High Heels, One-Piece Dresses, and Smooth White Legs

SHADOW

I watched from the eaves as two shadows scrambled through the Royal Capital. They were really putting their backs into it, ducking into a narrow alleyway while casting panicked glances over their shoulders.

They must have been in a serious hurry. Once they hit a dead end, they slumped against the brick, hands on their knees, gasping for air. For a long moment, the only sound in the dark alley was the ragged, desperate wheezing of two men who knew they were being hunted.

Naturally, that was my cue.

Click.

I let the sound of my boot strike the pavement echo from the depths of the alley. They spun around, eyes bugging out as they tried to pierce the gloom. I stepped forward, emerging slowly from the darkness.

Click. Click.

I made sure every footfall sounded heavy, deliberate, and thoroughly menacing. They grew wary, their hands trembling as they reached for their swords. But I was faster.

Before the first guy could even register a threat, my Jet-black Blade had already sprouted from the back of his head. No warning, no fanfare—just a sudden, violent piece of geometry piercing his skull.

"Ah… agah…!"

I slid the blade out as effortlessly as I’d tucked it in. The man collapsed in a spray of crimson, his death rattle lost to the night.

"…!"

The survivor scrambled back, his face pale with terror. I stepped fully into the dim light, my Jet-black Longcoat billowing around me and my Magician's Mask hiding my expression. I was really feeling the vibe tonight.

"Did I keep you waiting…?" I asked.

I made sure to pitch my voice low—like it was resonating from the very bottom of a cold, dark abyss. Nailed it.

"Hieee…!" The man let out a pathetic squeak and backpedaled.

"Why do you fear me so?" I asked, tilting my head slightly for dramatic effect. "Did you actually… think you could escape?"

The man didn't stick around for the monologue. He spun on his heel and bolted.

"Wha—!?" He screeched, skidding to a halt.

"A masterfully executed hunt, Master Shadow."

A woman was standing right where he had intended to run. It was Nu, looking every bit the refined, elegant beauty in her mini one-piece dress.

"To have them cornered so quickly… as expected of your brilliance."

"Nu, is it?" I asked, keeping up the act.

"Yes, my lord."

We spoke across the man as if he were a piece of furniture. Trapped between us, he backed against the wall, his eyes darting back and forth in a total panic.

"Please, leave the rest to us," she said, bowing gracefully. "We will ensure all necessary information is… extracted."

I sheathed my Jet-black Blade with a satisfying click.

"…Do not be negligent," I warned, giving him one last intimidating look.

"As you command."

I turned on my heel and vanished back into the shadows. A solid 10/10 for the exit.

NU

I lowered my head, remaining in a deep bow until Master Shadow’s presence had completely vanished from the alley. Only then did I turn my attention to the trash left behind.

The man was fully armed and armored. I, on the other hand, was dressed for a night out—just a simple one-piece dress and high heels, without a visible weapon to my name. It didn't take a genius to see where his thoughts went.

He moved fast, I’ll give him that. He swung his sword in a wide arc, aiming to cut the "unarmed" woman down where she stood.

Or at least, that was his plan.

My dress fluttered as I pivoted, and my leg sliced through the darkness like a whip.

Clang.

His sword hit the cobblestones. A second later, eight of his fingers joined it.

"A-Aah…!"

He didn't even know what to reach for—his fingers or his weapon. He extended a hand that now consisted of nothing but two thumbs, reaching out in a daze. I brought my high heel down, pinning his hand to the dirt.

"Igih…!"

A thin, jet-black needle of a blade had sprouted from the tip of my heel, driving straight through his palm. Blood began to pool around my shoe, staining the stones.

"I am not quite as merciful as Master Shadow," I said, my voice dropping to a frigid whisper.

The man looked up, meeting my gaze. I made sure he saw the absolute frost in my eyes.

"Don't think for a second that you'll be allowed to die easily."

My skirt flared as I swung my leg upward, and my knee connected with his jaw with a sickening crack.

The next morning, the citizens of the Royal Capital woke up to a gruesome sight hanging over the main thoroughfare. A mangled corpse dangled in the breeze, his face twisted into a permanent mask of agony and terror.

Across his stomach, written in his own blood, were three simple words:

‘THE FOOL’S END’