts. Despite her short stature, her legs were perfectly proportioned, with just the right amount of fullness.
She carried a large shopping bag filled with various snacks and fruits.
"Good afternoon, Rebecca," a neighbor greeted.
The girl with twin ponytails stopped and responded warmly, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Harry! You look younger than yesterday. Did you use some kind of magic? Can you teach me?"
Mrs. Harry was delighted by the girl's flattery, waving her hand dismissively. "No, no, it's just a good attitude."
"Oh, I see, that's nice. By the way, Mrs. Harry, the last time you asked me to help with pest control was two months ago. Have the bugs come back recently? Do you need my help again?"
Mrs. Harry's smile froze as she recalled the terrifying scene of Rebecca spraying her yard with two submachine guns two months ago…
Just the thought was frightening!
"No, no, it's fine, Rebecca. You can go about your business."
"Okay, Mrs. Harry, just let me know if you need anything!"
Mrs. Harry waved her off, and Rebecca continued home with light, brisk steps.
As she reached the door, she lifted her shapely leg to support the shopping bag, freeing a hand to pull the keys from her pocket.
But out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a figure through the nearby window into the living room.
Rebecca frowned. "A thief?"
Most people would panic upon finding a burglar in their home, immediately calling the patrol or shouting for help. But Rebecca wasn't like most people. Not only did she not panic, she was even a little excited.
You little yellow-haired thief. In this vast empire, you could have chosen any other house, but you had to pick mine?
Perfect timing. It had been a while since she'd seen any action while on patrol duty. Today, she'd use this little thief for target practice.
Rebecca gently set down her shopping bag and lifted the corner of the rug at the entrance. With one hand, she pressed hard on the wooden panel beneath, causing it to open and reveal a hidden compartment containing a delicate handgun.
As an excellent gunner, she could even hide two guns in the toilet tank, so hiding one under the rug was nothing, right?
Gun in hand, Rebecca slowly opened the door, stepped lightly inside, and pressed herself against the wall beside the entrance, peeking out to observe the black-haired thief still in the living room.
Oh, not yellow hair but black. And he wasn't small either—at least 1.9 meter tall. Normally, he could easily kick Rebecca, who was 1.5 meter, far away.
The black-haired thief had his back to her, so she couldn't see his face. But it didn't matter. Yellow hair or black, small thief or big, the weapon in her hand was no joke.
The thief remained completely unaware of Rebecca silently observing him from behind as he continued searching earnestly.
Seizing the opportunity, Rebecca advanced silently, step by step.
Stealth was a essential skill for a gunner.
By the time Rebecca reached behind the thief, he still hadn't noticed a thing.
Click—
The dark muzzle of the gun pressed against the thief's waist—she didn't aim for his head because Rebecca was too short and had to stand on tiptoe to reach his waist.
Sensibly, the thief immediately raised his hands in surrender at lightning speed.
"Wow, you're pretty experienced, Mr. Thief. Seems like you've had a gun to your back more than once, huh?" Rebecca said smugly. "Sneaking into a young lady's home in broad daylight and rummaging through leftover takeout boxes—your hobbies are a bit strange."
Mr. Thief remained silent.
"Hmph, you have the right to remain silent, Mr. Thief, but anything you say will be used as evidence!" Rebecca continued, still met with silence.
The most annoying thing for a chatterbox was this kind of situation.
She babbled on and on, but the other person stayed silent like a mute.
Rebecca frowned in displeasure and pressed the gun harder against the thief's back. "Playing mute, huh? Believe it or not, I'll shoot and paralyze you from the waist down!"
It was just a threat. The thief was a thief, but his crime didn't warrant such punishment, and the empire wasn't a lawless place.
This time, however, the thief finally responded, "I bet your gun… has no bullets!"