As I walked through the door and into the next room, the door closed without a sound.
　There was another door at a distance, and it too was closed tightly.

　And there was a large number of monsters.

　This time it was a giant butterfly, about the size of an unfolded bath towel.
　Its wings were red in color, and something extremely colorful was constantly spilling out of its flapping wings.

　Scales......?　The word "I" popped into my mind, but I'm not sure of it now because of the color.

'First of all, as usual,'

　I switch to my normal gun and shoot normal bullets.
　I've trained my gun arm to the point where it can maintain an infinitely close to 100% accuracy rate in a circular dungeon if I focus on it--but it's not.

　Just before the bullets hit, the butterfly fluttered and changed its trajectory, and the bullets missed.

　I fire more consecutive shots.
　I widen my aim a bit, hit it normally, and cover the target I avoided.
　I fired in rapid succession like that.

　The monster fluttered and flew on an irregular trajectory unique to butterflies and dodged all the bullets.

''That's high, evasion rate.''

　He puts his gun away and kicks the ground to flesh out one of the butterflies.
　He clenches his fist and fires a punch - but

　The wind pressure of the fist pushes it off.

'It looks more like dandelion fluff than a butterfly.

　I tried to grab it, but it was too light and the airflow when I moved would just blow it away.

　Butterflies fluttered their wings and scales flew out of the air.
　I kick the ground in a hurry, flying backwards to avoid it.

　The movement of the scales was completely aimed at me and headed towards me, which means it's an attack of some sort.
　It's been quoted that this kind of attack is tricky to eat, so I kept a large distance from it to avoid touching it as much as possible.

　Fortunately, a butterfly was a butterfly.
　It was a rudderless movement, and it didn't come at you all at once.

　Even so, the butterflies in the room were all coming towards us at once, and although they were slow, because they were in a large swarm, a slow and heavy pressure surged in.

'If it's not a hit--it's a tracking bullet.

　With a familiar hand, I reload the tracking round and shoot.

　A homing trajectory and flying tracking bullet - the butterfly fluttered away just before!

'You're avoiding that too!　Ah.

　I rammed into it, but it wasn't finished.

　The tracked projectile that was dodged turned around gingerly and flew again towards the butterfly.
　The butterfly dodged it further, the tracking projectile circled around and headed towards it again.

　The circles became smaller and smaller each time I dodged and turned - each time I did so, the circle(!) became smaller and smaller.
　The chase between the bullets and the butterfly continued in a circle, and eventually the circle narrowed, and the bullets caught up to the butterfly and shot out, as if they had reached the center.

'Don't do it,'

　Both, I thought.

　The tracking rounds that chased me until they hit, and the butterflies that kept dodging until there was no way to avoid them were butterflies.

　I pulled out my two pistols and fired a series of tracking rounds.
　All the butterflies began to spin around with the tracking rounds.

　Seeing that scene, I felt nostalgic for some reason.
　What is it?　This nostalgia.

...... Ah, the time I played with drawing pins as a solitary piece of music at recess.

　I giggled as the memories connected all at once.

　I remember when I was in elementary school, especially on a rainy day, there was nothing to play with in the classroom, so I remembered pulling out one or two pushpins to put up a bulletin board and turning them around like a dictatorship.

　I liked to play with them by turning multiple studs on my desk at the same time and fitting them into the grooves on my desk or holes I had made with pranksters (I usually filled them with eraser shavings).

　I remembered those times and watched the butterflies and tracking bullets spin.
　It was nostalgic and fun, even though I was attacking a dungeon.

　After a while, the bullets caught up with the butterflies one by one and shot through them.

　Once all the butterflies were shot out, another ticket was dropped and the entrance and exit doors opened at the same time.

　Now, what next?