My Crybaby Father is the Kingdom's Worst Villain
Chapter 38: Clever As Ever.

Chapter 38: Clever As Ever.

Luzia weaved through the dense forest, her steps careful but quick. The eerie glow of silver lanterns overhead cast long, shifting shadows, making the phantom beasts even harder to track.

She had only taken down six so far.

Her grip on the pistol tightened. The cold energy she had felt when choosing it still pulsed faintly against her palm, as though the weapon was watching, waiting to see what she would do next.

This is bad and shocking at the same time.

Ignacio was already at twenty-five. So was Crisanto. Even Isidro had reached twenty. Meanwhile, she was lagging behind—far behind.

No. Luzia inhaled sharply, shaking off the unease. I can’t afford to hesitate.

A rustle to her left. ’ How do I know how to use a gun? I dont remember ever learning how to use my guns in my previous lives!’

She snapped her head toward the sound, catching a glimpse of a shadow darting between the trees. A phantom beast—its shape shifting between that of a wolf and a feline, its glowing red eyes locked onto her.

Luzia raised her gun.

The moment she squeezed the trigger, a pulse of energy shot through her, cold and biting. The gun fired. A dark blue bullet sped toward the creature.

The impact sent ripples through the air, and for a brief moment, the phantom beast froze—locked in place as if time itself had stilled.

Then, shatter.

The beast collapsed into wisps of silver mist.

Luzia’s breath came uneven, her heart pounding.

What was that?

She had expected the gun to fire like the others—bursting with elemental energy, leaving behind scorch marks or shattered debris. But this... this was something else entirely.

A whisper of power coiled around her fingertips, vanishing just as quickly as it came.

No time to think about it now.

Luzia pushed forward, determined.

She was still behind. But not for long.

—

Meanwhile, Ignacio had taken notice.

Pausing atop a ridge, he glanced toward where Luzia had disappeared between the trees. He had been about to ignore her entirely—until he saw the way her gun fired. The unnatural stillness that followed.

His smirk faded.

What kind of weapon did she choose? Or was it her magic?

Even from a distance, he could tell—Luzia’s magic was different.

And he didn’t like it.

Grinding his teeth, Ignacio turned away. He had no time to dwell on her. Not when there was a hunt to win.

He raised his rifle once more.

Twenty-six.

—

A short distance away, Crisanto was practically bouncing with excitement.

"That’s twenty-six!" he chirped, twirling his pistol between his fingers before catching it with ease. His gleeful grin widened as he looked toward his sister, who had chosen to remain outside the hunting grounds, watching from the raised stone balcony that overlooked the entire field.

"Sister! Did you see that?" he called, waving eagerly.

Benedicta, standing with quiet poise, offered him a small, unreadable smile. "I see it," she said. "You’re doing well, Crisanto."

Crisanto beamed, practically glowing under her praise.

Then, his gaze flickered toward the distant figure of Luzia.

His grin faltered just a little.

"...I think I like her gun," he murmured, tilting his head in thought.

Benedicta didn’t respond right away. Instead, she simply watched.

And as Luzia fired another shot—this time taking down three beasts in quick succession

Luzia’s breath came in sharp, measured exhales as she sprinted through the thinning trees, her pistol still humming with the remnants of her last shot. The silver lanterns above cast an eerie glow over the shifting shadows.

She had taken down eighteen.

Not enough.

Her fingers twitched against the grip of her gun, but there was no time for frustration. Only one phantom beast remained—the final target of the hunting game. Whoever landed the last kill would claim the highest honors.

And she wasn’t the only one after it.

A gunshot rang out to her left. Loud. Precise.

Luzia whipped around just in time to see a bullet streak past her and embed itself into a thick tree trunk ahead. A miss.

No— the beast had dodged.

A blur of shifting darkness wove between the trees, blue eyes gleaming like embers in the night.

Luzia surged forward.

Just as another figure cut in from the right.

Crisanto.

The usual playful energy in his stride was gone, replaced by sharp focus. He vaulted over an exposed tree root, pistol raised. "Not slowing down now, are you?" he called, grinning.

Luzia barely spared him a glance. "Not a chance."

A second shot cracked through the air.

Crisanto cursed as his bullet narrowly missed the beast’s twisting form.

Before either of them could react, another rifle fired—this time from the ridge above.

Ignacio.

Perched atop a jagged rock formation, his silhouette was framed against the lanternlight. His rifle gleamed as he adjusted his aim, determination etched across his face.

Luzia clicked her tongue. Of course, he was here.

She shifted, preparing to reposition—

But then, another presence entered the fray.

Isidro.

His heavier footsteps crunched against the underbrush as he sprinted in from the opposite direction, his weapon trained on the beast. Unlike the others, his face betrayed no amusement or irritation—just cold, calculating efficiency.

And just like that, they were all here.

I will not lose this target.

The same thought echoed through all four of them.

Then the beast lunged.

Luzia knew she couldn’t win with speed or power alone. Ignacio’s rifle was too precise, Isidro’s aim too steady, and Crisanto’s reflexes too quick. If she played this like a straight fight, she’d lose.

So she didn’t.

Instead of immediately firing, she shifted—just barely—a subtle movement that placed her between the beast and the others.

As expected, gunfire erupted.

Crisanto and Isidro fired almost simultaneously, aiming for the beast’s head. Ignacio, from above, adjusted for its movement and fired a fraction of a second later.

But Luzia wasn’t aiming for the beast.

She fired first—directly into the path of their bullets.

The moment her dark blue bullet made contact, the air rippled with an unnatural pulse.

The combined force of their attacks didn’t amplify—it collapsed.

The moment her bullet struck theirs, the force unraveled, freezing the attacks midair for the briefest moment. Their shots lost momentum, scattering into harmless flickers of energy.

It was a trick. A gamble. That had flashed in her mind like a faint memory fragment.

And it worked.

For half a second, their bullets never reached the target.

That was all she needed.

With a single, decisive breath, Luzia shifted her aim and fired again.

The dark blue bullet streaked through the air—striking the beast just as it twisted mid-leap, trying to escape.

Impact.

The phantom beast froze, locked in place by the unnatural energy.

Then—

Shatter.

Silver mist erupted, dissolving into nothing.

The final kill was hers.

Luzia lowered her gun, pulse pounding, barely able to process what had just happened.

The others stared.

Crisanto’s jaw dropped. "Wait—what the hell?" His eyes sparkled with something close to admiration. "That was so cool."

Isidro remained unreadable, but his grip on his gun tightened.

Ignacio, standing on the ridge, clenched his jaw, rifle still raised.

She had outplayed them.

She had won.

Above, on the stone balcony, Benedicta’s lips curved—just slightly.

"Clever. I expected nothing less from Duke Ramiro’s daughter," Benedicta murmured, watching Luzia with newfound interest.

Duke Alejandro turned to her with a polite smile. "Did you enjoy the game, Princess?"

She met his gaze, her own expression unreadable. Then, with perfect poise, she smiled. "Of course, Duke."

But inwardly, her thoughts whispered:

She’s still the same...

Nothing has changed—

Except she doesn’t remember...

Isn’t that to my advantage?