"God of… what?" Sylvia asked, her voice slowing as if she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.
Daniel looked at her, a faint smile forming on his face.
"Death," he said.
"As in… the god who reaps people's lives?" Sylvia asked, her voice uncertain as she tried to match his calm tone with the meaning behind his words.
Daniel gave a small shrug.
"Something like that," he said. "Although I don't go around reaping people myself. They die on their own."
Before she could respond,
BOOM—!
The door burst open.
Armed officers rushed in, boots striking the floor in quick succession as they spread out across the room. Guns were raised instantly, all aimed at Daniel. Their movements were sharp and trained.
"Raise your hands!" one of them shouted.
For a brief moment, their attention shifted toward Sylvia, recognizing her, their real priority, but Daniel stood between them and her.
Daniel didn't move.
He looked at them, completely unfazed.
"Raise nothing," he said calmly. "All of you… go to sleep."
He snapped his fingers.
In the next instant, every officer dropped.
Bodies hit the floor almost at the same time, weapons slipping from their hands as silence replaced the tension.
Sylvia stared at them, her eyes widening.
"Did you… kill them?"
Daniel glanced at the fallen officers and shook his head.
"No," he said. "I just knocked them unconscious."
He bent slightly, picking up one of the guns and examining it with mild interest, turning it in his hand as if inspecting something new.
"And now," he added, "I'm taking my compensation for helping them deal with a problem."
He checked the weight of the weapon, clearly more curious than concerned about the situation around him.
"Aren't guns useless to you?" Sylvia asked as she walked beside him, her eyes still drifting toward the officers on the floor.
Daniel turned the handgun slightly in his hand, checking its balance before answering.
"Yeah, they are," he said. "But just because something is useless doesn't mean you can't enjoy it. People have hobbies. I don't need them, but I can still collect them."
His tone stayed casual, as if he were talking about something ordinary rather than weapons taken from armed officers.
He glanced at her.
"Are you interested?" he asked, raising the handgun slightly.
Sylvia shook her head.
"No," she said. "I don't even know how to shoot. My father would never allow it."
Daniel gave a small nod, as if that answer made sense.
"Then I'll teach you," he said. "I'm actually pretty good at it."
***
The next moment, the surroundings changed.
The polished buildings of New Greenwich were gone, replaced by narrow streets, worn-out structures, and the heavy atmosphere of Dayton. The air felt different here—rough, tense, filled with people who moved quickly and spoke less.
Sylvia looked around, clearly unsettled by the sudden shift.
"Are we… in a different time zone?" she asked, trying to connect what she was seeing with what she already knew.
Daniel nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "This is Dayton."
He moved a few steps forward and picked up an empty can from the ground, placing it at a distance to serve as a target. The setup was simple, nothing formal, just enough to demonstrate.
Then he handed her the handgun.
Sylvia hesitated for a second before taking it, the weight unfamiliar in her hands.
Daniel stepped behind her, adjusting her stance slightly before placing his hands over hers, guiding her grip and alignment.
"You see," he said, his voice steady as he corrected her aim, "guns are actually simple to use. If you don't know anything, you hold it steady, pull the trigger, and fire."
Sylvia frowned slightly, still focused on the weapon.
"Isn't that dangerous?" she asked. "What about other people?"
Daniel didn't deny it.
"It is," he said. "If you're in a situation where you need to use a gun, it's already dangerous. At that point, hesitation makes it worse."
He adjusted her aim again, making sure the barrel was pointed directly at the can.
"So you commit to it," he added. "Now… pull the trigger."
Sylvia tightened her grip slightly, her finger resting on the trigger as she took a breath, the unfamiliar weight of the moment settling in.
She pulled the trigger, and the gun kicked in her hands as the shot rang out, loud and sharp against the quiet of the street, but the bullet missed the can entirely and struck somewhere off to the side.
Daniel didn't react beyond a glance.
"Well, no one hits the target on their first try," he said, his tone steady as if it was expected. "Try again."
Sylvia adjusted her grip, tightening her hold as she focused more carefully this time, trying to align the barrel the way he had shown her before pulling the trigger again. The second shot echoed just as loudly, but the result didn't change, the bullet still missing its mark.
She tried again.
This time her stance was slightly better, but the recoil hit harder than she expected, pushing back through her arms and shoulders. The force threw her balance off, and she stumbled backward straight into Daniel.
He caught her easily, one arm steadying her without effort.
"You seem excited," he said, looking down at her.
Sylvia blinked, then realized she was smiling without even noticing it herself.
"Am I?" she asked, a little surprised.
"Yeah," Daniel replied.
He helped her regain her footing before glancing toward the can.
"I should probably get a bigger target," he said. "That one's too small for you right now."
He turned and walked a few steps ahead, about to adjust the setup.
Another shot went off behind him, the sound cutting through the air again as the bullet struck his back.
It didn't pierce.
It didn't tear through his clothes.
It simply stopped against him as if it had hit something immovable.
Daniel paused, his steps halting mid-motion, before he slowly turned around.
Sylvia stood there, completely still, the gun still in her hands, her expression frozen between panic and realization.
"Umm… Sylvia," Daniel said, his voice flat as he looked at her. "Where exactly were you aiming?"
She swallowed, her grip tightening slightly around the gun.
"Sorry," she said quickly. "That was an accident."
*****
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