"...Damian, wait–"
Salazar’s voice cracked slightly as Damian turned to leave.
Damian stopped and looked back, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
Salazar stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the ground.
His expression was conflicted, torn between duty and principle, fear and courage.
"They forced to sever our official relationship. They demanded I stop teaching you."
His hands clenched at his sides.
"But they can’t actually stop from showing you sothing right now, in this mont, before you leave."
Understanding dawned in Damian’s eyes.
"I can’t be your master anymore after today. But for the next hour, for right now, technically our relationship hasn’t officially ended yet."
Salazar picked up his gun, checking the chamber with practiced efficiency.
"So I’m going to teach you the remaining levels of Oga Point. All of them. Everything that I know.
However much you can absorb and understand based on your own comprehension, that’s yours to keep."
He moved to the firing position, his professional deanor sliding back into place.
"Watch carefully. I’m only doing this once."
Salazar raised his gun and aid at a distant target – a massive boulder at least a kiloter away.
"Level Three of Oga Point is based on the principle of Spatial Severance called Channel Shot.
You’ve mastered Level Two’s Convergence Shot, where your bullet harvests ambient Aura as it travels and grows stronger with distance."
His Aura began building, far more than Damian had ever seen him use before.
"Level Three takes that principle further. The bullet doesn’t just harvest Aura – it compresses space itself around the projectile."
BOOM.
The shot was different from anything Damian had seen before.
The bullet left the barrel and imdiately reality seed to warp around it.
The air itself cracked and shattered like broken glass as the projectile tore through space.
The trajectory wasn’t straight. It curved impossibly, bending around obstacles, as if the bullet was choosing its own path through folded dinsions.
When it hit the distant boulder, the impact didn’t just destroy the rock.
It erased it.
A perfect sphere of empty space appeared where the boulder had been, edges so clean and smooth it looked like reality itself had been scooped out.
"The spatial compression allows you to change the bullet’s direction mid-flight by manipulating the folds you create.
You can curve shots around cover using your will power, hit targets from impossible angles, and the impact damage increases exponentially because you’re not just delivering kinetic force – you’re delivering spatial rupture."
Salazar’s voice was clinical now, falling into lecture mode.
"The key is understanding that space isn’t fixed. It’s flexible and malleable. Your Aura can fold it like paper if you have the will and control."
He reloaded smoothly.
"Level Four is called Singularity Shot. Watch closely because this is where theory becos art."
His Aura changed quality entirely. It beca dense, oppressive, warping the air around him.
"At this level, you’re not just compressing space – you’re punching through multiple layers of reality simultaneously. One bullet becos many, each one existing in a slightly different dinsional layer."
BOOM.
This ti, five different impacts appeared across five different targets simultaneously, even though Salazar had only fired once.
The single bullet had split across dinsional boundaries, creating multiple versions of itself that all existed and hit their marks at the exact sa mont.
"Each version is real and each of them has an impact that is genuine. You’re essentially firing one shot that exists in five places at once by fragnting it across spatial layers."
Salazar lowered his gun, his Aura dissipating slowly.
"And then there’s Level Five."
His expression beca distant, almost wistful.
"I’ve never achieved it myself. It’s purely theoretical based on extrapolating from the patterns of previous levels.
But the concept is this: if Level Four splits one bullet across multiple dinsions, Level Five would allow you to fire a bullet that exists in all dinsions simultaneously."
"What would that even look like?"
Damian asked, genuinely curious.
"I honestly don’t know. A shot that can’t miss because it hits every possible location at once? A bullet that transcends causality itself? It’s beyond my understanding."
Salazar set his gun down on the table with finality.
"But I believe it’s possible. I believe soone talented enough, soone with enough understanding and will, could reach that level."
He looked directly at Damian.
"I hope that soone is you. I hope one day you’ll master Level Five and prove it’s not just theory. That would make all of this worth it sohow. And...
It would make Oga Point reach SS rank grade. The first gun weapon art in history to ever achieve this level."
Damian stood silently for a mont, processing everything he’d just witnessed and learned.
Then he spoke, his voice quiet but firm.
"I owe you a favor, Professor Blackwood. This is a genuine debt. Whenever you need sothing from , anything at all, you can ask. I’ll do everything in my power to help."
Salazar’s expression crumbled completely.
As Damian turned and walked away, the professor stood frozen, watching his forr student’s back disappear into the distance.
’What favor? What right does a master who abandoned his disciple have to ask for favors?
This kid... he never talked about debts or favors when I was teaching him officially. He just learned and improved and occasionally thanked politely.
But now, when I’m forced to cut him loose, when I’m choosing my family over his future, he treats what I taught him today as a personal favor.
As if... he’s not the one being monuntally screwed over by circumstances completely beyond his control.’
Salazar’s hands clenched into fists so tight his nails cut into his palms.
Blood dripped slowly onto the ground.
He looked up at the sky, clouds drifting slowly overhead, and felt sothing break inside his chest.
’I might have just made the biggest mistake of my entire life.
That kid is going to change the world one day. I can see it in his eyes, in his conviction, in the way he refuses to be broken by injustice.
And I’ll be rembered as the coward who abandoned him when he needed guidance most. Abandoned him... when he was being oppressed by my very own people.
All because I was too afraid to get my loved ones involved.’
The realization was crushing.
Salazar stood alone in the empty shooting range, staring at nothing, as the weight of his choice settled onto his shoulders like chains.
And sowhere in the distance, Damian walked away without looking back, his mind already cataloging the techniques he’d witnessed and planning how to master them without a teacher’s guidance.
And the consequences of yesterday’s violence were only beginning to unfold.
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