Boom. Boom. Boom.

The sound of Sayaka's revolver rang out three times in the still night air, each shot signalling another bullseye on the targets laid out before her a few hundred yards away. No matter the state of the world - nor the world in question, for that matter - the Saika Faction commander maintained a certain standard for her marksmanship that she refused to ever fall below.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

It was such complacence that had gotten the previous Magoichi killed by the Demon King. But not her. Sayaka would never falter, never miss her mark and most of all, never let herself be caught off-guard.

A sharp whistle emanated from somewhere behind her and she spun around quickly, fully aware that the weapon in her hand was currently empty, but there were very few that could possibly realise that from observation alone. The man before her was one such man.

"That's some pretty fancy shooting there, my lady," he greeted with a cocky tone and a cockier bow.

He was a handsome man; a scraggly, yet rugged beard coating his jaw, and a short ponytail reaching down the back of his neck. His attire consisted of greens, browns, beiges, blacks; all the colours one would need to effectively camouflage themselves in the lush greenery of the nearby forest. But what stood out most to Sayaka was the weapon he rested across his right shoulder: a simple matchlock rifle with a bayonet attached below the muzzle of the barrel. From what she understood, there was only one warrior of note in this world that wielded such a firearm.

"Saika Magoichi, I presume," she said simply, her tone calculatingly conveying none of her inner thoughts.

He smirked. His being pleased with the fact that his reputation had spread across the land was very evident in his expression.

"Ah, you've heard of me. That should make things simpler then. How would an enchanting woman like you like to go out for a drink with me?"

Sayaka frowned very slightly. She had heard that this Magoichi was perhaps more infamous for his womanising ways than for his incredible skill with firearms, which itself was not something to underestimate. Seeing that the rumours were true was somewhat disheartening for Sayaka. In truth, she had secretly hoped that it was not true, that is was misinformation - spread either by some enemy force to sully his reputation, or perhaps by the man himself to downplay his skills - and that he would turn out to be much closer to her predecessor than the clown she had heard him to be.

"I'm afraid I don't have time for such frivolity," she replied in a polite, yet stern tone. "Besides, I'm sure a dashing rogue such as you would have no trouble finding another woman to drink with you," she continued with just a hint of antagonistic sarcasm, hoping he would take the hint and leave her be.

He shook his head. "No, no, dear lady. While it's true that my natural charisma draws the ladies in like moths to a flame-" (Sayaka rolled her eyes in disgust) "-I'm a man with very high standards for female companionship. Only the the most beautiful flowers are fit to bloom by my side."

Sayaka was unsure which of the two Magoichi was trying to laud more with his asinine proclamations, but she very much desired to have him leave as soon as humanly possible. However, she feared that taking an abrasive approach might only intensify his resolve to make her putty in his hands. She was hesitant to resort to violence if at all possible, especially since, though she was loathe to admit it, he didn't strike her as a bad person; merely misguided and highly susceptible to his vices. It truly was a shame he wasn't more like her predecessor.

That was when it hit her. He had not yet referred to her by name, indicating that he saw her only as a fellow marksman who happened to be female. There was indeed a nonviolent tactic she could implement to put a stop to his agitating ramblings. She flashed a smile to the best of her abilities, trying to prevent it becoming a confident smirk to rival his own.

"But, Lord Magoichi, you don't even know my name yet," she said in a lighter, more feminine tone.

"Oh, of course; how callous of me. Might I ask your name, my lady?" He took the bait.

"Of course, my lord. In my world, I am known as Saika Magoichi." Sayaka made sure to emphasise and enunciate those two words in her usual tone to drive the point home.

Magoichi froze. "What? You mean... I... You...?"

"I am you, yes. Does that surprise you?" In theory, it shouldn't surprise anyone. After all, the only other person in either world who took firearms seriously as a primary weapon was her world's Nōhime.

Magoichi was totally unresponsive. He was frozen in place as if caught in a blizzard, an expression of extreme shock plastered across his admittedly handsome features. Sayaka nudged his chest with the barrel of her revolver and he fell backwards, collapsing in an unmoving heap on the ground. Sayaka spared only a moment to stare down at him before shrugging and turning back towards her shooting range, her perverted counterpart completely removed from her mind.

Boom. Boom Boom.