Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva

This time, they achieved a decent victory, injuring a policewoman, but it was a pity that since all the officers were wearing top-notch exoskeleton armor, only a few shots landed, making it difficult to kill instantly.

After wounding one of the pursuers, the fugitive hid again, and the only remaining uninjured officer became even more cautious and pursued.

He still encountered the teasing of afterimages, but he was determined to exchange blow for blow. Facing the sudden appearance of an afterimage, he only fired a symbolic shot while his attention was highly focused on his surroundings, ensuring he stayed in the corner or other safe spots, making it difficult for the opponent to launch a close-range surprise attack.

Such a tough, turtle-like method undoubtedly caused the man in the red jacket a lot of trouble, and he didn't have much time to waste, since the police had reinforcements on the way, and he needed to resolve the fight quickly.

Since the surprise attack failed, he had no choice but to confront her head-on. Finding a suitable position, he walked out with his gun aimed and began to shoot at the officer while constantly closing in.

Facing this method of combat, the officer also fired back, and the two engaged in a fierce gunfight. After about five seconds, the officer in exoskeleton armor slowly fell down, emitting white smoke and bloodied debris, while his counterpart in the red jacket wiped the blood and wounds off his body, walked over, and took the remaining items from the officer.

The footage ended here.

"After watching, you might be curious why the officer, despite being close-range and wearing exoskeleton armor, still lost."

"This is because the two were shooting at close range, but the fugitive in the red jacket used a deceptive tactic. His revealed figure and actual position were off by the width of a body, resulting in many bullets missing him, just whizzing past. In the midst of the fierce gunfight, the officer had neither the time nor opportunity to discern the trick, leading to a completely different outcome."
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"Many seemingly insignificant skills can be very useful in real combat. Just a few seconds of misleading and disrupting the opponent can change the outcome." He explained the urban close-quarters battle conditions.

"Therefore, it's necessary to introduce the 'Soul-targeting Aiming Method' here, which our Withering Sequence excels at—techniques involving soul consciousness, which most illusion techniques can't easily hide or disguise."

"The essence of the 'Soul-targeting Aiming Method' is that once you memorize the unique aspects of the opponent's soul consciousness and combine it with a firearm engraved with branding, your wrist and fingers, along with the gun held, can follow your consciousness and directly aim at the opponent, almost without thought. This is extremely convenient in fast-paced and intense combat, almost like automatic locking, and such locking is difficult to mislead or disrupt."

"Under the same conditions, with the aid of this method, you can still devote energy to using other abilities to disrupt the opponent, such as suddenly assaulting their consciousness to cause a brief moment of dizziness, and in combat, instantly kill the enemy; this is one of the strengths and advantages of the Withering Sequence."

"Currently in the Federation, less than 2% of people study the Withering Sequence, and even fewer are of high rank. Most opponents lack the experience and means to counter the Withering Sequence, so we often have quite an advantage in combat."

Indeed, the young girl nodded thoughtfully. It seemed that when Edith Academy split, it specifically supported the overlooked Withering Sequence, perhaps to take a novel approach and create a competitive advantage through differentiation.

"Can the 'Soul-targeting Aiming Method' be learned within the Academy?" she suddenly became interested.

"If it's an ordinary student, they usually have to enter a military academy to learn it, but if Chairwoman Tilan applies, it's actually quite easy, probably just a matter of going through the process."

Whether it was the connections of Edith Academy or Tilan's status as a songstress, either would allow her to easily pass certain reviews and inspections within the Federation, something no one was worried about.

Just as Tilan decided to note several special Withering Sequence techniques for future study, a member of the 'Death Rose Society' stepped forward, removing his hat to reveal short black hair and a pair of lively black eyes.

"Hello, Chairwoman Tilan, can I challenge you to a match?" His voice was earnest, his hands wrapped in bandages showing some calluses and scars.

"Sure, what's your name?"

"Weston Trey."

Having said this, he stepped into the arena, removed the obstructing black robe to reveal a vest and trousers underneath, and drew out a straight longsword, holding it in his hand. His muscles were not exaggerated but exuded an exceptionally sturdy and healthy feel, like blocks of bronzed metal, robust and strong.

In the face of this young man challenging her, Tilan too drew out a black-edged longsword within the arena, swung it a couple of times to get used to the weight and length, and then also stepped into the arena.

"It has started." Her opponent spoke up to signal the beginning and then moved forward.

Weston's speed wasn't fast, but that didn't mean he was easy to handle. The steel longsword he wielded whistled as it sliced the air, and when it collided with Tilan's sword edge, it sent a shock through her grip, nearly causing her to lose her weapon, while the heavy force nearly knocked her entire body flying.

Just one exchange made the young girl aware that her opponent was not easy to deal with. She then retreated and attacked from the side once more.

Without fancy skills and moves, he used basic blocks, sweeps, slashes, and thrusts against Tilan's attacks—each move forceful and robust. Every collision with her blade sent painful shocks through Tilan's wrists, leaving her shoulders aching and her arms numb, slowing her responses.