《The Immortal Rankings》 50 - Torakawa Katashi
Match 1 #51, Nimia Altamirano vs. #50 Katashi ¡°The White Tiger¡± Torakawa
The Byakko Bar was an old place, established at least three generations ago. To be blunt, it was a dive bar, the exact type of filthy shithole that some people avoided like a mass grave while others flocked right to. The latter was even understandable for those who could look from another¡¯s point of view. The seediness, the debauchery, it all had an atmosphere that could pull a person, fascinated by the smokes and scents wafting out from its under its door, into the wooden maw of a faded tiger. The interior wasn¡¯t anything too special. Round tables, round stools, and neon signs to light up the room, but there was enough of an atmosphere that one could fumble and falter enough to trip their way past the press of bodies and watchful eyes. If they were the indulgent type, they¡¯d drink and talk, and hear something interesting. If they were the curious type, they¡¯d look to the staircase leading down, with its own bouncer standing at the top. If they were the brave type, or just really damn curious or stupid or any combination of traits looking for something, somewhere, they¡¯d pay the fee and go down. Nimia didn¡¯t pay the fee. The bouncer slumped down to the floor, his head cracked hard against the doorframe. In the depths of the bar, there was what could loosely be called a fighting ring. Loosely, because it was more akin to a killing floor. Sometimes, two people of an even match would get to go at it, but the main draw of the bar was the old man sitting on a stool in the middle of the ring. He was old, he was weathered, and he was very well built. Taller than most, about 6¡¯2¡±, and shockingly solid for a man with entirely white hair. He took a deep drag of his cigarette as he slouched forward, baring the white tiger on his back to all who would enter his ring. It was broad and intricate, set pushing itself up on a number of stones, roaring its challenge to the world amid a field of bones. A pair of black slacks and a belt were all he wore, his feet bare in the sand of the ring. Nimia¡¯s boots kicked up that sand as she stepped down the stairs. A cage circled them up above, and the gate to the stairs slammed home into the ground. ¡°So this is it?¡± Katashi Torakawa took another drag of his cigarette, his voice harsh and deep. ¡°Another dumb bitch looking for a challenge steps into my cage, is that it? Looking to prove yourself, bitch?¡± ¡°Nope. Just here for your number,¡± she answered, walking over to the other stool, up against the wall. ¡°Ha, great. Just another stupid fuck trying to take advantage. What, you think you¡¯re hot shit? You think you can fucking take me? You ain¡¯t nothin¡¯.¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t say that.¡± She shrugged off her black suit jacket. Under it, she wore a white button-up and two shoulder holsters. She pulled the steel-gray semi-automatics from it and set them down on the stool. ¡°Hmph. So you¡¯re not completely fucking stupid. If you tried to use either of those, I would¡¯ve killed you on fucking principle.¡± ¡°Sure you would. C¡¯mon Tashi, let¡¯s not lie to each other. You know why I¡¯m not using these.¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re a stupid bitch. You think you¡¯re the first? You see how many fucking bodies they haven¡¯t pulled out yet?¡± She counted three. ¡°They¡¯re not me, and they didn¡¯t have numbers.¡± He paused, then finally looked over at her. He had dark eyes. She had green eyes. His skin was a light tan, hers was brown. His hair was white, short, and thin. Hers was black and cropped short. His eyes went to her right arm. ¡°What the fuck is that supposed to be? You think you¡¯re going to kill me with that shit?¡± Her hand there was a steel gray, like every part of her right arm, up to her shoulder.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°No, I think I¡¯m going to kill you, Mr. Fifty.¡± His eyes went up to her face. She undid the top button and turned slightly to show her neck. ¡°Fuck. A fucking fifty-one.¡± He stood, then kicked the stool away, facing her. The 50 was visible on his left pec in stark white. He was about an inch shorter than her. ¡°Of course it¡¯s a fucking fifty-one coming in here like she¡¯s hot fucking shit. You think you¡¯re the first? I been killing bitches with that number for thirty fucking years now. You think you¡¯re hot shit? You think you can just kill one bitch and it makes the rest easy?¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t just one.¡± He sneered. ¡°Please, bitch. I know your fucking type. You think you can fucking skip ahead? Just jump right to fifty-one and then it¡¯s all a go ahead! Fuck you. You know what the fucking first did? Prick earned that shit by killing one fucking thousand. You start at a fucking thousand?¡± ¡°Eighty-six. Call it luck, call it fate, but I wound up killing him either way. He was a prick anyway. Plantation guy, liked to hire raiders, couldn¡¯t take no for an answer. Carved a neat little niche.¡± She tapped the center of her forehead. ¡°Axe, right there.¡± ¡°...Ha. Fucking bitch. Should¡¯ve started at a hundred, but fuck it. You¡¯re still a fucking pussy who went for tech over life.¡± Torakawa settled into a stance, rear foot, and Nimia simply raised her fists. ¡°You a fucking amateur or some shit?¡± Torakawa¡¯s eyes narrowed. She looked like a boxer. ¡°Talk talk talk. Frail old cats roar the loudest.¡± His eye twitched, and he took a step right as she moved far faster than he expected. He caught one punch, almost chided her, wanted to break the metal fist and just barely moved from the sudden palm thrust that would have snapped his arm at the elbow. She was a shit load faster than he thought. Decades of experience kept him moving, bobbing and weaving around closed fists punches, then ducking an elbow but when he tried to hit back she twisted around hisright and backed up. Torakawa¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You¡¯re trained.¡± ¡°You noticed.¡± ¡°Who the fuck trained you?¡± ¡°Keep watching, kitty. Maybe you¡¯ll figure it out.¡± His eye twitched. The next minute was a flurry of motion and he was pissed as all hell to see her dodge and deflect every hit. Palm strikes moved into kicks as he drew on years of experience, and those years were telling him the bitch was playing with him. A low growl slipped from his mouth as she bounced on her feet, only the tiniest of smirks on her face. ¡°C¡¯mon kitty. You know what works best for you. Show me your beast.¡± He growled again, his body vibrating in a building rage. Slowly, a golden aura flowed over his skin, signalling his burning fury. ¡°I¡¯ll rip you to shreds, bitch.¡± ¡°Better.¡± She was smirking far more clearly now. His fingers popped and he swung heavily, speed and power mixing in his fingernails to form deadly claws, ready to rend and tear through the smug bitch that was still dodging his every damn move- The first hit came as a complete shock to him. It wasn¡¯t even a full, high kick, just the abrupt push of her foot into his ankle right as he lunged again, but he felt the shock of pain regardless, and then her arms were around one of his and he barely kept himself from howling as she snapped it straight in half. She wrenched it back and kept moving even as he tried to break her grip, twisting around his back and yanking his ruined arm across it. There was a horrible pop and he couldn¡¯t keep from screaming, trying to, somehow, kick at her but she just drove him to the ground and suddenly she was wrenching his other arm straight upward and he screamed again as it popped too. And then her arms were around his neck and she pulled him up, her knee on his back. His back snapped first, and he just gaped, trying to stare back at the face of his killer. ¡°Y-Y-You¡­¡± ¡°Me. I win.¡± ¡°...N-N-Not y-y-yet. Y-You...You have to finish it.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°Hah. You really were prepared for me...So quick too.¡± He could barely see her face. She¡¯d dropped the violent smile she¡¯d had in favor of a neutral frown. Both her hands were on the sides of his face. ¡°You¡¯ve certainly earned this number.¡± ¡°I know I did. You got anything important to say?¡± ¡°Heh. The title, The White Tiger, is yours, should you wish it.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take it, sure. But I plan to make my own titles, Torakawa.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Such a nice girl...Careful now. Many of these people don¡¯t care for honor.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t really care either.¡± He couldn¡¯t help the bark of laughter that slipped out. ¡°Tahahahaha! You really are a nice girl then¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m really not,¡± Nimia muttered. And then she twisted. His neck snapped easily in her hands, a loud, vicious crack echoing through the room as his body twitched once, then stilled.
51 -> 50
Nimia felt a faint burning on her neck as the numbers twisted, a 1 becoming a 0. She retrieved her jacket and guns, and left. No one stopped her, but whispers sprung up like flowers in her footsteps. A new 50 was out there. The Rankings had begun again. 49 - Andr茅 Allard
Match 2 #50 Nimia Altamirano vs #49 Andr¨¦ ¡°The Cop¡± Allard
As far as caf¨¦s went, Tous les M¨ºmes was a decent one. Open and inviting, placed on the corner of two well-maintained streets in a peaceful borough, the pale-green building had a very pleasant air to it. Nimia could see why the 49 preferred it. Detective Allard seemed to make it a point to always buy from the pleasant place in the mornings and would often relax there in the afternoons. The ones he had off, of course. She sat in the chair directly across from his, earning a raised eyebrow from the detective, a cup of coffee up to his lips. Allard was a middle-aged man, a thick black mustache covering his upper lip while the hair on his head was visibly receding. He was wearing a dark blue jacket and matching pants, his buttoned up shirt as black as his shiny shoes. ¡°Can I help you?¡± He asked in a tone that implied he had no intention of helping her as he lowered his cup. ¡°In a sense. I¡¯m the current fifty.¡± To his credit, he didn¡¯t bolt. To the civvies¡¯ credit, those that heard immediately started vacating their tables and, in a show of impressive compassion, were kind enough to start whispering it around the shop. Allard set his cup down on the table, glaring at her. ¡°Bullshit.¡± So maybe he wasn¡¯t brave, just stupid. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± He snorted. ¡°Do you know who the current fifty is? Torakawa¡¯s a hard and brutal bastard. Some random chit wouldn¡¯t take him down, and I doubt you¡¯re smart enough to know what that means for you if you try shit here.¡± ¡°Enlighten me.¡± His brow furrowed, giving his eyes a dark cast. ¡°You should know how the rankings work.¡± ¡°Explain it like I¡¯m a toddler then.¡± ¡°Stop fucking around. I don¡¯t have time for your bullshit.¡± But he didn¡¯t stand. ¡°Sure, okay. Let me try then. When someone kills a person with a ranking, then that ranking transfers to them. Traditionally, the way to move up in the ranks is to gain a low number and work up from there. Some people do things different, but once you get to, say, fifty and above, the rule becomes more...ironclad.¡± She smiled. ¡°A rando can¡¯t kill the forty-nine. Not until they kill the fifty. Way I¡¯ve heard it, fate, luck, something, actively conspires to ruin any attempt, and it has to be a real, valid, strong attempt. There are ways around it, but the people who can take that kinda way will go for the higher ranks.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Forty-nine is in a nice enough place where they get ignored by the truly strong and automatically survive the weak. Shame for you though.¡± Nimia tugged down the collar of her shirt, baring her 50. Allard went stiff at the sight. ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this.¡± ¡°...Oh?¡± ¡°You...You understand I¡¯m a detective, right? I¡¯m law enforcement. Rest of the Lemuro Police-¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t do shit. I¡¯m the Fifty. You¡¯re the Forty-Nine. We know how this works.¡± He swallowed, pale. ¡°Please. Please, I didn¡¯t¨CI never even wanted this!¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what¡¯s that mean?¡± He lifted his coffee to his lips and took another drink, then set it down and leaned back, sighing deep and heavy. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to join these damn rankings. It was...It was an accident!¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes, really! I...I was on the job, and a suspect had just murdered a woman. Sadistic son of a bitch had made a hobby of it! I...I shot him, and that was that. But then this damn number showed up on my shoulder and suddenly I was in the damn game!¡± ¡°Serial, or contract?¡± He blinked. ¡°...What?¡± ¡°Was it a serial killing, like he was doing it out of some internal drive, or was it for money?¡± ¡°...Does it matter?¡± ¡°Should. You said it was his hobby?¡± ¡°Wh-Yes. Yes, of course it-What are you getting at?¡± ¡°I¡¯m asking questions. I wanted to know a little about the previous forty-nine, if they were more...impressive.¡± Allard glared at her, rhythmically tapping a finger on the table. ¡°I don¡¯t have to take this.¡± ¡°We both know you do, and we both know why you do. See, I can get if he was a serial killer. Maybe that¡¯s what brought you to him. You¡¯re a homicide detective, that¡¯s the kind of person you go after. So you get there, wherever he was, you have an excuse, and you shoot him. By some fluke, some quirk of fate, it works, and boom, you¡¯re the forty-nine.¡± ¡°I...It wasn¡¯t a-I hadn¡¯t planned-¡± ¡°No, see, I¡¯m sure you did, because of the first fucking rule you goddamn dipshit. ¡®An unranked can only enter the rankings by intentionally killing a ranked.¡¯ No accidents. No slips. It has to be premeditated. You can maybe, just fucking maybe, join in a heat of the moment decision, but there has to be the intention to join. Intent matters. ¡°You made a choice to join the ranks, just like you¡¯re making the choice to point your gun at my gut.¡± Allard¡¯s eyes widened. The dumbass thought she hadn¡¯t noticed his hand under the table. She leaned back, and smirked. Her left hand rested on the inside of her jacket. The barista at the counter was watching, nervous anticipation on her face behind the projected shield. Smart investment. Kept out bullets from would-be robbers and raiders. Or just two dumb bastards about to shoot each other. A coffee maker beeped. Allard shot first. He had his finger on the trigger, he could shoot, and shoot he did even as Nimia drew her own pistol and fired thrice. Blood and brains painted the wall behind him, two in his forehead and one through his nose as he fell back.
50 -> 49
She smirked, and placed the semi-automatic back in its holster. She stood, patted herself down, and looked at the wall behind her. Four misses. Funny that. Nimia gave the barista a jaunty salute and walked right out, whistling. She was making some good progress. 48 - Jerome Lynch
Match 3 #49 Nimia Altamirano vs #48 Jerome ¡°The Raider¡± Lynch
The sight on the tv was a sudden, bizarre one for most of the world. To those in the know, though, it came as a familiar surprise and, in some cases, a horrible shock. On screens all over the world, a man was visible, becoming clearer through crackling static. His skin was pitch-black, like living shadows, and his eyes were a bright, solid, ruby red, but when the bald man in the black suit smiled, his teeth were a pearly white. ¡°Good evening everyone! Ladies and gents, gals and pals, bitches and pricks, binaries and trinities alike, my fondest fuckin¡¯ greetings to all y¡¯all! It¡¯s been thirty odd years since a lotta you last heard my voice, but here I am, as I always am and always have been, the voice of all bloodstained fuckfaces out there, your eternal friend, Nero!¡± The man laughed loud, clapping his hands for himself as shot after shot sounded through the room, none hitting the tv. ¡°Ah, and not the ancient emperor, if you¡¯re curious, though I won¡¯t mind if¡¯n you call me king! Or master~. Nehahaha~! ¡°But, onto more important matters, we¡¯ve got news!¡± Nero said, beaming wide as a mook in leathers was thrown straight into two of his fellows, blood leaking from the bullet holes spread out all over his body. ¡°Big news, important news, very, very significant news if you happen to have a number on your skin.¡± Five bullets slammed home as the Nero paused dramatically. Four corpses dropped and the 48 howled in rage, swinging his axe hard through a wrecked car. ¡°The rankings have officially started up again.¡± His low chuckle echoed through the garage as the bleeding brute swung and cleaved right through a steel pillar, blood leaking through his brown leather mask. ¡°You heard it here first folks! Well, plenty of you did. Some might¡¯ve heard it already, spread it around, but my point is, the Fifty is dead and the Forty-Nine followed soon after! So now we got a new Forty-Nine out there, and boy, this bitch is an impressive one! ¡°Working her way up from Eighty-Six, give or take, a young lady by the name of Nimia Altamirano is our newest and best contender dear plagues and preachers, and by the sounds of it, she¡¯s currently taking on Jerry Lynch, a real piece of work from the southern chunk of Miconti! ¡°If you¡¯re thinking big-ass bastard who wears too much leather and rides a lotta guzzlers as he raids and rapes his way through wasteland and border settlements, you¡¯d be right on track! Bianca, baby, how about a little history?¡± The screen switched to a beaming woman as a rolling rack of wrenches was kicked in 48¡¯s path and another shot rang out and ripped through his eye, sending him stumbling backward and howling in pain as he clutched the ruined socket. ¡°Thanks Near!¡± The woman was actually pretty normal when compared to her otherworldly colleague, her skin a natural, if pale, shade of white while her eyes were sparkling blue. Her short hair was white too, with just a few hints of gray up towards the top, but her face was youthful in that artificial way that spoke of a synthetic being. She wore a white three-piece suit, though hers had a black undershirt¨Cand a white tie¨Cand she twirled a white stick between her fingers before pointing it up at the wall behind her. ¡°Now, as you can see here,¡± she said as the wall switched to a display of a greasy caucasian man, his brown-black hair limp around his head while his face was covered in a mix of rough patches of facial hair and terrible scars, ¡°Jerome Lynch was never exactly going to be a successful man. No, he was born into the raider life by raider parents and he took to it with reckless abandon!¡± The guns were out and a machete, appropriated from the corpses, swung to catch the shaft of the 48¡¯s axe. ¡°Perhaps, if he had a chance, he could¡¯ve been good, you might think?¡± ¡°Ha! Don¡¯t put words into my mouth, Bia babe~!¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure I can fit other things in there later~. Now, you, dear viewers, might think that, but no, Near¡¯s as right as ever. Jerry may have been a victim of his upbringing, but he¡¯s not one that¡¯s ever tried to get out of it.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Exactly, Bia babe! He¡¯s lived large all his life, and he loves the murder, the mayhem, the horror on the faces of his victims! So don¡¯t pity the sick fuck, because we sure ain¡¯t!¡± ¡°No, we definitely are not. Back with his story, he joined the rankings a number of years ago, and he¡¯s lived large with the benefits that come with it for quite some time. These benefits have allowed him to expand his operations all throughout the South, ranging from Bajate to New Kansas, though his main holding of territory is in a small slice of Old Luanna, right around here.¡± She gestured at the map of a cracked country on screen as a hard cut split the fingers from 48¡¯s right hand, earning another howl that was rewarded with a sharp, jaw-smashing punch. His axe fell, was grabbed, and swung deep into his stomach as Bianca snapped her fingers. ¡°Oh, Near!¡± ¡°Yes my dear?¡± ¡°We have something our audience needs to hear!¡± ¡°Now what could that be-eer? Beer. Be...fuck. Right, shit, fucked that up.¡± Bianca giggled as the axe was torn free and swung again, only for 48 to duck it with surprising speed and tackle his opponent right around the midsection. ¡°So what¡¯s the sitch, bitch?¡± ¡°Ha! Ah, careful now, or I¡¯ll have to treat you rough later~. Anyways, shouldn¡¯t we explain the rules of the rankings?¡± A double axe hand smashed straight into his skull, but he held firm and strained to ram his opponent against the wall. ¡°Hmmm...good point! After all, not everybody knows them! Some people are children, after all!¡± He slipped on his own blood and a hard knee smashed his nose through the mask. ¡°Oh, right, parents, don¡¯t let your kids watch our programming. Really, we¡¯re not nice people.¡± Dazed and bloody, 48 could barely struggle as his opponent walked away from his prone body. ¡°Speak for yourself, I¡¯m plenty nice! Especially under the right circumstances~.¡± Nero laughed at his own joke, echoed by a surprised yelp followed by a rough crash when an engine block smashed the 48¡¯s head.
49 -> 48
His foot, the one that had been shot quite early on, twitched once, before his corpse went still. ¡°But, onto the important shit, the Rules of the Rankings! Shit you¡¯re gonna need to know if any of this will make sense!¡± The new 48 paused, walked over to a chair, and sat down, scratching at her newly scarred cheek as she decided to see if this was anything worth watching. ¡°Rule one, the most important rule, the one you need to know if you want to join in the fun and games! ¡®A prospective contender must kill a ranked contender in order to enter the rankings! This is the only way into the ranks¡¯! So you got that? If you wanna join up, you need to find someone, anyone, who already has a number and kill them. Doesn¡¯t matter how you do the nasty deed, but fair warning, the higher the number, the harder it is to claim it. ¡°Rule dos, also important! No kids! ¡®Children are not allowed to participate in the rankings¡¯! Got that brats? No underage murder in this shitshow! ¡°Rule trois! ¡®Any sapient being can join so long as they don¡¯t violate rule two¡¯! So if you¡¯re smart enough to think and plan, you too can join up in a worldwide death game! ¡°Finally, unless something major happens, rule shi! ¡®Once you have a rank, you can only lose it when someone else takes it¡¯! That means no backdowns! You join the ranks, you fucking commit to it! Either rise to the top, or wait for someone to claim your number, because once you take that step, there¡¯s no going back!¡± The screen switched back to Bianca, who beamed and clapped her hands together. ¡°So really, do be sure that you really, really want to join the rankings before you try anything dumb, kay?¡± Then back to Nero. ¡°So for those of you already in or seriously looking to join, con-grat-yu-fuckin¡¯-lations! The main games have begun again and you have plenty of chances to move right on up! So give it your best, work hard, kill hard, fuck hard, and shoot all your bloody rockets for the white moon up in her deep black bed! Remember, even if you miss, you still land in the stars, burning bright and fast!¡± He laughed, loud and boisterous again, before giving the viewers a jaunty salute. ¡°So that¡¯s all for now folks! Tune in whenever we come on again for the next killing show! This¡¯s been Nero-!¡± ¡°And Bianca~!¡± ¡°Signin¡¯ off!¡± The tv flashed into a black screen. Nimia scratched her cheek again, then chuckled, still feeling the adrenaline pulsing through her. ¡°So now they come after me too...alright then. It¡¯s officially starting, for real now.¡± Her grin was wide and unhinged as she made her way through the bloodstained floors. ¡°All odds against me¡­¡± A manic little giggle slipped out as she climbed onto her brand new monstrous motorcycle, its massive, spiked tires matching the crazed style of her most recent win. She grinned at the open garage door, out at the night, filled with souls gunning or getting prepared for her. All odds against her. ¡°Ha! Ha ha ha ha! What a better way to win?!¡± There was a roar of noise as the newest 48 came blazing out of the ruined garage and through a compound of brutalized raiders, corpses strewing the streets and walls. The Rankings had already begun. It was only now though, that the Challenge really started. 47 - Vicente Kanashiro de Magalh?es
Match 4 #48 Nimia Altamirano vs #47 Vicente "The Sunrise" Kanashiro de Magalh?es
A motorcycle pulled up outside Nascer da Lua only about a week after what was being called the ¡°Rankings Broadcast¡±. It was an ugly bike: massive, covered in spikes, and roughly painted the colors of rust and dried blood. Its engine roared into the surrounding district, disrupting the nightlife for many on a street lined with clubs. Many were shocked to see such a horrific thing within the boundaries of civilized society, but more quickly realized the significance of its presence. And when the woman on it got off, people parted before her. The line wasn¡¯t for her, and the bouncer at the door let her through with a stoic silence. She was expected. The interior of the two-story club was loud. Bumping, rhythmic music sounded out of massive speakers all around the room. An oblivious DJ played atop a stage above the dance floor where dozens of patrons partied without worry, their figures alternately obscured and illuminated by the flashing lights, fast enough to kill an epileptic soul in seconds. The second floor was her destination, but not the curved platforms locked into the walls over the lower floor. No, she was headed to the office taking up the left wall, in between the upper walkways. Three large windows marked its location, and Nimia couldn¡¯t help but smirk as she saw her target, obscured by tinted windows yet obviously staring down at her. Better not keep him waiting. Soon enough, after a quick walk up the stairs past a door marked ¡®staff only¡¯, she saw the other side of that glass. The 47¡¯s office was wide. Multiple couches around, yet all his suited men stood. Some in black, some in dark blues, most pinstriped with red or yellow ties and open collars. Records lined the far right wall. Weapons lined the far left. They were decorative weaponry mostly, beautifully crafted and displayed as ornaments. Or maybe trophies 47, de Magalh?es, sat in a leather swivel chair near the windows, a lit cigar in hand. In many ways, he seemed the archetypical crime lord. He wore a similar suit to his crew, though his was a dark indigo and he wore an open violet shirt under his jacket. Instead of a tie, he had a gold chain around his neck, and his skin was a light-tan. He was also entirely bald, and had dark, dull eyes. ¡°Haaaaaahhh¡­¡± Smoke spilled from his mouth as he exhaled. ¡°Hello Miss Altamirano. Or would you prefer Miss Forty-Eight?¡± ¡°Forty-Eight¡¯s fine, Mister de Magalh?es,¡± she replied with a grin, ¡°Or would you prefer Forty-Seven?¡± He smirked. ¡°Cute. Vicente is fine.¡± And then he stood, pushing up from his desk. ¡°Let¡¯s not waste time on banter. You know who I am, girl.¡± ¡°Okay, went from ¡®Forty-Eight¡¯ to ¡®girl¡¯. Interesting. And yes, I do know about you. You¡¯re the Forty-Seven.¡± She grinned back. ¡°Does anything else matter?¡± ¡°Disrespect for disrespect then.¡± He scratched at his chin, still amused. ¡°Macedo, sword.¡± One of the goons went over to the wall of weapons and pulled a katana in a heavily decorated, red and gold sheathe from the wall. ¡°Huh. Y¡¯know, when I heard you were kickass assassin, I was picturing more double-pistols, syringes, and fancy gadgets. Maybe a garrotte? Not really a sword.¡± His smirk widened as Macedo handed the blade to him. ¡°Ha! So you have heard of me! Cheeky girl!¡± Vicente chuckled and looked over the sheathed sword in his hands, one hand already on its black hilt. ¡°I used whatever was available for a great many years. Syringes, garrottes, derringers. Then I fought a swordsman who would not die. Not until I split his head from his neck with this very blade.¡± And then he drew it. Despite the decorations on its sheath, the sword was simple. A katana, single-bladed, long, and sharp enough to cut straight through the shocked mook¡¯s neck, dyeing half its shimmering steel crimson in a second. ¡°Wh-BOSS! WHAT ARE-¡± The sheath was heavy enough to smash straight through a second man¡¯s skull though, tossed with a sharp, inhuman precision. ¡°Haaaaaaah¡­¡± Vicente sighed, smoke spilling from his mouth again as Macedo¡¯s head finally dropped, his body crumpled to the floor. ¡°It¡¯s been...far too long, Querida~. You still sing so sharply¡­¡± He smirked, tilting his head at Nimia¡¯s frown and raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, girl? You feel sorrow for the men I slay?¡± ¡°They weren¡¯t involved here.¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°Haaaaaah, silly, sentimental...I once butchered a villa full of partying fools to kill five targets.¡± He chuckled. The rest of his men were starting to inch away, desperately trying not to catch his attention as they tried to escape. ¡°I¡¯ve done similar. Many a time. My favorite manner is to do so so subtly, none notice the deaths until it is their turn. Though, often still, I have limited my hunt to only those assigned. It depends on my mood, girl.¡± He chuckled again, low and dark. ¡°You have killed many. Why do you flinch?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve killed everyone in my way. They weren¡¯t.¡± ¡°Ahhhhh, I see now. Men, kill Altamirano. Two million to the man that does it.¡± Nimia sighed as the goons all immediately paused. Then she smirked. ¡°Everyone that pulls a gun dies-¡± And immediately snapped her arm out and shot the first dumbass that pulled a gun, his head snapping back in a spray of blood. ¡°-like that.¡± Suffice to say, most of them weren¡¯t any smarter, and Vicente¡¯s laughter sounded out through his room as submachine gun and handgun fire echoed along with it. Nimia ducked down, both arms extended with her pistols out, and¨Cone, three, seven¨Cshot all eight of the men firing at her while the remaining two booked it straight out of the office. ¡°Ahhh, just goes to show, the craven live long and the bold die young.¡± Vicente chuckled as he swung his arm forward, pointing the katana straight at Nimia. ¡°So what will you do now, bold girl?¡± ¡°Kill you. Duh,¡± she replied as she stood back up, leveling both pistols at him. He barked a loud laugh, then snapped his leg up and suddenly his desk was flying towards her. She slid under it, already firing as Vicente jumped for her, stabbing down. They missed each other by a hair, his katana stabbing through the floor, and she whirled to shoot and caught his foot straight in her stomach, driving the wind from her lungs and sending her flying straight through the glass windows behind her. Confused shouts and shocked screams filled her ears as she flew, but she managed to raise her pistols and keep on firing, adding to the sudden terror enveloping the club. Then she was out of bullets. Well shit¨C ¡°Gkh!¡± And that was her back against the floor, breaking into the tiles below. Shit, alright, ammo was in her jacket- ¡°Haaaaaah...You lived through that? Good, good, you¡¯ll need that durability.¡± He cracked his neck, then abruptly tossed down another katana, this one in a simple black sheathe. It landed right on her chest, and she blinked. ¡°You know how to use that?¡± ¡°...Yeah. Had some training,¡± she replied, glancing up at his smirking face. ¡°Good, better than I had.¡± Then he jumped down, cracking the floor as panicked patrons scattered through the club. ¡°Haaaahh¡­¡± Smoke billowed from Vicente mouth as he stood, raising an eyebrow as she finished reloading one pistol, standing too. ¡°Really now? I¡¯m offering an honorable duel, and you¡¯re loading a gun?¡± ¡°You saying gunfights aren¡¯t honorable?¡± He snorted. ¡°Heh...Alright, cute, I can accept that. Draw then. Sword or gun.¡± She smirked. ¡°Funny. You¡¯re really discounting me using both?¡± ¡°...Heh. Careful now.¡± He cracked his neck, and settled in a stance, his blade held straight. ¡°The bold die young.¡± ¡°And the craven die old.¡± She slipped the gun in her jacket, and pulled the sheathe free, setting it on the counter. The music was still bumping when they charged each other. He had a blatant advantage of experience and definite skill, but damn if Nimia didn¡¯t hold her own. Still, he was pushing her back as she weaved and thrust and deflected until she ducked a hard cut that shattered an entire row of drinks and pulled a pistol from her jacket with her right hand when his foot caught her in the chin. She went back, raising the handgun, and his swing back cut the barrel straight off. She spun, using her hands to push herself onto the counter and he followed, swinging in a dance of singing steel, clashing in sharp rings. She backed and backed and kicked a bottle up towards him and he sliced through it in a spray of alcohol. She took the chance and stabbed forward but he moved and suddenly tossed more bottles, cutting through them all. A spray of alcohols filled the air and she stumbled back before just barely dodging the shot from the derringer in his sleeve. He laughed, loud and happy as she backed, slipped, fell and he immediately thrust right as she did the same, catching her in the right shoulder in a burst of sparks as she caught him deep in the gut in a burst of blood. ¡°GAKGH!¡± He coughed, then started coughing louder and longer, wracking hacks as she held the blade piercing his abs, smirking up at him. ¡°F-Fuuuuuck, that¡¯s a bad pain...Ha ha ha! Ahhh, cocky of me, very cocky, a damn stupid mistake¡­¡± ¡°Fortune favors, but life hates, Mister Bold,¡± she replied with a cheeky grin. ¡°HA! Ha, ah, what a good wisdom you have...Damn, a cyborg arm¡­¡± He chuckled. ¡°I didn¡¯t even manage to draw blood...what a waste of good booze¡­¡± He chuckled again, blood leaking from his mouth. ¡°Ah, and men, of course...well, whatever. I never really cared for people, you know?¡± ¡°I could tell.¡± ¡°Heh...I have killed many people in my long career...Miss Altamirano...four hundred and seventy-three...seventy-five, counting the men I¡¯ve slain today...Many were targets. Most were not. When I reached this point, you see, I lost that drive for wealth...What need did I have, when I was all but immortal? I did as I did...for the love of killing. And yet...I did not even reach half of the first¡­¡± He licked his lips. ¡°...And yet, there are those above me who have slain less...it...it works funny like that, Miss...you work, and work, but not all deaths are equal¡­¡± ¡°Yours was a good one.¡± ¡°Was it¡­? Kind of you...to say so...Never wanted to go slow though¡­¡± ¡°Good thing I¡¯ve got you then.¡± She smirked, and pulled her second pistol, the one she actually loaded. ¡°...Ha...Ha ha ha...Clever, while I was careless...T-Take¡­Take her...my blade...She still sings for blood...and will, until her own death...in battle¡­¡± Vicente Kanashiro de Magaelh?es laughed one more time, blood spilling from his mouth and down his chest, soaking the counter and his killer. ¡°Ahh...Querida, meu amor¡­¡± And then Nimia shot the 47th ranked straight through his head, blasting his brains out and sending him crumpling back onto the counter.
48 -> 47
She sat up as her new number burned on her neck and got off the bar, glancing over the loaned blade. ¡°Hm...thanks for your help, but I have a last request to fulfill. Let your own legend start with who takes you next.¡± And then she drove the loaner blade straight through the Vicente¡¯s chest and deep into the bar. She took the bartender¡¯s abandoned cleaning cloth, and wiped the blood from Querida, once the blade was freed from her sparking shoulder. Vicente¡¯s darling wasn¡¯t in a fancy sheathe when Nimia left the club, but, really, the black suited her far better. She needed time to mourn, after all. 46 - Sonya Lawton
Match 5 #47 Nimia Altamirano vs #46 Sonya ¡°Browbeat¡± Lawton
The upscale, high-rise apartment complex didn¡¯t have a name. Not every building in the world did. Some were just buildings, existing as they did with only an address to define them. For this particular one, it was 2471 Westvic Avenue. Was there a significance to that address? Perhaps. It¡¯s where the 46th lived, after all, but did the numbers and names mean a thing? Realistically, unrealistically, maybe, maybe not. In the end, a place was a place, no matter who died there. It was plenty fancy, of course, but the subdued type. Darker, more wintery colors instead of the bright, gaudy arrogance embodied by similar high-rises. It wasn¡¯t gothic, not nearly, but the blues and violets of the building¡¯s interior lent it a peaceful feeling, yet one still rooted in wealth greater than most would ever see in their entire lives. Nimia was certainly impressed as she rode the elevator all the way up to the penthouse at the top. It almost made her feel bad when she kicked the fancy door to said penthouse straight in. The mahogany door flew forward and smashed into some kind of wall in the middle of the room that seemed to be there just to hang paintings on. No, wait. When she walked around the wall, she actually saw it was intended to hold a huge TV. Multiple TVs, actually, just with a single huge one taking up a good chunk of the wall while the smaller ones fit around it. Plus a fireplace under it. Fun! ¡°Why did you kick my door in?¡± came the irritated voice of an older white woman reclining back on a couch, her bare feet resting on a footrest and one pale arm resting on the back of her blue couch. ¡°I thought it would be an easy way to get your attention,¡± Nimia replied, grinning as she looked over the 46th. Honestly, she was expecting someone a little more impressive. The lady looked more like an older runway model, lots of slender grace and beauty, than a pro killer. Her gray hair was done up in a loose bun, some strands already falling over her face, and she was wearing an elegant black dress with some hip-bearing slits up its sides. She was even holding a fancy champagne glass! She also had a good amount of weathered lines under her eyes and across her exposed skin, along with what could be a few scars...and some odd lines across her arms. They didn¡¯t seem robotic, but from the back of her wrists up to her shoulders, some black lines traced across her skin, ending in circles up on her shoulder. ¡°You have it. You would be the new climber then.¡± Lawton huffed, and set her glass down on a glass coffee table. ¡°You certainly have that arrogant air to you.¡± ¡°Eh. It¡¯s only arrogance if I lose.¡± ¡°When you lose.¡± Lawton stared up at Nimia. Her blue eyes looked almost dead already. She sighed irritably, propping an arm up on her knee as she glared at her. ¡°Let me give you some advice, kid. Give it up.¡± ¡°...Oh?¡± ¡°¡®Oh¡¯ she says. You heard me right, don¡¯t act like you didn¡¯t. I¡¯m telling you, here and now, give it up. You¡¯ll never reach the top. No one does.¡± ¡°And what makes you say that?¡± Lawton rolled her eyes and stood, then strolled over to the wide windows around her penthouse, the 46 visible in blue on her back, marked in a flowery cursive. Plenty of taller buildings stood in the distance, but Lawton¡¯s place still had a great view of the dark-blue skyline. The lights of the buildings were too far to give her any kind of illumination, so Lawton was left framed by an indigo void, the lights in the distance glimmering like the eyes of deep-sea predators, dominated by the biggest ones of all in the form of the twin moons overhead. ¡°Because no one makes it to the top,¡± she finally answered, ¡°No one has, and no one will.¡± ¡°And what makes you say that?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s a fact.¡± Idiot, her tone said, even if her voice didn¡¯t. ¡°The same number two has held that position for what has to be hundreds of years now. Maybe over a thousand. The same number three has certainly held theirs for a good few centuries. And right behind them are forty-two more murderers holding their own positions until you finally get to me. You understand that, Forty-Seven? Everyone wants to reach the top, and no one has. ¡°Wanting isn¡¯t enough. Skill isn¡¯t enough. Intelligence isn¡¯t enough, strength isn¡¯t enough, luck isn¡¯t enough. Nothing is enough. No one climbs the pyramid without bloody hands that slip the instant they near that top. Bloody and broken until they wind up falling all the way down, kicked in the teeth by someone standing above them.¡± ¡°Is that what happened to you?¡± Nimia had to ask. Lawton let out a harsh bark of laughter. ¡°Not at all. I climbed to my own height, and then realized...I wasn¡¯t even halfway there. I wasn¡¯t even halfway through the forties! What kind of dumbass was I that I thought I could go any farther? So no. I¡¯m content where I am, and you should be too.¡± She smirked back into Nimia¡¯s vicious glare. ¡°Enjoy the immortality as long as it lasts. You¡¯ve got gifts, kid, and you could build yourself something great. Look at me. Hired killer to biggest investor in one of the only decent cities in this undead wreck of world-¡± ¡°Cool.¡± Nimia kept up her glare, her fingers already twitching on her sword¡¯s hilt. ¡°Good you found your fucking place, ma¡¯am. I know what mine is. It¡¯s at that damn top. So I¡¯m going to be nice here, and make this quick.¡± ¡°...Fucking excuse you, bitch?!¡± And then she blinked, genuinely confused as Lawton glared at her, her blue eyes wide and alight with a burning rage. ¡°I give you some damn good advice out of the kindness of my heart and you act like I¡¯m a fucking coward!?¡± ¡°...Well yeah, with all that defeatist bull-¡± ¡°Defeatist?! I¡¯M A FUCKING REALIST, CUNT!¡± Lawton suddenly grabbed the front of her dress and¨CWoah woah, what. Nimia blinked as an armored fist grabbed her face and slammed her straight into the picture-covered wall behind her then¨Cow ow ow¨Cgrinded her against it before throwing her clear across the living room into another part of the really damn big penthouse. She hit some kind of display podium with a vase on top of it, which smashed right into the floor behind her. ¡°...Ow??¡± ¡°Oh stop bitching,¡± came the low, metallic tone of a fully armored Lawton, a metallic second skin covering her entire body, tight and built to fit her skinny body as she twisted a dial on the back of her hand¨CAaaaaaand shiiiiiiiiiiiit, those were huge muscles. Nimia wiped some blood from her nose while she stared at Lawton, who was easily a good foot taller and ludicrously built, her solid muscles blatantly defined by the glowing green lines tracing all over her fully armored body, like looking a flayed human with obsidian muscles. Her helmet though was a solid, blocky thing with three glowing horizontal slits for her eyes. ¡°...WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT COME FROM?!¡± Nimia seriously had to ask, because holy fucking shit, what??? ¡°Oh what, have standards really dropped this fucking far? You don¡¯t know how a fucking inventory works, brat?¡± She paused, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head at her. ¡°Are you from the wastes or something?¡± ¡°...I¡¯d rather not talk about it, but for all intents and purposes, sure, I have no idea what the hell just happened here and I¡¯m genuinely freaking out, partially because I just realized I lost my sword, where¡¯s my sword?¡± Lawton chuckled, inclining her head behind her, and Nimia caught a glimpse of her sword lying on the floor. Right where Lawton charged her...Were those her boots? Did Lawton knock her out of her fucking shoes???This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°...Well shit, Vicente¡¯s going to kill me in Hell.¡± She really needed to take better care of his darling. Though was it her darling now? Should she be calling her ¡°Darling¡±? Things to think about, really, but later though because shit shit, Lawton- Nimia narrowly rolled out of the way as Lawton punched straight through the stone podium and damn there were a lot of stone podiums around. Was this a display room? Did Lawton live in a museum?! ¡°IS THIS WHAT RICH PEOPLE DO WITH THEIR LIVING SPACE?!¡± ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯m liking this a whole lot better than that cocky bullshit you had going on earlier,¡± Lawton said as she straightened, audibly cracking her neck as she stalked forward. Luckily for Nimia, she still had her guns! Gun. Gun, because the old 47 cut her other gun up and she hadn¡¯t bothered to get a replacement¨CGood God, she was being really stupid lately. Still, she pulled her remaining gun out and ducked behind one of the podiums, actually using some cover as she lined up her shot and fired straight for Lawton¡¯s head! And then the bullet bounced right off Lawton¡¯s helmet. ¡°...Really?¡± Nimia muttered, frowning. She bought armor-piercers for a reason... ¡°Really, brat. I think I¡¯ll be nice now though. If you want a gunfight so bad-¡± Nimia stiffened at the sound of a gun hammer being cocked. ¡°-I¡¯ll play along.¡± She barely dove out of the way as a bullet blasted straight through the podium¨C¡±What in the holy fuck¡­¡± It dissolved. The podium was dissolving, sizzling as green liquid¨COh of fucking course Lawton had corrosive rounds, sure, she didn¡¯t get enough of that shit with 77¨CNimia rolled back and up to her feet, rapidly firing at Lawton, who walked impassively towards her, a huge, black magnum revolver held in one hand, the metal on it glowing with green circuitry. Judging by what little Nimia could see as she sprinted through the far too massive display room, it had eight chambers, so seven bullets before¨CShe jumped back, narrowly missing one that slammed straight into a taxidermied mire-bear and reduced the semi-aquatic mammal to melted flesh and fur in seconds¨Csix bullets before she had to reload. Great, awesome, loads of fun. Honestly though, Nimia was smiling way too wide as she ducked into one of the rooms¨C¡±IS THIS A FUCKING BATHROOM!?¡± Why was there a pool!? Was that her bathtub?! How the fuck was it so big?? Two more bullets blasted through the walls right near Nimia as she quickly scurried away and Lawton kicked her way through the weakened wood a second later, her gun raised towards the ceiling as she looked around. Her green visor glowed ominously while her eyes scanned the room, somehow not spotting the lower ranked woman. Sure, it was a big bathroom, and sure there were no enhancements to her helmet¡¯s sight beyond what was necessary to give her a clear, non-tinted nor obstructed view of her natural line of sight, but she still should¡¯ve seen the bitch. Back with the visor, part of it was practicality. Enhancements like that, without adding more cybernetics to compensate, could screw her eyes up badly in the wrong circumstances, and adding those cybernetics could easily ruin the careful balance of concoctions her body had adapted to. The other part of it was a simple, sadistic enjoyment of stalking her prey with the full knowledge that there was nothing they could do to her. That, of course, was incredibly stupid, as Lawton very quickly realized as Nimia jumped up from the large jacuzzi-thing Lawton called her bath and started firing. Not at her, but right at the revolver in her hand. Some shots missed badly and bounced neatly off the armored killer, but one landed perfect and blasted right into its chamber. The armor-piercing bullet mixed with the naturally unstable nature of corrosive rounds blew the gun apart and¨C¡±GYAAAH!¡±¨Csend a blast of caustic material out all over Lawton¡¯s right arm. The rest of her body didn¡¯t exactly escape damage either, but the armor around her right hand was almost completely dissolved as Lawton clutched her ruined hand to her chest, the artificial chemical system in her body going into overdrive to try to contain the damage and heal the ruined tissue even as it was eaten away. Suffice to say, it was a very good time for Nimia to try to run and formulate a strategy, which she immediately did, sprinting straight out of the bathroom and into...some kind of lounge. How did one person need all this space? Back with actually figuring out how to kill said person, she seriously needed some kind of plan. Bullets weren¡¯t working and she couldn¡¯t exactly hope Lawton would just bleed out from her hand wound. It was never as easy as just sending her opponent into shock. And sure enough, the Lawton kicked the door straight in a second later; completely snapped straight through it, actually, never mind its hinges coming off. Which they still did. So, yeah. The corrosive material had done some damage to her armor, but nothing too significant. Mostly just patches of gray in what was once pure black material, though Nimia didn¡¯t have much time to admire the investor¡¯s aesthetics or her¨Cadmittedly impressive¨Cphysique, considering she was currently charging right at her with her fist drawn back. Nimia barely jumped out of the way as Lawton¡¯s undamaged fist smashed straight through the wall and¨CShit she was dragging it right through the concrete!¨Cfired desperately at the gray patches across Lawton¡¯s chest in some attempt at actually wounding her worse. No luck, and the chase was back on as Nimia tried her damndest to find some way of killing the higher ranked bitch after her head. What she wouldn¡¯t give for a damn stockpile of weapons in this shitty place...why did one woman need multiple lounges, but no gun rooms?? She needed something to¨CRight, shit, her fucking sword! Why was she this fucking stupid?? Nimia dove straight through another door into a kitchen, which...honestly, she was a little surprised by, because every indication she had was that Lawton would be the type to have some professional cook for her or something¨CAnd then that door was kicked in too and Lawton was stalking in again, easily brushing the dust off her armor. Her right hand was still mangled, but that still left a whole of her body to do damage with. ¡°Hey, a sudden thought occurs to me!¡± Nimia abruptly shouted as she slid across the countertop in the middle of the room, firing as she went, ¡°You¡¯re destroying a shitload of your own stuff just to kill me!¡± ¡°I am. Why, are you worried?¡± Lawton chuckled even as she easily tore the countertop out of its foundations, rattling all the knives above it. ¡°Terrified, actually! But the question¡¯s because I don¡¯t get why you¡¯re wrecking your place!¡± Lawton shrugged, even as she threw the countertop at Nimia¨Cwho dove straight out of the way, again, because this apparently wasn¡¯t getting old by now¨Cwith enough force that it smashed straight through another wall, back-Back into the main living room. What the fuck was this place¡¯s layout even? ¡°Objects are objects. They¡¯re all replaceable, particularly for a woman like me.¡± She chuckled lowly, then suddenly charged again in one of those bursts of speed, and Nimia yelped as she felt a hand on her shirt¨C And then she was flying across the room and slamming hard into a bunch of windows. She collapsed to the floor, gasping as she tried to regain the air that was forced from her lungs, her right arm sparking badly. ¡°Vases, lights, doors, bathtubs, walls, reinforced windows, counters, and even old trophies...They¡¯re all nothing, really. Reminders. A fight though, that¡¯s unique. They exist in the present only, and once they¡¯re done, all that¡¯s left are the memories. That, and you¡¯ve pissed me off enough, brat, that I really want you dead,¡± Lawton kept up her explanation, her pace slowed again as she watched Nimia. There was a calm, measured, predatory set to her step, all built out of an arrogant surety in her own victory. For all her talk of wanting Nimia dead, it was obvious that Lawton wanted to draw things out. Nimia herself only spared Lawton a glance though before she started looking around to figure out, exactly, where she was in the living room. She¡¯d been tossed again, so¨CThere! Right on her right, her darling was lying on the floor, along with her shoes. Both good very, very good to see. ¡°...Hey Lawton.¡± Nimia stood up, grinning even as a bit of blood leaked from her lips. ¡°What¡¯s your favorite kind of fight?¡± ¡°Scuse you?¡± She shrugged, trying to resist the urge to check if her teeth were loose. ¡°There are plenty out there. Slugfests, puzzles, honorable duels, and down ¡®n dirty brawls¡­¡± Lawton actually paused, staring at her. Perfect. ¡°Personally...I¡¯ve always had a preference for quickdraws.¡± Lawton stayed silent, steady, immovable and-There. The instant Lawton twitched in realization, Nimia was moving, shouting- ¡°DRAW!¡± Both women had moved at the same instant, one with a ridiculous, inhuman speed, and the other with a desperation built from knowing this opportunity could easily be her last. And an instant later, it was over. In the end, one stood, and the other fell to the floor, breathing heavily, desperately, as she stared at Lawton¡¯s headless corpse, its left arm sticking straight through the floor right next to her.
47 -> 46
¡°...F-Fuck...f-fuck me¡­¡± Nimia gasped out as blood leaked down her face, then glanced at the sword in her left hand, its blade gleaming with blood. ¡°...D-Definitely calling you Darling now. Heh...just stole my heart...¡± She chuckled again, then gingerly extricated herself from the corpse standing over her. She was having some bad luck with that...people standing over her and all. Or maybe good luck? They all seemed to die when they did that, so... Lawton looked...intense, even without her head. She¡¯d lunged for Nimia, tried to smash her fist into her skull...She would¡¯ve, if Nimia hadn¡¯t been quicker on the draw. It was just that one cut, straight through Lawton¡¯s neck, that had sent the 46 off enough that her punch missed instead of absolutely destroying Nimia¡¯s skull. As it was, Nimia was absolutely soaked with a mix of Lawton¡¯s blood and whatever else the woman had going on in her bloodstream. Some kind of...green stuff. Weird. She glanced at Lawton¡¯s severed head, lying nearby, leaking blood into the carpet. That was probably never coming out. For a second, Nimitz almost expected the still-helmeted head to speak to her, but...nope. It just laid there, three green lines staring right back at her. Eerie. ...shit, she should¡¯ve got Lawton to explain that "inventory" thing to her...Well fuck it. That wasn¡¯t happening now. What was happening now, however, was that Nimia, the new 46th, now had an entire penthouse to herself. And she was definitely using that fucking bath. 45 - Cleon Jourmari
Match 6 #46 Nimia Altamirano vs #45 Cleon ¡°The Red Lion¡± Joumari
Current Inventory: 1 Katana - "Darling" 1 .44 Semi-Automatic Magnum 1 9mm Semi-Automatic Pistol 47.6 million dollars; Note: "Donated by Lawton"
The Rolling Storm Raceway, or whatever that would translate to in Darija based on the subtitle under the signs, was ludicrously huge. Most racetracks, for cars and the like, tended to go around a mile to two miles, or 1.6 to 3.2 kilometers, if you were a heretic. Longer ones would be over two miles, in the 2.6 mile ballpark kinda way. The Rolling Storm, however, went about twenty times that. And was probably squared, because distance is weird. It wasn¡¯t exactly an even track either, more so a massive course stretching in twists and turns that weaved around obstacles both natural and artificial, ranging from sandpits and oil traps to full on spinning blades, acid pits, and massive flamethrowers, all set around, over, and through a city pretty much outfitted for racing and spectating. And why exactly was the huge track so outfitted? Well, that was for a very simple reason: The Rolling Storm Raceway was the frequent host to the high-speed bloodsport known simply as ¡°Death Race¡±. Which was actually kind of a misnomer, weirdly enough. Sure, people definitely died during the races, but it wasn¡¯t the outright assumed result of any race. It was hard to have racers fans loved to root for if nobody lived long enough to get fans. Same went for sponsors and all that. So, really, the ¡°death¡± part of Death Races came from they decent chance that someone could die if they were unprepared or just had really shit luck. Oh, and there was also the fact that destroying an opponent¡¯s car was completely legal for the races. Hell, a valid way of winning was just by destroying every other car on the track before they could finish the last lap, which was why a whole lot of racers modified their vehicles with weapons or just outright carried guns in their cars. There were even tracks out there that had artificial biomes specifically for mixing things up. Point was, it would probably be a sport Nimia would be into if she wasn¡¯t currently trying to be the best damn killer in the entire world. Luckily for the 46th ranked, the current 45 had no such compunctions about staying out of other bloodsports, so she was actually getting a little time to just enjoy the crazy sights while she figured out what was up with one Cleon Jourmari, the 45th ranked and the ¡®Red Lion of the Rolling Storm¡¯. The 46th herself was currently relaxing in a nice little penthouse she just so happened to be able to buy now that she ¡°repossessed¡± a whole hell of a lot of wealth from Lawton. ¡°You kill the owner, you get their stuff¡± wasn¡¯t exactly anywhere in the rules of the rankings, but hey, she¡¯d had that other penthouse back in Albadan to herself for a full week before she decided to continue on her way and that gave her plenty of time to access at least a couple bank accounts the old lady owned. Somebody would probably wind up getting pissed about that, but what the hell were they gonna do? Anyway, that led to her current situation, which was lounging on a couch and eating chips as she watched the current race on a big plasma screen. There was some commentary, but she was mostly tuning it out in favor of just watching the racers go. People from all over the world, most so full of cybernetics or outright robotic just to survive, going up against each other huge, loud, deathtraps, screaming their rage out for the joy of all onlookers¡­ Heh. She really needed to get out more. That almost sounded philosophical¨CWait, what was happening on screen? That was her penthouse. ¡°-that¡¯s right, it¡¯s a fantastic showin¡¯ here, everyone and everythin¡¯ here to watch the steel carnage of a good race!¡± And that was a very familiar voice. ¡°And it¡¯s gonna get bloodier and nastier in just a few seconds, so hold onto those umbrellas and put up those shields if you¡¯re in the splash zone! Ah, but not you Nimmy!¡± And the grinning, shadowed face of Nero suddenly formed up on her screen. ¡°You¡¯re playing today, baby, and the price is righter than right for your fucked up head! That¡¯s right that¡¯s right that¡¯s right, we have, here and today, not only an automatic victory against the goddamn champ to anyone who kills the Forty-Six here today¨Cthanks again to our sponsors at Koroshi Entertainment and Giochi Sanguinosi¨Cbut all the fun stuff of getting to enter the rankings! Namely, immortality, and an even BETTER chance at killing that smug prick Jourmari! Yeah we see you down there! You and that hotrod of¨CAwww, nice¡¯a you to wave, you know we love ya!¡± ...Well shit, that probably wasn¡¯t good. And Nimia¡¯s concerns were immediately founded when a car smashed straight into her penthouse. The dark blue and heavily armored race car lit the room up with machine gun fire, the guns right under its headlights, as Nimia leapt straight on top of it. Her new boots crunched into the glass¨C and spikes formed from their outsoles for a better grip¨Cas she easily formed her new magnum¨Ca pitch-black semi-automatic¨Cout of the digital cloud the ¡®inventory¡¯ turned out to be. It wasn¡¯t a physical thing, just all digitized whatevers doing the thingamabobs to store things in ways that should¡¯ve been impossible, but hey, it kept her gear safe, and as she pressed the tip against the glass, she couldn¡¯t keep herself from grinning. Though then the prick smashed out of the penthouse and back onto the track and she had to quickly reevaluate some shit as they landed back on the track. Damn, there were a lot of cars out and about, and Blue Boy landed them straight back into the fucking fray of it. Hm. And now the prick was deliberately swerving to try to shake her off. Sucked for him that nobody in the association really accounted for people being reckless enough to jump from their cars. At least in this circuit, where that kind of shit was suicidal at best. Well, fuck it, if he was going to be a prick, she¡¯d find a better ride. And it was with that thought she casually shot straight through the glass and into Blue Boy¡¯s skull, his head slamming back in a spray of blue blood. They were going down a straight, sloped path at that moment, one lined with buzzsaws spinning from the road and the slightly higher walls, so she focused on spotting a good route among all the other cars. Hm. Teal one would work.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. She waited until the Blue Boy hit a decently-sized saw, sending it crashing and used the momentum to launch her up and onto the car in question. This time, she kept out of the view of the windshield, so hopefully the racer inside would¨C The first shot was her only warning as she darted to the side, narrowly missing submachine gun fire from inside the car, and she took that warning to grip the side, kick straight through the window, and slam her feet into the side of the driver¡¯s helmeted head, sending them crashing straight through that door and onto the track for about three seconds before a saw split them in half. So yep, now she was in a car without a driver and fuck she really should¡¯ve thought this through more. Could¡¯ve brought a rifle up to the penthouse, took some shots, but nope, now she was driving a car she had no idea how to drive amongst a bunch of racers who knew exactly what they were doing and she¨CWaaaaaait. Races had laps. Nimia slammed straight on the breaks and did her damndest to get the car to stop¨C A few seconds later, she climbed out of the only slightly mangled car and frowned at the pole its front was now wrapped around in the middle of a rather wide stretch of the track. ¡°...You served me well in our short time together,¡± she said, and then saluted her fallen carmrade. ...God, that was bad. Puns aside, she turned and looked towards the rest of the track, which traced up and around the buildings everywhere. Seemed she picked somewhere in the middle of the road, elevation-wise, to set herself up in. Decent ground that was both free of traps and at the end of the buzzsaw slope, so it was totally flat. The road was a little wide though, so there was a decent chance Jourmari could just swerve around her¡­ Speaking of, her current location also provided her with a decent view of the racers up on the massive screens set around the race track. She almost wanted to sit back to watch, but standing was smarter. Still, it was cool to see Jourmari at work. His red and gold car stood out amid the crowd, and not just because it had some really cool golden lion decals emblazoned across its sides, with a roaring face taking up its hood. No, it mostly stood out because Jourmari was a damn scary racer. He didn¡¯t have any fancy crap like the purple fucker with a full on scorpion tail extending from his car or the orange bitch with the flamethrowers. No, he was just fast and efficient, weaving around obstacle after obstacle even as every single racer tried their damndest to kill the bastard at the head of their pack. For a brief moment, Nimia wondered if he even had any weapons in there with him. And then she immediately got an answer as the cocky fuck actually took the time to roll down his window before leaning out and pointing a red-and-gold magnum out at the strack. Though, he was pointing straight ahead of himself for some reason¨C Jourmari¡¯s car did a suddenly full turn, twisting around on the track without even drifting, before he fired one shot straight into the front right tire of the yellow car right behind him on the track. In seconds, the racer right behind him went flying, twisting, and crashing hard, smashing and rolling and absolutely shattering into pieces as it flew apart from the ruined momentum alone. And every single one of those pieces flew with astounding speed and impressive brutality into the other cars right behind the second place. Nimia watched in outright awe at the devastation on-screen. Somehow, nearly every piece of the Yellow 2nd had smashed into its competition behind it. Tires crashed through windows, chunks of metal impaled engines, and even shards of glass pierced into those who¡¯d been dumb enough to be leaning out to try to score an easy shot on Jourmari. She even briefly saw a broken body crash straight into the orange pyro in 4th, right before that one went up in a ball of flames and smashed the purple scorpion in 5th, sending its tail flying forward and impaling the poor unfortunate green bastard who¡¯d tried to take the moment to slip into 3rd. It was easily the most destructive chain reaction she¡¯d ever seen, and then there was Jourmari, still driving backwards the entire time. ¡°...Heh. Well alright then, I can dig it.¡± A giggle bubbled up in her as let both her katana and her own magnum slip into her hands. Sword in the left, gun in the right. Cybernetics held the gun steadier, while her left just felt more natural for the blade. ¡°C¡¯mon then, Red Lion. I wanna see you roar.¡± And, to her immense joy, he didn¡¯t take long at all to show up. In fact, he only stopped driving backwards once he made it to the end of the slope, a ways away from where she stood. Directly facing Nimia, Jourmari suddenly put on his breaks and leaned out again, staring at her through his crimson helmet, which had gold spikes on it tracing back to give him his ¡°mane¡±. Funny thing was, from the pictures she¡¯d seen of the admittedly handsome dark-skinned man, he kept both his head and face completely shaved. ¡°I was almost disappointed when I saw you leave your new-claimed car.¡± He had a good voice. Strong and rich with an obvious accent that lent a nice flair to his words. ¡°I thought you try your best to match me in my own arena. But we both have different talents, don¡¯t we?¡± ¡°That we do! Sorry to disappoint though!¡± she replied, honestly grinning, ¡°It¡¯s just that I realized I don¡¯t know shit about driving cars! I¡¯m more a motorcycle girl!¡± ¡°Ahh. So, you want to try the motorcycle then?¡± ¡°Hm...no, sorry, didn¡¯t think of putting in my inventory so it¡¯s still parked.¡± ¡°Eh. It is no trouble. Really, I like this better. We hold an even field by playing to our talents, and I have always liked a challenge.¡± Jourmari moved back into his seat, and revved his engine. ¡°Now, it is only a matter of whose strength overwhelms.¡± Nimia nodded with an eager grin, her eyes alight with the drive for battle. ¡°Exactly.¡± And then he drove. The space was too small, honestly. That¡¯s why she didn¡¯t mind when he drove straight past her. After all, races had laps. It was a patience game. One of focus and reaction time. Jourmari knew where she was. Nimia knew where he was coming from. Her fingers itched. There was an eagerness in her, a need to have it end. Jourmari had to know that. It¡¯s why he had this build-up, this anticipation, this rising action. He knew, with no one left to interfere, with the board intentionally cleared, it was only a matter of who flinched first. The rest of the track meant nothing. The jumps and traps were easily cleared. The debris was no obstacle. She was the Lion¡¯s last obstacle. The living wall in front of his victory. The last hurdle to his happy ending. And he would not be deterred. She raised her gun as the roar of his engine approached. The slope of saws was nothing to him, and it was a true delight to see him dance and weave around every blade. It was artistry in motion, and in that moment, Nimia knew who her favorite racer would always be. There was no turning for him. There was no moving for her. To do either would be to disgrace their duel, and God damn them if they did. A simple squeeze of the trigger fired the first of eight bullets, shot in rapid succession, her aim adjusting as he sped straight for her. The question was, would he reach her before the bullets reached him? One shattered his windshield. Two clipped his helmet. Three crashed out the back and four slammed home in his chest. Blood burst from his mouth as the fifth joined, and the sixth shattered his shoulder. The seventh landed hard as well, but by that point, it was decided, and Nimia smiled kindly at her worthy adversary as his car sailed past her by inches, a last twist of the wheel conceding his defeat and sparing her of empty vengeance. Though, she did admittedly feel some satisfaction when the eighth perfectly pierced the center of his visor right as the car flipped, her neck burning as the 46¨C
46 -> 45
¨Cchanged to 45. ¡°AND WE HAVE A WINNER!¡± Nero¡¯s voice suddenly boomed out over the area and confetti rained down over the track. Up on screen, he was visibly standing behind his desk, his arms spread wide as he beamed, his teeth bright and white ¡°CONGRATULATIONS NIMIA ALTAMIRANO! YOU ARE NOW RANKED 45TH! KEEP IT UP!¡± He wide smile dropped into a small smirk as his red eyes stared straight out of the screens, staring down at her from a dozen angles. ¡°We¡¯re really lookin¡¯ forward to seein¡¯ how far you get.¡± ¡°Thanks for the encouragement!¡± she shouted in reply, grinning up at the nearest screen as she walked over to the wrecked lion. To her immediate satisfaction, the gold magnum, engraved with gorgeous markings and set with a red leather handle, matched her black one. So now she could do the two guns thing again. And that was clearly the most important thing here. 44 43 42 - Theka-G3, Bente-B2, Ena-A1
Match 7: #45 Nimia Altamirano vs #44 Theka-G3 #43 Bente-B2 and #42 Ena-A1
Inventory: 1 Katana - "Darling" 2 .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums - "Sonya and Cleon" 1 9mm Semi-Automatic Pistol 67.6 million dollars; Note: "Got some prize money"
There were plenty of abandoned places in the world. Some were just more abandoned than others, and this particular district in the urban ruins of Ukria was really damn abandoned. Not radioactive, thankfully, but pretty abandoned. Cold as nine though. Seriously, Nimia felt like her fucking tits were icicles and had been since she got off her bike. The heavy, fluffy snow-camo jacket she got helped a little, but still. Probably should¡¯ve sprung for the self-heating fibers, but hindsight was a bitch and foresight was blind. Granted, she¡¯d wanted something flexible that she could actually move in, and if that type jacket got shot, she¡¯d be on fire. So pros and cons and half-blind foresight.. Keeping her hood up was sorta helping, and the thick scarf and gloves she had on were handy too. She¡¯d even got heavier jeans and thicker boots for the cold, though she¡¯d honestly expected it to be snowier when she got to the ruined North-Eastern city. Instead, the sky was completely clear. Sunny, even. There was just a bad wind blowing, the kind that cut straight through layers of clothes and could freeze bare skin in seconds, especially if said skin was connected to metal cybernetic prosthetics. It wasn¡¯t even a strong wind, just a cold one. Still, complaining didn¡¯t help for shit. Made her feel better though. So onwards she walked, looking around the abandoned warehouses lining the main road when a noise caught her attention; the low thumps and clangs of metallic footsteps against the asphalt. She paused, then stopped, standing straight in the center of the road. Three sets of steps sounded out from ahead of her, and dimly, she heard the roar of engines coming from somewhere in the town, at past the storefront on her right side. Some old place that was so cleared out, she couldn¡¯t tell what it used to sell. Even the windows and front doors were gone. An empty warehouse paralleled it on her left side, and that was where the footsteps were coming from. The first one around the corner was a bright crimson, almost immediately reminding her of Jourmari, though where the racer had matched gold with his red, the clearly cybernetic humanoid was highlighted with white. White lines tracing up a mostly red body, though their rounded head was mostly white instead, lending a look to the mechanoid like they were a bald, muscular man in a red bodysuit. That impression was pretty quickly ruined though by the largely featureless face they had; no nose, three red dots in a line for the mouth, and two round, entirely green eyes. They also noticeably lacked definition; whatever muscles they had looked too smooth, too constructed. They were more like a slender bodybuilder than a buff warrior, and even then, they lacked any creases or veins that a ¡°natural¡± human would. There was also the fact that the mechanoid had crab-like claws at the ends of their arms instead of hands. That was definitely an attention grabber. Said claws weren¡¯t chitinous though; they were definitely mechanical, just made out of a smooth, red metal to match whatever style this bot had going on. A style that their siblings seemed to match. The one right behind them looked identical, but was an emerald green in every place Reddy was red and the one behind them was pitch-black instead. Other than that, they both looked the same, color-wise, though Greeny had red eyes. Hm. They also had different hands going on. They both had normal, human-ish hands, though the green one¡¯s were black, like they were wearing gloves, and the black one¡¯s white hands seemed clawed. ¡°Good morning, Nimia Altamirano, Rank Forty-Five of The Immortal Ranks, Age: Unknown, Nationality: Unknown, presumed of Latino descent, Blood type: AB+, Gender: Female,¡± Greenie said in a high, electronic voice as the trio stood in the center of the road, opposite Nimia, with Greenie taking the lead and their siblings flanking them. ¡°Huh. You did your research. Kinda ruins my intro though,¡± she replied, shrugging in her fluffy jacket. ¡°Apologies. Did you have something particular in mind.¡± ¡°Nope! Mostly was just gonna walk around until I ran into you guys. Gals? People.¡± ¡°All could be applicable.¡± Greenie copied her shrug, holding their hands behind their back. Their siblings were holding totally still though. It was always interesting seeing what a synthetic did ¡®at rest¡¯, and the ones that just kinda froze were honestly pretty cool in Nimia¡¯s pro opinion. The lack of tics and tells made things fun. ¡°I hope you will allow my own introduction then.¡± ¡°Heh. You don¡¯t need my permission, Greenie.¡± They just nodded, not commenting on the ¡°Greenie¡± nickname. ¡°I am Ena Ay-One, Rank Forty-Two of the Immortal Ranks, Gender: Female, Blood Type: C+.¡± ¡°Nothing for nationality and age?¡± ¡°That information is classified.¡± Nimia snorted. ¡°You could just say you don¡¯t want to say. Or something like ¡®you shouldn¡¯t ask a lady her age¡¯.¡± ¡°Noted.¡± ¡°I am Bente Bee-Two,¡± Ena¡¯s black and white sibling spoke up next in a noticeably deeper tone, tilting their head slightly in what might¡¯ve been amusement, ¡°I am the Forty-Third ranked, my gender is male and my blood type is C positive as well. I look forward to killing you.¡± ¡°Likewise! And Reddy over there is¡­?¡± ¡°Theka Gee-Three,¡± Reddy answered, their tone more even and almost monotone, ¡°Forty-Four. Non-binary. C negative.¡± ¡°Oh hey, a difference!¡± Nimia grinned. ¡°So that¡¯s all three of you then. Kinda disappointed you all didn¡¯t shoot for one higher. You could¡¯ve had your numbers match.¡± ¡°Entering Rankings: Error.¡± ¡°Come again?¡± ¡°My sibling refers to my entrance,¡± Ena explained, ¡°I chose to fight and kill an opponent they feel I should not have. Despite that, both they and Bente have entered alongside me with the intent to act as my ¡®guards¡¯.¡± Nimia blinked. ¡°Oh. Huh. That¡¯s...weirdly noble.¡± ¡°No it¡¯s not,¡± Bente contradicted with obvious amusement, ¡°We consider it only right that our eldest sibling hold the position of First, and our intent is to secure the Third and Second positions as well. We are meant to fight and kill. We were built for that purpose. Becoming the greatest killers in the world is only logical.¡± ¡°Now see, that¡¯s more what I was expecting. Thank you, Benny, for your helpful insight.¡± He emitted a harsh crackle of what might¡¯ve been laughter as Ena stepped forward again. ¡°Regardless of intention, that is the situation here. My siblings hold titles below mine. You will have to kill them to reach me.¡± Her eyes didn¡¯t narrow, but they did start to glow. ¡°I intend to protect my siblings. I will kill you if you attempt to harm them.¡± ¡°Okay, wow, actually feeling a little bad here. This is the first time I¡¯ve had to kill a whole family.¡± She paused, then shrugged. ¡°Oh well. First time for everything.¡± Benny crackled again, actually leaning his head back as he laughed. ¡°Wrong again.¡± Eh?¨CWait, there was that truck again. Was it getting louder¨C? Nimia glanced behind her as a huge black semi pulled up in the gaps between the buildings, blocking off the street. And huh. There was another mechanoid¨Cwhite and blue this time¨Cup on top of the trailer. Their arms were slightly bulkier; in particular, their shoulders and forearms seemed more armored¨Cmore like thick, blocky plates than the humanoid arms the others had¨Cprobably to support the buzzsaws they had in place of hands. Which matched up with the orange one climbing out of the front of the truck and dropping to the ground, though their hands were drills instead of saws...Wait, how were they driving¨C ¡°Ekadon Dee-Four,¡± introduced Blue, who then gestured to Orange, who raised a drill in greeting, ¡°Chilio Ee-Five.¡± ¡°Huh. Your younger siblings?¡± Nimia asked, glancing back at Ena. ¡°Correct. They are unranked. However, they will be fighting alongside myself and my ranked siblings.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°You stated you do not mind ¡®killing a whole family¡¯, correct.¡± ¡°Correct,¡± Nimia copied, smirking as she acted on a little hunch, ¡°And the two on the roofs?¡± Ah, there was a flicker of what had to be surprise in Ena¡¯s eyes. And sure enough, two more mechanoids quickly made themselves known. The one on the warehouse roof was white and purple¨Ckind of a deep, violet shade¨Cwhile the one on the abandoned store was white and yellow¨Ckinda reminded her of daisies, actually. And both were ridiculously heavily armed. Both of the rooftop robots noticeably had one altered eye each¨Cboth their right eyes, specifically¨Cwith an odd white lens over them. Some type of scope, probably, which would fit considering Violet had miniguns for forearms while Daisy seemed to be equipped with some type of chemical thrower, based on the tubes extending down from their shoulders to the pointed nozzles in place of their hands. ¡°...They are Myrio Zee-Six and Koppa Eitch-Seven.¡± So A1, B2, G3, D4, E5, Z6, and H7. Interesting numbering conventions... ¡°So seven on one...those are some pretty extreme odds.¡± Nimia smirked, taking the time to glance over every last one of the mechanoids she was about to fight. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll live up to the hype.¡± And she paused on Myrio, grinning at the violet bot, before snapping her arm out behind her and forming her new gold magnum¨Cnicknamed Cleon in his honor¨Cin her hand. The shot went wide though as Koppa jerked out of the way and then both ranged bots opened fire. Literally for Koppa; turned out the things on their arms were flamethrowers, specifically. Nimia was already moving, deciding in a second to dive straight through one of the empty warehouse windows¨Cmore space meant more maneuverability, there could be things she could use inside, and jumping into the place with the pyro on top sounded like a shit idea¨Cjust in time to avoid a rain of bullets and fire. She rolled to her feet and turned, glancing around the large shelves around her¨Cthe spaced kind where they were mostly metal rods with flat pallets of plastic or wood, all still up for some reason¨Cthen jumped back again as Chilio smashed straight through the wall in a whirr of spinning drills. They immediately rushed at her, not pausing in the slightest once they saw her. Fun bit of being a robot, Nimia guessed, before twisting around the thrusted drill and aiming straight¨CAnd then she had to roll back as Benny nearly clawed her face off. A quick flick of her wrist brought her second magnum¨Cwhich she decided to call Sonya to keep to a theme¨Cto her free hand, but both bots were already moving before she even fired, ducking down and darting past each other as they ran to opposite ends of the warehouse. Hm. The shelves created cover. Enough that they could actually disappear into them and she couldn¡¯t even see them...The whir of drills was still audible though, so if she was smart about it...no, everything she¡¯d seen so far painted the picture that these guys could dodge bullets, and giving away her means of positioning one this early on wasn¡¯t smart¡­ Her eyes flicked around the shelves, listening for the noise¨CAh, shit. The drills actually covered whatever noise Benny was making. She¡¯d need to focus more to drown it out, and that was just dealing with two of them...Well, most of them were short range anyway, so¡­ Nimia flicked her hands out, dismissing both guns, then swung her left arm out and formed her katana in her hand, using the momentum to cleave straight through one shelf¡¯s post. After a second, it split and collapsed by her side. Good to confirm that her darling could cut through iron. Vicente didn¡¯t cheap out on the metal, nor on the enhancements whirring inside its hilt and steel. So with that tested, she switch to two hands on the hilt and waited, closing her eyes and focusing on the sounds around her. The sound of drills was easy, but the noise of metal footfalls were far harder to pinpoint. Still there though, darting around the room, around the shelves...why the hell were they just m¨CRoyal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. It was a split-second instinct, but Nimia dove straight out of the way right before a torrent of bullets rained straight through the ceiling and at the point she¡¯d been only a second ago and before she even rolled to her feet the whir of buzzsaws suddenly entered the fray and she was leaping back and back, each swing coming closer and closer to carving open her face or chest¨C She barely ducked the drill, turning the motion into another roll to barely move from the next swipe. Whirs and squeals of machinery echoed as the orange and blue blurs pursued her through the wide space, nearly nicking her way more times than she was comfortable with and getting closer by the second until she could hear the thin *SHRIP* of fabric echoing out as they caught on her jacket and suddenly she was very glad she had short hair because if that shit caught in a drill she was fucked. As it was though, she was doing a shitload of dodging and not a lot of attacking and it just suddenly clicked that they were probably driving her into position again because their older brother was still around and she¡¯d be fucked if he suddenly attacked her from the back so against all fucking conventional wisdom in the world, she suddenly swung her sword right for a moving saw blade as it tried to carve down through her chest. And the saw blade lost. It was almost comical how her eyes widened at the same time both of theirs went brighter, all of their surprise obvious the instant they saw the buzzsaw split and shattered, but hesitation meant death, so Nimia immediately twisted around the unhesitating thrust of a whirring drill and cut Chilio¡¯s head clean off. There was a spray of black blood and a harsh, electronic scream before Nimia suddenly felt a fist slam into her face and welp, there she went flying again. She was better at landing this time though and rolled to her feet right as Ena went surging right for her, the gynoid¡¯s fist raised and cocked and crackling with electricity. But Nimia wasn¡¯t going on the defensive again and she immediately swung for the green gynoid, forcing her to reverse course and jump back while Ekadon wrapped a busted arm around their sibling¡¯s head and ran for it¨CAnd that¡¯s when Myrio burst straight though the roof, firing at her as they fell. Well, fuck it, time to see if she could cut through bullets. Turns out she could, but split bullets were still pretty dangerous so running straight for Myrio wasn¡¯t in the cards just yet. So more dodging and running while bullets flew through the air, trying to figure out how the¨CAnd in came Bente, claws extending from between his fingers as he lunged right for her. She twisted just right so he went between her and Myrio, keeping the violet bot from firing before Benny swung a clawed fist for her head. She had to lean a lot and swing to deflect as he went wild, trying to claw her to pieces and of fucking course his claws just so happened to be solid enough that she couldn¡¯t cut them apart. Still, keeping him there meant Myr¨COnly the briefest noise caught her attention and she managed to duck right as a heavy claw nearly smashed right into the back of her head. She kicked up, slamming into Benny¡¯s chin and snapping his head back as she pushed herself up on her hands, getting a glimpse of a red body right before she abruptly had to drop again and roll as a crabby claw nearly snapped her shin in half. She got to her feet right as the siblings whirled on her, both of them suddenly lurching forward in a rush of coordinated motion just like their younger siblings but far quicker and far more vicious than Eka and Chilly had been. And of course their claws¨Cboth the crabby type and the stabby type¨Cweren¡¯t sliceable. But they couldn¡¯t break her sword either so she was either blocking or dodging every single strike even as they got way too fucking close for her own comfort. Duck, dodge, block, swing, it was a rhythm by that point and she didn¡¯t need a psychic to know the bots were all reading from the same playbook, so she kept her ears open and managed to hear the whir of spinning barrels right before gunfire lit up the space she¡¯d just been in. Benny and Theka had already jumped out of the line of fire, but Nimia wasn¡¯t interested in dodging. No, that time she went straight for Myrio, catching the surprised brightening of their eyes as she ducked and dove under machine gun fire faster than the android could react. It helped that Myrio¡¯s siblings had been forcing her in their direction the whole time; hell, their plan had a decent enough chance of working if they¡¯d actually used one of their short-range fighters instead. Instead, she split the violet bot straight in half at the waist, their guns still firing as their upper half flipped up into the air. At least until a second swing split the arms from their body entirely¨C And then she jumped up and kicked off the torso, sending it crashing into Benny¡¯s head as she flipped over a plume of flame that rushed right where she¡¯d been. Now that would be a whole lot trickier to dodge, so off she went again as the flames swung out after her, trying their damndest to roast her alive. She¡¯d gotten plenty good at running though, so avoiding the flames wasn¡¯t too tricky. On the other hand, fire spread, and the cool warehouse was rapidly getting hotter. And it didn¡¯t help that Koppa had two hands. When the second wall of flames abruptly sprung up in front of her, Nimia considered that she might actually have a problem on her hands. But hey, there were still plenty of shelves standing, so up she went. Kind of a shit idea in normal circumstances, considering that was where the smoke would be going, but hey, it was that or get burnt directly. So up it was, as she tried to run across the shelves and get out of the damn furnace the warehouse was becoming. The heavy jacket really seemed like a shit idea in the current situation, but fuck it¨CAnd back to dodging she was because that lobster fuck just jumped straight out of the flames like a devil outta Jersey. And narrow shelves, already starting to warp from the heat, were a shit place to fight on top of. ¡°Persistent fucker, huh?¡± ¡°Correction: You pursued us. You harmed us.¡± Their claws snapped menacingly. She had to bite back a laugh. ¡°You will die.¡± And that laughter immediately vanished as Theka lunged for her, using their claws as bludgeons as they tried to smack her off the shelves. This time though, she swung right back, aiming to split the lobster bot in half before getting out. ¡°You sound crabby! A little sour that I split your pals apart?¡± ¡°Very. Die now,¡± they replied as both of them exchanged blows, sharp steel clashing against probably also steel but more blunt. ¡°Nah, sorry, can¡¯t. I¡¯m aiming to reach the top, and that means I can¡¯t die before then.¡± She smirked, joking, ¡°You lose your rank if you die, and I¡¯m not interested in working my way back up.¡± ¡°Arrogant. Downfall imminent.¡± Nimia blinked at the sudden roar of flames, saw Koppa using their own flamethrowers to propel them up onto the shelves and land with¨CAnd then Theka abruptly changed tactics, charging again but with his arms spread wide, his guard right open and she instinctively stabbed forward, but that was a damn mistake. Her blade pierced straight through their chest, sure, but Theka¡¯s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close and pinning her left arm to her side. It clicked the instant she saw Koppa raising their flamethrowers towards her and their fireproof sibling, but Theka hadn¡¯t trapped both her arms. In an instant, a magnum materialized in her free right hand and she fired twice in rapid succession, the first bullet smashing through Koppa¡¯s left eye while the second caught them close to the forehead as they stumbled back. For a brief moment, their remaining eye flickered, before their arms dropped to their sides and they sank to their knees, their body rapidly diverting everything they had in an attempt to preserve the primary systems and shutting down every non-essential function. Nimia didn¡¯t have time to deal with that though, since the enraged Theka¨Cwith a harsh, electronic growl sounding out from their ¡°mouth¡±¨Cwas trying to outright crush her spine right before her metal palm smashed into the side of their equally metal head, her fingers clutching tight as she twisted the blade piercing their sternum and swung it out. The growl that time sounded more like a gasp, but there was still more rage than anything else in it as Nimia severed their collarbone. One arm dropped and that was all she needed to push back and swing again and again and again, splitting through metal ¡°flesh¡± and metal ¡°bone¡± before she lifted her blade high and swung straight down, cutting right down the middle of the 44th ranked. Nimia couldn¡¯t admire how they finally crumpled into chunks though, their green eyes flickering out entirely as their pieces fell into the flames below. She was too busy running the opposite way over all the shelves and jumping straight out busted hole in the wall, rolling to her feet in the street outside and whirling around to stare down the remaining three mechanoids as her neck burned.
45 -> 44
Ena, Bente, and Ekadon stared back at her as her mark twisted from 45 to 44. The blue bot was crouched down by the truck, the head of Chilio and the torso of Myrio lying on the ground in front of them as they looked back at her. Bente and Ena, meanwhile, were just standing in the road, staring. Then there was a harsh crackle of what she recognized as laughter as Bente stepped forward, flexing his hands as the blades popped from between his fingers again. ¡°You¡¯re a lot more impressive than any of us expected.¡± ¡°Bente-¡± ¡°Ena. Sis.¡± He turned back to her, raising one arm to point his blades at Nimia. ¡°You can¡¯t tell me ¡®no¡¯ here. This woman has harmed our family. She¡¯s likely killed two of our siblings. And she¡¯s easily the best killer we¡¯ve faced in a long time.¡± He crackled again. ¡°I want this. I want her blood on my claws. You can hear the blades here, can¡¯t you? They¡¯re singing for blood.¡± ¡°You¡¯d know a lot about blood, wouldn¡¯t you, big guy?¡± Nimia grinned back at him as he turned towards her. ¡°You and Ena there, out of all your siblings, have that going on the most. Now, don¡¯t get me wrong. I could feel it with Theka back there. They¡¯ve got my respect. But they didn¡¯t have that bloodlust like you do. They were driven by a protective rage.¡± She couldn¡¯t help the genuine smile on her face. ¡°I can respect that. Honestly, I respect all of you. She pointed her darling right at Bente. ¡°All of you have that protective instinct, but you two in particular have a bloodlust, and an ambition. So come on. One on one, or two on one. Your choice.¡± They both stared at her, then Bente crackled one more time. His blades suddenly popped back into his hands, and he stepped forward, walking towards her. ¡°Wait.¡± And despite his stated intentions, Bente did stop in his tracks when Ena spoke again, turning to look at her. ¡°Two on one. We fight together, never alone.¡± ¡°Gladly.¡± Ena suddenly turned and went back to the truck. She climbed into the back, and returned about half a minute later with two sheathed swords in her hands. Simple sabers with straight blades, a lot like the katana Nimia carried. Pretty damn different though in many regards, considering Bente¡¯s shone a solid crimson and burned with an obvious heat while Ena¡¯s glowed an electric blue. ¡°Hm. Any reason you two didn¡¯t bring those out earlier?¡± Nimia asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s pretty tricky to use my claws and a sword at the same time,¡± Bente replied, tossing the sheathe to the side and casually spinning the sword in his hand, before pointing its tip straight at her. ¡°We expected to kill you quickly. That was a miscalculation.¡± Ena placed both hands on her hilt, staring straight at Nimia with those vibrant red eyes. ¡°We shall not repeat it.¡± Nimia just smirked back. ¡°Sorry, but you might be wrong there, again. This is gonna go real quick.¡± And she immediately dashed straight forward, stabbing straight at Ena without any hesitation. Equally immediately, Bente leapt in front of the blow, swinging his own blade up to block her feint, but she was already twisting around him right as Ena tried to do the same, darting past her brother and aiming to split Nimia¡¯s head from her shoulders. Their swords met in a clash of steel and song of lightning, sending Nimia¡¯s left arm seizing, her sword dropping from twitching fingers even as her right fist rocketed forward, smashing straight into Ena¡¯s face and knocking her back hard enough that she dented the truck¡¯s cabin. In an instant, Nimia ducked a slash from Bente as he swung for her head, grabbed her sword before it hit the ground, and swung it straight to the side, splitting through the android¡¯s abdomen. No letting up this time though, and she spun with the swing, raising up and splitting Bente¡¯s head in half, right through the dots forming his mouth.
44 -> 43
Still, better safe than sorry, and one more swing split the severed half of his head horizontally, the lights of his eyes flickering out in the instant that Ena charged right at Nimia, a scream of pure rage erupting from the gynoid as she swung hard and fast. And Nimia had to admit, while it was obvious that Ena wasn¡¯t a master swordswoman by any means, she sure did put a lot of force into her swings. Wild, reckless force, the type seeking to overwhelm her at all costs, and Nimia could actually feel herself being forced back even as her neck burnt again, giving more and more ground as Ena tried her damndest to smash her sword and cut straight through her. And she couldn''t exactly say it wasn¡¯t working. The heat, the cold, the constant blows; they were all taking a toll on Nimia¡¯s muscles, her guard finally starting to sink under the onslaught, unable to be ignored any longer, which just encouraged the tireless gynoid to swing even harder. ¡°Die.¡± Nimia almost blinked at the sudden word, the sudden order coming from Ena, but that was only the first droplet in an oncoming deluge, every word punctuating a harder and faster cut coming quicker and quicker until she was on one knee, her teeth grit as she tried her damnedest not to- ¡°-die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE¨C¡± And suddenly, Nimia was falling back, on the ground, and her hand dropped from her sword right as Ena lifted her own blade for one last cut when the magnum formed in Nimia¡¯s left hand and she fired rapidly up, spending every last bullet in the magazine into Ena¡¯s chest. The gynoid froze, twitching as black blood leaked from the eight holes spreading from the center of her chest, her red eyes flickering for a moment as she stared down at Nimia. ¡°...Yhh...You cheated.¡± Nimia, meanwhile, tried to control her breathing, slowly shaking her head in lieu of a real response. ¡°It...I-It¡¯s a...d-death match...notta duel¡­¡± She pushed herself up on her steel arm, staring up at Ena. ¡°You...brought your brother in...I brought my gun in...Though...if it makes you feel any better...I feel like an ass right now¡­¡± She chuckled, grimacing at herself as her sweat soaked her clothes, adding an extra bite to the cold around her. ¡°I couldn¡¯t win with just a blade. You were better than me there.¡± ¡°...Huh. Odd.¡± Ena¡¯s eyes brightened for a moment. ¡°Strangely, that does make me feel better.¡± And then her eyes dimmed and she slowly dropped backward, crashing to the ground. It took Nimia five minutes to actually climb back to her feet. Even then, her legs were shaking bad. She paused, waiting, then let out a slightly relieved breath as her neck burned again, the recently gained 43¨C
43 -> 42
¨Cshifting into a 42. She really didn¡¯t want to have to shoot a helpless opponent. Then Nimia glanced up from Ena¡¯s ventilated body and saw Ekadon staring right at her, the blue mechanoid¡¯s green eyes focused right on hers. ¡°You gonna try anything?¡± she asked, standing straight and trying to look ready, despite how it felt like her muscles were outright burning. ¡°No.¡± they replied, short and simple. ¡°...okay, good. I didn¡¯t want to waste any bullets.¡± Nimia let out a low breath, letting herself relax, if only slightly. ¡°...so that¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Indeed. I cannot fight. My siblings are similarly incapacitated.¡± They glanced at Chilio¡¯s head. ¡°Some more than others.¡± ¡°Yeah, I noticed. Just feeling sorta weird here. I don¡¯t usually talk with an opponent after a battle.¡± She shrugged, her hands on her hips. ¡°So are you gonna be a problem for me later?¡± ¡°Perhaps. Primarily: Repairs will be required. Vengeance: Tertiary concern.¡± ¡°...Kay.¡± Nimia was a little curious what their secondary concerns would be, but whatever, so she turned and started walking. ¡°See you around then.¡± ¡°Wait.¡± She paused, glancing at Ekadon again. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You won.¡± They inclined their head towards Ena¡¯s corpse. ¡°You have the right to my sister¡¯s sword.¡± ¡°Really? Is that how that works?¡± ¡°It is.¡± Okay, so they really didn¡¯t get sarcasm. ¡°It is how she gained it. You should too.¡± ¡°Nope. I couldn¡¯t beat her with my sword, so I don¡¯t have any right to hers.¡± ¡°Then what of my brother¡¯s?¡± She shrugged. ¡°Nah. No disrespect, but I like my darling just fine for now. Sure, I wouldn¡¯t mind upgrading her, but it doesn¡¯t feel right taking either of their blades. Consider it a weird sense of honor. But hey, if you get fixed up and want to come at me with them¡­¡± Ekadon abruptly crackled, laughing just like their brother. ¡°Potentially. Goodbye, Miss Altamirano.¡± ¡°Same to you.¡± Nimia gave them a casual salute, then walked off, more than ready to rest up after a rough, but fun, fight. And then she doubled back because she left her bike the other way. At least Ekadon didn¡¯t say shit, though she swore the little pissant found it funny. Well, whatever. Hopefully her next fight would take place somewhere nicer. 41 - Jacqueline Abigail Byers
Match 8 #42 Nimia Altamirano vs #41 Jacqueline Abigail ¡°Triple-Jack¡± Byers
Inventory: 1 Katana - "Darling" 2 .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums - "Sonya and Cleon" 1 9mm Semi-Automatic Pistol 67.5 million dollars
So Nimia was pretty damn sure she shouldn¡¯t ask for nice things, because there was no way she was going to get them. Albin was easily the most miserable island she¡¯d ever been on, and she¡¯d been on a few shit islands. The main problem for it was the simple fact that it was ridiculously cold. But not a dry cold or even a snowy cold; the cold of Albin was a rainy, foggy, miserable cold, the type that soaked and clung like mud to cloth, though at least it slid off her yellow raincoat easily enough... So yeah, she wasn¡¯t having a great time in the flooded, overgrown city she was trudging through, where trees, vines and moss ripped through and completely covered ancient buildings. It was probably beautiful, once upon a time, but now it was a wretched ruin, teeming with life, but very little of it human. It was hard to believe anyone could¡¯ve lived in a place like this, but apparently the 41st ranked made the wrecked city their home, so she was pretty fucked here. ¡°Uuuugh, why...Why all the cold places? This is shit,¡± she grumbled, glaring up at the offensively cloudy sky. At least it wasn¡¯t raining right at that moment. And that was about when she heard the singing. ¡°-eam train riding on a reckless rail, speeding right into the rising gale, shovel harder cos we¡¯re on your tail, London¡¯s bloody cry~!¡± sung the woman walking down the street, her black boots kicking up water with every step as she casually carried a lantern in her gloved hand, announcing her presence to the whole world. Or at least anyone in this area of the city. She certainly was an interesting-looking lady; one who almost looked like she was dressed for a funeral. She wore a black coat, one that hung low over her equally dark pants, and a black tie and undershirt, from what Nimia could see. She also had a black, silk top hat on¨Cwith a black ribbon because of course¨Calong with black-rimmed glasses. Add in her short, close-cropped, jet black hair, and she definitely looked like she was sticking hard to a theme. Oh, and she was also pretty tall. At least a couple inches taller than Nimia, who was already damn tall herself. ¡°Huh. Well hey there, Smiley.¡± Nimia raised a hand in greeting, taking in the woman¡¯s carved up face. Somebody had clearly taken an exception to her cheery attitude at some point, judging by the deep cuts splitting both of her cheeks open in a gruesome parody of a grin. They healed badly too, leaving her pale, freckled skin marred by pale, twisted scars that seemed to curl closer to her cheekbones. ¡°Hoy there yerself, missy~! Lovely day we¡¯re havin¡¯, innit?¡± Nimia glanced up at the fog, then back down at Smiley. ¡°...In some ways, I guess? Does it get worse around here?¡± ¡°Oh certainly, can most certainly get far far far worse out ¡®round ¡®ere! Ah, but where¡¯re me manners? You can call me Jacky! I expect you¡¯d be Nimia then?¡± ¡°Yup, that¡¯s me. Nice to meet you, hope you¡¯ll be fun to fight.¡± ¡°Ah, same to you, love! Heh, gotta get some kinda fun out round here these days, y¡¯know?¡± Jacky chuckled, hooking her lantern to her belt and brushing down her coat, before spreading her arms wide. ¡°Been gaggin¡¯ for a good fight, so how ¡®bout we get started?¡± Nimia raised an eyebrow. ¡°No speeches?¡± ¡°Do y¡¯want one?¡± ¡°Heh. Well, hey, who am I to get pissed if someone wants to get right to it?¡± She smirked. ¡°Gotta say, I¡¯ll miss the foreplay.¡± ¡°Oh not to worry, missy. We¡¯ll ¡®ave plenty time to chat once I¡¯ve cut your head off~!¡± The barest shift of the water signalled Jacky¡¯s immediate charge at Nimia. She was fast; almost looked like she was walking on the water as she sprinted, two long knives¨Csingle-edged, scramasaxes¨Cin both gloved hands. Still, she was a lot slower than Nimia expected. One swing split Jacky¡¯s chest open diagonally, a burst of blood dyeing the waters beneath them as Nimia stepped to the side, watching her opponent gasp and stumble past her. The woman in black took two steps, a third, then collapsed face first in the water. ¡°...Okay, come on, seriously?¡± Nimia waited a few seconds, then huffed. ¡°Really? You¡¯re doing this?¡± About a minute passed as she stared down at the really committed actor. ¡°...You realize my mark hasn¡¯t changed, right? I¡¯d notice-¡± She spun, catching the sudden stab at her back¨Cthat was a glaive; very sharp, bladed polearm¨Cand ducking under it, just barely missing with her retaliatory swipe as a second Jacky¨Cthe fuck¨Crapidly backed up with a cheeky grin on her scarred face¨Cexact same scars as the first, exact same placement, probably not a surprise twin. ¡°Ooo, got some fast reflexes on ye, aye? Heh, gonna have a lotta fun with ye!¡± ¡°Huh. Okay, duplication. That¡¯s a new one.¡± So Jacky-2 had a glaive, and the ribbon on her hat was cyan instead of black, as was her undershirt. ¡°Color-coded too.¡± ¡°Ah, got it in one, ha! Well, not quite, but I can¡¯t blame ya fer not figurin¡¯ out all¡¯a our tricks so quick. Rip, ye be gettin¡¯ up yet or are ye sleepin¡¯ fer twenty years?¡± ¡°Wrong bint.¡± Well that was an angry-sounding voice. Nimia chanced a glance back and saw the water around Jacky abruptly evaporate completely as she shoved herself up, turning her glare on Nimia. Her glasses-less glare¨Cwhich was weird because Nimia didn¡¯t see them in the water anywhere¨Cthat showed off two of the freakiest eyes she¡¯d ever seen. Now, granted, they weren¡¯t too strange; the only really weird part was her irises, which¨Cinstead of being a solid color¨Cwere clearly divided into three thirds in orange, gray, and blue. And considering Angry Jacky¨Cwho also, notably, actually had her scars curving down into a scowl instead of up into a smile¨Chad an orange undershirt and hat-ribbon, Nimia was starting to see a theme going on there. ¡°Alright, you can split yourself in three and swap out with your duplicates. That¡¯s new, and weird, but alright, I can roll with it,¡± Nimia said, letting her darling¡¯s blade rest on her shoulder for the moment, ¡°So where¡¯s the original? ¡®Rip¡¯, was it?¡± ¡°I prefer Carver, if you don¡¯t mind! Least sounds more original!¡± came the third Jacky¡¯s voice, up and over on top of a lampost, a playful grin on her fucked up face. And sure enough, gray ribbon, gray shirt. ¡°Gotta say, weren¡¯t expectin¡¯ you to put things together so quick! Most never figure it out afore I cut ¡®em!¡± ¡°I like to think I¡¯m open to weird possibilities.¡± ¡°Ah, so you¡¯re a right loony then, good tae know~!¡± Jacky Blue giggled, grinning wide as she let her glaive rest over her own shoulders. ¡°Most never put it together, certainly, but the ones that see all¡¯a us together least assume we¡¯re triplets! Jumpin¡¯ right tae ¡®duplicates¡¯ sounds a more¡¯n little barmy, aye?¡± ¡°Aye. But it seems reasonable enough. The swap-out thing was a little unexpected though.¡± Nimia glanced over Orange Jacky. ¡°Can you do that all the time, or just when you¡¯re manifesting?¡± ¡°And why the fuck would I tell you anythin¡¯ you right cunt?¡± ¡°Ha! Aw, don¡¯t expect much outta Stingy there, she¡¯s a right arsehole,¡± Jacky Blue warned, giggling again. ¡°You fuck off with that ¡®Stingy¡¯ shite, got it? If fuckin¡¯ Rip gets ta call ¡®erself ¡®Carver¡¯, I can pick a fuckin¡¯ name of me own,¡± Orange snarled right back. So, angry, cheerful...also cheerful? Hm, weird dynamic here. ¡°Ah, but Ember¡¯s so clich¨¦~! We can¡¯t be havin¡¯ that! Might as well call me Frosty if we¡¯re goin¡¯ that route!¡± she complained, all with that same cheerful grin. ¡°And what would that be?¡± Nimia asked, glancing around the Jacks, ¡°Gray over there is Jacky Carve, orange is Jacky Em, and that makes you¡­?¡± ¡°Jacky Glacier, at yer service, love~!¡± ¡°Right. Alright, guess that¡¯s established.¡± Nimia smirked. ¡°So who¡¯s first?¡± Glace was, apparently, kicking things off by swinging her glaive out at Nimia with one hand, nearly catching her with the blade before she jumped out of the way and into a roll under the plume of flame Em nearly bathed her in, which actually reminded her of her last fight. Had it already been a week since she was stuck in that burning warehouse? Regardless, time to focus and avoid being charbroiled by a pyrokinetic. Which was a hell of a lot trickier than dealing with someone with a flamethrower; instead of just spraying flames everywhere in huge bursts, the fires Em conjured twisted around themselves, forming into large serpents that seemed to roar as they dove at Nimia. Kinda made her wish she could cut them apart...Actually¡­ So that¡¯s how Nimia wound up having to dive into the street-water when it turned out slicing a fiery construct did not, in fact, smash it into harmless embers with a fancy gust of wind. Clearly, she needed to practice and also shove herself up and out of the water quick as it suddenly froze under her. ¡°Aw, almost got ye there!¡± Glace chuckled, lifting her frost-covered hand up from the ground as she sauntered over to stand by her fiery counterpart. Hm. Glace was walking on the frozen sheet she¡¯d turned the water into, but Em stood in a little pool all her own. Did it melt that quickly around her? ¡°Fire and ice, neat. So what¡¯s that make¨C¡± And she abruptly dropped forward and slammed her foot back and up into Carve¡¯s jaw, smashing her teeth together and launching her back up into the air. ¡°¨Cthis bitch here?¡± She straightened, grinning as her attempted ambusher crashed to the ground further down the street with a loud splash, followed by two more splashes as her knives dropped into the street water too. ¡°Knives aren¡¯t really an element. Though I guess she does move pretty quick? Is it a ¡®wind¡¯ thing?¡± ¡°...Well alright then, now that was unexpected!¡± Glace laughed, glancing at Em. ¡°This one¡¯s gonna be a tricky bint, in¡¯ she?¡± ¡°Damn right tricky, yeah.¡± Em just rolled her shoulders, spreading her hands as her gloves caught aflame. ¡°Gettin¡¯ serious sounds good.¡± ¡°Aye, if¡¯n ye think. Oh, and Rip¡¯s not real ¡®windy¡¯, if ye catch my drift~. More¡¯a metal gal.¡± ¡°Huh. How interesting,¡± Nimia replied as she deliberately leaned to the side, dodging as Carve quite literally sprung past her. Like, her legs were literally springs, literally. The lower parts¨Cshins mainly, her feet were still there¨Cbut it was still weird. ¡°Also feeling like you seriously missed an opportunity here by not having her be lightning. Like, that¡¯s a classic trio there.¡± ¡°Well there¡¯s no Lightning Jack out there, now is there, you smarmy bint?!¡± Carve shouted back, her current scowl at odds with her carved-in grin. She just generally looked a whole lot more wild too, her hair actually longer and suddenly grayer while her bared teeth definitely looked sharper. And those were actual claws jutting out of her gloves. Huh. Oh, and her glasses were off too, showing her freaky eyes, same as Em. Did she even need them to see? ¡°Losin¡¯ your temper right easy there, notta smart plan-¡± ¡°Oh piss off!¡± Carve scowled at Em, then turned her glare on Nimia again. ¡°Frost, gut the twat!¡± ¡°Aw, ye cheeky cunt, can¡¯t even bother gettin¡¯ me name right now?¡± Glacier sighed in annoyance, still grinning all the while. ¡°Permission tae go full on then, iron queen?¡± ¡°The fuck do you think!?¡± ¡°Just makin¡¯ sure, no need tae rip ma liver out.¡± Glace smirked, then abruptly rushed Nimia, stabbing straight for her before suddenly bending back ridiculously quickly as Nim dodged to the side and swung for her head, though Glace still kept traveling¨COkay, she had ice skates on now, that was different. She was pretty deft with them too, turning on a dime on the rime and beaming wide as she came around for another pass, this time swinging up from the ground to try to cut Nimia¡¯s head off. So Nim ducked low and swung her blade out, cutting Glace¡¯s feet off straight at the ankle.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Whoa!¡± Glace¡¯s eyes went wide as she flew over Nimia, her stumps noticeably not bleeding while her feet clattered and bounced across the ice, bursting into shards of ice just in time for another fiery serpent to go rocketing straight at Nimia, who jumped straight over it and swung her darling again just in time to catch Carve, who had to switch to blocking¨CAnd actually managed to keep Nimia from bisecting her with just her hands, huh. So her ¡°iron¡± was even harder than what the mech siblings were made of, good to know. It did mean she¡¯d need to come up with something new to win though, so she started off by bringing her foot up and kicking Carve straight in the chest, aiming to get some distance, and as they both flew back from each other, she formed her Cleon in her free hand and fired straight past Carve and into Em¡¯s lantern. The fiery Jacky had about a second for her eyes to widen before the lantern outright erupted, the explosion shattering every unbroken glass on the street and sending Nimia skidding down the ice. ¡°Huh! Hahahaha!¡± Glace cackled, staring at the flames through her shattered glasses with a wide, giddy grin. ¡°Ye gone ¡®n fucked yerself hard now ye dumb cunt!¡± Eh? ¡°Bloody slag,¡± Carver snarled in a much lower tone, her scowl again at odds with her cut-in grin, ¡°Takes forever ta get a decent lantern ¡®round here!¡± ¡°Huh. So that didn¡¯t kill you. Right, shouldn¡¯t expect it to be that easy,¡± Nimia muttered, eyeing the raging conflagration at the end of the street and the quite large shape starting to form up out of the fire¨C ¡°That is a dragon.¡± That was a dragon. Apparently Jacky Ember had the power to transform into a fifteen-foot dragon. So that was an issue. Big, scaly, classical Western type too, with arms and legs and wings¨Cso six limbs total; did dragons count as insects?¨Cand she was made of fire. Scarlet fire, way redder than any fire should actually be, and shaped into the heavily detailed scales and ridges that made up the dragon¡¯s narrow, almost serpentine body, which tapered off into a pointed tail. Though, okay, so not every part of Em¡¯s body was red now. The pupils and sclerae of her eyes were a pitch-black. But they were also made out of fire, so, huh. And they were also narrowed in Nimia¡¯s direction, right as the thunder of an incoming storm boomed in the air¡­ Hm. Question now was, were those swept back points on the sides of her head supposed to be horns or ears¨CAnd now Nimia was running because a big dragon just breathed a massive plume of flame at her and she was in no way sure how to deal with that at the moment. Dragons were kinda out of her realm of experience. Now figure skaters, those she¡¯d fought before, which was why taking Glace¡¯s legs out before was so easy. So seeing the icy Jacky forming up out of the water further down the alleyway was somewhat surprising. Her legs weren¡¯t reformed though¨Cinstead, they were more like icy pillars coming out of the water¨Cand her whole body looked like it¡¯d turned to solid ice. ¡°Wrong turn there, but not tae worry. Least now ye won¡¯t have tae burn tae death.¡± Her split lips spread into a wide grin that got wider by the second, her whole face stretching forward as her body bulged and expanded outward, upward, and forward. Then there was an eruption of ice and Nimia¡¯s brain stuttered for a moment as it tried to reconcile her fluctuating perception of reality with the fact that Glace was a fucking horse. An icy blue horse with a mane of frozen spikes, that same still cut-up smile¨Cwhich looked even freakier on a horse with how it was baring her teeth¨Cand a fucking spiral horn extending from her forehead like she was some type of land-based narwhal¨Ccorrection, she was a unicorn, what¨Cand then Nimia had to run the exact opposite way because as Glace reared up, all the water between her and the huge ice-icorn burst with massive ice spikes racing straight for her and oh right, huge fire dragon was back thataway and was glaring straight at her through the alley entrance and now there was fire breath so welp, good thing there were buildings! And with that thought, Nimia promptly turned and rushed straight at the wall right next to her, ramming her metal shoulder into and through the old, wrecked stone, then rushed straight on through as the walls of ice and fire collided hard in massive flash of steam. Which was still really damn hot so it was a good thing she dove over some weird, mossy lump that might¡¯ve been a chair at some point. Didn¡¯t really matter though, since escaping death one didn¡¯t mean shit if she couldn¡¯t keep on doing it, so up she went and out she went into some mold-covered hallway as the icy steed from Hell smashed right through the wall she just broke through, letting out a whinny that sounded almost like crazed laughter as the temperature dropped and the already rotting building started to freeze. Really, it was a testament to whoever built them that these buildings had even lasted this long in such a shitty state¨Cand that just gave Nimia a really good idea, a whole lot of thoughts suddenly slotting into place as she bolted for where the stairs had to be and thanked every almighty that the damn things were still intact. They wouldn¡¯t be for long at the rate Glace was going¨Cthe psycho cryo was smashing straight through the walls of the building, laugh-neighing the whole time, while coating everything around her with a deep frost¨Cso running fast was a fantastic idea here. The stairs creaked and squealed and even cracked as Nimia ran up them¨Cwhich was worrying because she was pretty sure they were all made of concrete or at least some kind of stone¨Cbut she kept her steps light and tried her damndest to just get up to the top without tripping and breaking her neck, a feat that got a whole lot harder to accomplish as Glace reached the landing and decided to let loose with a massive blast of swirling frost. Nimia got out on the roof just as the pillar of ice smashed straight through the staircase. She paused for a second, waiting, then smirked when she heard the crash and crackle of fiery claws digging into stone. And right in the perfect spot between the two buildings forming that alley. So off she went, sprinting straight across the roof and hoping like hell her impromptu plan was going to work as she jumped from one building to the other, right as Em pulled herself up and nearly snapped those huge, burning teeth right on her. Nimia landed, rolled, and formed Sonya in her hands, holding it with both to keep it fully stable and aiming straight at the scowling dragon. Not yet though, she had to wait until Glace leapt up onto the opposite roof, landing hard on the stone with a burst of ice, and at that exact moment, Nimia fired straight through Em¡¯s head. And sure enough, the burning dragon wasn¡¯t fully solid, her flames splitting as the bullets flew on through, but the icy unicorn, on the opposite side, was totally solid, and very shootable. So when Nimia fired six shots into the roaring inferno, they came out the other side superheated and even burning with the otherworldly fire Em was made of, and when they slammed straight into Glace¡¯s chest as the dramatic unicorn reared up, her mighty battlecry cut out quick with a shocked gasp and a shriek of steam. All six bullets seared straight through her icy flesh and by the time Em fully twisted and pulled herself onto the roof Nimia landed on, Glace had crumpled to the ground in broken chunks of ice. That did still leave an enraged dragon¨Cher blazing teeth bared in a gruesome, far too long scowl¨Cabout to lunge at her. Shame she never got the chance. Nimia couldn¡¯t help her smile as the first few raindrops landed on her head, and it quickly spread into a wide grin when Em went completely stiff. ¡°Bad luck, big gal. Though hey, thanks for making it easy for me by coming up here.¡± ¡°...Ha. Cheeky bint. Though ye haven¡¯t won yet, diawl bach.¡± Ember suddenly smirked, her split lips curling up in a smile as the rain fell heavy and hard. In only a few seconds, the massive dragon was reduced down to to floating embers of extinguished flame, until those too went out. Which left just one more Jacky for Nimia to kill. Assuming she actually did beat the two freakier members of the trio. It was always hard to tell with these weird, not-quite-magic types, she thought to herself as she looked through the increasingly thick deluge of rain. They had some type of rules they played by, but that meant figuring out what those rules actually were. Fire and ice were easy enough, just kill them with the opposite. Metal though...what was the opposite for metal? It was a question she¡¯d have to figure out really quickly because Jacky abruptly smashed straight up through the ceiling beneath her¨Cwould that make it the floor? Question for later¨Cand would¡¯ve carved straight up through her guts if Nimia hadn¡¯t jerked back at the sudden shift in the roof under her feet. She fired as she jumped back, missing one and hitting the second because Jacky wasn¡¯t even bothering to dodge, letting the bullet slam into her cheek and crumple into a little disk, which fell from her face as she ran straight at Nimia, lunging with her claws and leading to a slight repeat of her match with Bente as she dodged claw swipes and thrusts and tried to get distance, which was also fucking tricky because she was still on a roof; one with a big hole in the center so she couldn¡¯t even maneuver that well. ¡°Hey, you wanna take this somewhere else?!¡± she shouted as she ducked another claw with a grin, ¡°We¡¯d have more fun if we could move!¡± ¡°Ha! Ye really think I¡¯ll give ye a chance like¨C¡± Thank God for her inventory. In a second, she switched out her magnum for her darling, dove close, and shoved her blade straight into Jacky¡¯s open mouth. Simple logic was that the metal lady¡¯s internals couldn¡¯t be as solid as her externals, right? Well, that was the thought, up until her tip clinked at the back of Jacky¡¯s throat and didn¡¯t go back out the other way. Then Jacky grinned and¨Cbefore Nimia could pull back¨Cchomped down hard on the flat of her sword, snapping it straight in half. Which wow, that was not at all how she wanted this to go, fuck. ¡°...I liked that sword-¡± Nimia ducked back Jacky tried to slam her claws into the sides of her head, banishing her broken darling back to her inventory as she lunged up and smashed her metal fist straight into Jacky¡¯s chin. Not literally smashed, thankfully¨Cher knuckles were still intact¨Cand Jacky did get launched back, clutching at her mouth as she growled in fury. ¡°Fucking cun-HEY!¡± Suffice to say, Nimia was taking advantage of the distraction and rushed straight for the hole. Jumping straight down a few stories through a smashed open roof didn¡¯t seem like the best idea, but fuck it, she had another idea and the rain was going to help with it. Sure enough, Carver really had jumped straight from the bottom floor right to the roof¨Cprobably with those springs¨Cand absolutely wrecked the lower floors on the way, so Nimia had to contend with a few jutting chunks of wood that probably could¡¯ve impaled her but made some pretty decent handholds as she parkored to the bottom in some totally cool moves that would take way too long to describe. Still, she made it to the bottom just in time to dodge out of the way as Jacky came crashing right after her, kicking up a ton of dust and sending down into the basement. ¡°BLOODY CU-!¡± ¡°Whoops. Hmm¡­¡± Nimia listened for a moment, heard muffled swearing, and promptly turned and headed right on out of the building, rolling her shoulders as the rain came down harder and harder, turning the already flooded streets into what could easily become a full on river of water and mud. Perfect. So once she closed the door to the building and stepped out into the street, she waited for a few seconds, standing in the water and staring at what might¡¯ve once been an apartment building. Well, not directly at it; she stood at least a good distance away from where the doors stood. Good she did too; otherwise the door would¡¯ve hit her once Jacky kicked it open. The once dapper woman looked a whole hell of a lot worse after her choice to plunge however many feet that was through solid concrete, and far more broken wood and plaster. Not only was her coat gone entirely, and her sleeves and pant legs were noticeably torn¨Cshowing off her decently muscled arms and legs, along with the myriad of mutilating scars crisscrossing all over them¨Cbut her little gash stitches had torn open completely, showing off the wide, ripped-open mouth she had and baring her sharpened teeth in a vicious scowl. Her chest heaved with every breath, her hair was long, wild, and matted with rain, and her bizarre eyes were wide and dilated, like every bit of composure she¡¯d had was absolutely shredded. ¡°Sup,¡± Nimia greeted with a raised hand and a grin. ¡°...Heh. Sehehehehe-Mmgh, ha, sorry bout that,¡± she replied, brushing the hair from her eyes and slicking it back with a clawed hand, ¡°Losin¡¯ meself ¡®ere. Can¡¯t go lettin¡¯ dark things out and shovin¡¯ ¡®em back in without fuckin¡¯ somethin¡¯ up¡­¡± ¡°Neat. Not sure what that means, don¡¯t really bother with ¡®mystic¡¯ stuff. Fighting¡¯s what I know, so if me fucking you up has weakened the island or whatever, sorry?¡± Nim shrugged, letting her hand drop. ¡°So, last round?¡± ¡°Last round. Might as well include some pillow talk then, aye?¡± Jacky grinned as she walked out into the street, not too close just yet. ¡°Can¡¯t say much though. I doubt ye want my life¡¯s story.¡± ¡°I dunno, might be neat to hear. You seem like a woman with a fucked up history.¡± ¡°Ha! Ah, that¡¯s an accurate one.¡± Jacky tilted her head up, watching the sky. ¡°...Lemme tell ye somethin¡¯. Killers, they¡¯re overrated.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± She held up a finger, still staring up. ¡°Serial killers, t¡¯be clear. Buncha right assholes they are, gettin¡¯ their names in ¡®istory just cos they do terrible things. None¡¯a ¡®em would ever stand where we are, fightin¡¯ to the death out in the rain. No, they gotta lure people, get ¡®em in close, savor it. They revel in it. ¡®S why I like killin¡¯ ¡®em the most. There¡¯s just somethin¡¯ satisfyin¡¯ about takin¡¯ a man everyone acts like is the greatest murderer of all time and drownin¡¯ ¡®im in the Thames. Her gaze dropped, but her smile remained. ¡°Poor bastard squirmed, but ¡®e killed a friend, so that was that. Still, rankled plenty to ¡®ear ¡®theories¡¯ and ¡®speculations¡¯ and all¡¯a the ¡®mystery¡¯. Can drive a girl mad, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± Nimia shrugged. ¡°Old world news doesn¡¯t interest me either. Why bother?¡± ¡°Ha. Ah, that¡¯s a good sentiment there, missy. Ne¡¯er could stand it though. I¡¯ll give you a nice little answer to the question you don¡¯t care for though. None of ¡®em, any one, has any deep motive. They just hate women.¡± Her eyes flicked to the skies one more time. ¡°Gotta thank you though. That lightnin¡¯ idea, real good one.¡± Aw fuckshit. Nimia bolted straight towards Jacky right as the electricity burst up, surging through her body and heating the air while the bolt itself raced down and set off a massive burst that by all rights should¡¯ve killed the 41st on the spot, but no, Jacky was not only alive, but her metal body was crackling with lightning, already sending it rushing through the knee-high water as Nimia slammed her own metal palm into Jacky¡¯s face and shoved her down into the building river. It hurt like hell. Nimia could feel her muscles¨Cartificial and organic¨Cseizing as she immediately moved both her hands to Jacky¡¯s throat and held her under, jamming her thumbs against her metal flesh. The water was alight with electricity, surging constantly off of the 41st¡¯s body as she just kept on grinning at Nimia from under the water. But in seconds, that grin got strained, and suddenly Nimia felt claws tearing at her, but without enough room to the swing. The water was heavy, and so was metal. Still, it was a rough contest. Jacky¡¯s claws ripped at Nim¡¯s jacket, her sides, her hips, her legs, anything and everything they could try to grab at as the electricity died down, dispersed into the deep waters. Deeper by the second, and getting darker too. Nimia still saw Jacky¡¯s face though, as ripped and contorted as it was, her grin still present and as wide as ever. A burst of bubbles¨Conly a few, not much air¨Ccame from her mouth as Jack started to laugh and dug her claws into Nimia¡¯s sides. The water was starting to get red and there was a pounding in Nim¡¯s head, but she held tight until¡­
42 -> 41
She coughed up some blood when Jack¡¯s grip finally went slack. It wasn¡¯t a good feeling. The burning sensation on her neck did make her feel warmer though, and as she stood, and Jacky¡¯s bloody claws slipped free of her skin, that good feeling spread across her weary body, and she quickly noticed her wounds starting to close up. Nice little benefit to being the winner then...Heh. Nimia let out a slow breath and let herself relax as she rubbed at her neck, feeling out the 41 now present there. A nice confirmation that she actually won that fight. Though now she needed to get a new sword...and probably get out from under the rain. So Nimia stood up in the increasingly deep water, then paused. Because Jacky was kinda dissolving. That, uh¡­ Her darling abruptly manifested in her hand along with its sheathe, somehow pulled straight out of her inventory by some kind of force, and the black, red, and blue motes drifting off of Jack¡¯s body lifted up and poured into her darling, suddenly twisting and warping until not just the blade and handle but the scabbard too shifted and reformed, from a katana into a straight, single-edged saber. One with a half-crimson, half-azure handle, a steel-gray guard, and a black and silver sheathe. ¡°...Huh. Weird.¡± Nimia shrugged, raising an eyebrow at the sword. ¡°...So, are you magic now or something?¡± The sword did not reply. ¡°...Kay then.¡± Magic swords. That was weird. Little out of her purview...If anyone asked, she was going to just say it was because of nanomachines. How did one woman turn into multiple and become giant beasts made out of fire and ice? Nanomachines. Nanomachines explained everything. ¡­ ...She should really get out of this fucking rain. 40 - Hyeon Cheol-Su
Match 9 #41 Nimia ¡°The White Tiger¡± Altamirano vs #40 Cheol-su ¡°The Black Tortoise¡± Hyeon
Inventory: 1 Katana - "Darling"(?) 2 .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums - "Sonya and Cleon" 1 9mm Semi-Automatic Pistol 67.5 million dollars
So should she rename Darling at this point? She¡¯d been upgraded, clearly, and might also have up to three ladies living inside of her. Then again, if they were dead, they weren¡¯t exactly living in her, now were they? Nimia pondered the conundrum as she finished adjusting the white metal plates now going over her artificial arm. Much like the white metal plates¨Cpainted with some neat, curving orange stripes¨Cgoing over the rest of her body, because she was wearing armor. Decently flexible armor, she had to admit as she did a couple stretches, testing the range of motion. She wasn¡¯t used to using mech armor by any stretch of the imagination, even this lightweight variant, but it was that or be blasted into viscera by a stray shot. A genuine concern considering the warzone she¡¯d be entering in a sec. Well, less a warzone and more a ¡°war game¡± zone. Not that it was any less deadly that an actual warzone, it¡¯s just that the rules were different. No cute little line up of two sides firing at each other from artillery points or fun skirmishes of poorly equipped guerillas trying their damnedest to bunker down in whatever shelter they could get against a superior enemy; nope, this was a bloody free-for-all where fractured or even somewhat stable countries could send in some representable representatives to represent them representingly in an international bloodsport. Y¡¯know, for funsies. Of course, there were plenty of political whatevers going on into all of it, and more than a few megacorps had their own stakes claimed for these types of games, but Nimia couldn¡¯t give any less of a shit about context! She had a number to claim, one belonging to Cheol-su Hyeon¨Cor Hyeon Cheol-su if one was going by Eastern conventions¨Cwho was apparently a pretty big deal in this type of thing. Undefeated champion or some such. Pretty neat, but not something she was particularly worried about. His titles didn¡¯t mean much. She was gonna kill him either way. ¡°Hello hello? Altamirano-san? Can you hear me properly?¡± the voice of her current ¡°sponsor¡± buzzed in her ear. To briefly explain, it turned out she needed one of those to actually enter the...tournament, thing? It wasn¡¯t exactly a tournament, there weren¡¯t brackets; it was more like beat and/or kill everyone between you and the champ, with the aim being to take out the champ overall, though plenty of teams apparently shot for different things instead. Oh, and there were teams. She¡¯d be going solo, but other groups existed out in the thing, and they¡¯d be aiming to eliminate the competition as sure as she was. ¡°Yeah, I hear you Mister Wakuri,¡± she replied to her temporary manager, one Spokesman Heizo Wakuri of Koroshi Industries. Apparently they¡¯d been impressed by her performance over at the Rolling Storm death race, so signing her on for this was pretty appealing. ¡°You gonna be talking in my ear this whole time?¡± ¡°Oh no, certainly not,¡± Wakuri replied, his tone light and amused, ¡°I am merely here to check your systems are all functioning properly. It would not do to have our demonstration of the Tokurata power armor to end with a death to malfunctioning audio, would it not?¡± ¡°Yeah, that would suck. Hey, this thing isn¡¯t going to suddenly snap my neck or anything, right?¡± ¡°No, certainly not. The armor is more like...plate mail, than the overly complex systems of interlocking servos and mechanism that make up the larger armor models out there.¡± ¡°Plate mail that could tank a missile?¡± ¡°The shielding likely could, with a small one. Do try to avoid being hit by missiles though.¡± ¡°Duly noted. All systems are a go?¡± ¡°Yes, they are. You are ready and cleared to participate in the fortieth Hun Zhan tournament.¡± Fun fact, Nimia had no idea what that name meant. Her online dictionary said it was something like ¡°dogfight¡±, but her Mandarin was rusty as fuck. ¡°Sweet. Hey, thanks for hooking me up with this.¡± Wakuri chuckled. ¡°It is of no issue. My employer took quite the interest in your previous battles, and looks forward to meeting you, should you succeed here today.¡± Ooo, ominous. ¡°Goodbye, Altamirano-san, and good luck.¡± ¡°Thanks again,¡± Nimia replied, grinning under her helmet¨Ca largely flat, full-face helm with an orange visor going over her eyes and a teeth-pattern printed over her mouth¨Cbefore bolting for the aircraft¡¯s opening doors and jumping straight out into a free fall over Jjigae, a mock-city set up on some island called Baekyo. Well, maybe it had been a city at some point? It looked like one. Would probably be a waste to build an entire cityscape with legit office buildings, shopping centers, and parks just for deathmatches, but that raised the question of what could¡¯ve killed off all the old residents¡­ Eh, a question for later, she decided, as she turned in mid air, drew one of her¨Cnewly upgraded and currently loaded with explosive rounds¨Cmagnums from her inventory, and fired¨Cwhile still falling¨Cat the dumb son of a bitch that tried to take a potshot at her from a nearby office roof. To her satisfaction, the blue-and-orange armored nobody was blasted off his feet by a round detonating straight in his face, and she promptly disregarded him as she continued plunging straight for the ground, twisting so her feet were down, dismissing her Sonya, and summoning her Darling as she dropped straight into an open firefight between more blue-and-orange goons and some red-and-green mooks. So she did what came naturally and cut the head off the nearest dumbass¨Cand damn was that a satisfying spray of red¨Cbefore jumping straight into the fray. Why hang out in cover behind cars when she could dodge and weave and cut mercenaries apart? Besides, the blorange dicks shot at her first, so fuck ¡®em. It did take the gathered goons a second to realize they had a third party in their midst, but by that point Nimia had cleaved through about three of them. Turned out, the big yellow energy shields they had strapped to their offhand wrists did jackshit when somebody smaller and lighter could dart around and bisect the wielder. Also, wow, it was weird for the 6¡¯3¡± Nimia to actually be the shortest person around. All these jackasses were over 7 feet tall! Some were nearing 8! Granted, they were all definitely getting height boosts from their power armor, so she could take some satisfaction in that¡­ That, and continuing her killstreak throughout the melee, particularly when the red-greens thought they could take advantage and gun her down easy. Really ungrateful on their part, and also pretty unnecessary considering she was planning to leave most of these people alone. Ah well, so it goes. Such were her thoughts as she finished decapitating the last of the red-greens. None of them were the guy she was looking for, so welp, onto the next batch! Really, what else was there to say? The ¡°tournament¡± was kind of a chaotic mess. Very anarchical, which she could appreciate if it was a little more convenient to her personal way of doing things. As it was, there were tons of people¨Cusually in smaller squads of six, though she was seeing some teams that had about twenty or so people in them¨Cjust in a constant state of conflict to wipe out the enemy teams, or avoiding conflict to keep their numbers up. That didn¡¯t really matter to Nimia though. Her target was the top boss, and while these random goons could be fun to fight, most of them just weren¡¯t that interesting. A lot of them were just mercenaries with assault rifles and straight swords, and while she wasn¡¯t fundamentally opposed to the gun-sword combo¨Chell, she used it all the time¨Cthere wasn¡¯t a lot of fun in fighting- ¡°LISTEN UP, ALL Y¡¯ALL LOST SOULS LOOKIN¡¯ FOR PURPOSE! Because have I got a damn good one in mind~.¡± Huh. Consider fate tempted. Nimia cooled her jets¨Cliterally, she had some neat booster jets on her armor to help her move faster¨Cand paused in the middle of one torn up plaza, staring up at the massive display screen up on one building. And sure enough, up on it, was Nero, grinning as usual. Though he had Bianca beside him this time. ¡°Now, listen up and listen good! Not that you can really keep from listenin¡¯, considerin¡¯ we¡¯ve hijacked every last one of your sound systems for the mo.¡± Well, that explained why he was coming through so clearly. Also, huh, Bianca was speaking along with him, but in...Han? Han, probably, translating with the local lingua franca. ¡°But don¡¯t you worry, we¡¯ve got a good show, and isn¡¯t nice to take it slow? We got things you¡¯ll need to know, so listen up, and go with our flow~.¡± He paused for a second. ¡°Wait, shit, does any of that translate into rhyme properly? Ah whatever, you get the point. ¡°And here¡¯s my point! Now some of you probably know this already, but there¡¯s a new bitch on the block and I¡¯m sure everyone wants to know her name and number!¡± Aw fuckshit. Again. And sure enough, there was her face, up onscreen again. Though it was specifically her fully helmeted face. So not really her face, but something that would make her even more recognizable to everyone around. So...shit. ¡°Anyway, you might know this babe here as Nimia Altamirano! And if you don¡¯t, you might know her as the forty-first ranked! And if you don¡¯t know that, now you do!¡± His grin turned sinister. ¡°And you also know anyone who kills the forty-first has a whole hell of a better chance at killing the fortieth. ¡°Oh, and as a bonus, there¡¯s currently an active bounty of fifteen million on the White Tiger prowling around down there.¡± Oh sweet, jumped up by a lot. Last time someone offered money for her head, it was 2 million with de Magalhaes...Hm, was that still active? Well, this one probably superseded it¨C ¡°Now, I know that¡¯s not nearly as much as our own forty million Black Tortoise, but we¡¯ve all gotta start somewhere, and you know money¡¯s still money~.¡± ¡°¡­Hmph.¡± Nimia couldn¡¯t help but pout. He just undercut her so fast there...Dick move. Dick move... ¡°So hey, you wanna take your shot? Get somethin¡¯ few people could ever hope to have? Gain actual fuckin¡¯ immortality for the low low price of one human life?¡± Nero chuckled, his fingers clasped and resting on his desk, a pose Bianca mimicked. Right down to the low chuckle, very committed there. ¡°Get to it.¡± Nimia shifted her head slightly, then had to bite back a cheer as she saw a sniper shot go right past her head. Heh, timed that exactly right¨C ¡°HEY! YOU¡¯RE THE SAME FUCK FROM EARLIER!¡± Fucking hell, since when do headshots not kill people? Granted, there was a big crack in his helmet where she¡¯d shot the dude and the rest of his armor looked scorched to crap¨Cas seen through her Koroshi Brand Monoai Enhancement Visor?!¨Cso...guess the armor was just better than she thought. Or the dumbass got lucky. Kinda far to try to hit him though¨CWhoops, he tried to shoot her for a third time, all bets were off now and bitch boy blue was gonna get fucked. So it was to her immense frustration that the wily fucker actually managed to get away from her, not once, but multiple times as she chased the little¨Cokay, pretty tall¨Cbastard around the city. It wasn¡¯t that she couldn¡¯t outpace him; he was just wily as fuck, admittedly good at both parkour and hiding, and she kept getting distracted by various opponents in her way, most of which were shit. Easily shot or sliced apart, though a few were at least a little fun. She did get pretty damn distracted going up against a huge, four-armed guy in red and brown armor, wielding a massive hammer. Required a good bit of finesse to work around him, lots of jumping off counters and over racks as he smashed through the boutique she¡¯d wound up in. Was fun enough, kinda reminded her of 72¨Cthough that guy had two hammers, not one big one¨Cthough she actually gave him a good fight before she juked around an overhead swing and split through his spine with her heated sword, instead of just shooting the dick. Oh yeah, she also got some practice in with her newly upgraded darling¨Cpossible name: Darlington?¨Cwho now came in ¡°slightly hotter¡± and ¡°kinda colder¡± varieties, in addition to the basic steel. No lightning yet, but what she had was pretty okay, if she felt like changing things up and playing around. No special unicorn or dragon powers though, and definitely nothing that would let her catch up to any wily fuckers running around. So yeah, she definitely lost the sniper completely, despite all her neat tricks, and she also had to deal with a whole lot more goons coming after her all at once. Hell, the plaza she was currently in¨Cbright place, lots of digital lights and advertisements¨Cseemed to be full of a never ending hail of gunfire. Maybe all of them were gathering here¨C Hoo boy, that was a big man. Nimia stared in a fair amount of awe at the absolutely huge mother fucker¨Cdefinitely eight feet, minimum¨Cramming straight off an upper bridge with multiple bodies smashed against his tech-lined riot shield, his jets burning with blue flames as he flew through the air like a fucking majestic eagle. Up until gravity decided to cut in with a sternly worded admonition and the armored fucker full on flipped in the air, using his jets to boost him further, and swung his spear¨Cokay, she knew weapons, she looked this up...fangtian ji? A crescent-moon halberd?¨Cinwards, flipping it underhand and driving its sharp point straight through one of the poor bastards staring in awe. Which, right, bad thing to do in the middle of battle. Still, Nimia couldn¡¯t help but watch as the black-armored spearman swung his weapon¨Cits head also glowing the vibrant blue of energy blades¨Cout again, tossing the ruined corpse aside and bisecting a good amount of mook in the process. The conflict stilled to a halt as steam erupted from Cheol-Su Hyeon¡¯s bulky, pitch-black mech armor, intricately carved patterns tracing across the steel with dark silver lines, including the hangul symbol for water on the forehead of his helm, itself a solid thing with three black visors splitting it horizontally. And his head turned straight towards Nimia, locking eyes with her in an instant. ¡°...Well hey there big boy,¡± she greeted, raising her free hand and ignoring about two dozen gazes snapping towards in her shock. There was another hiss of steam, and Hyeon spoke in an electronically altered voice. ¡°Good day, Maheunhana. I hope you are enjoying Jjigae.¡± ¡°Eh, it¡¯s alright. Pretty lights, interesting people, nice enough. Kinda like the taste, y¡¯know?¡± She grinned under her helmet. ¡°How¡¯s your day going?¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Delightfully. The rabble this year has been giving at least some effort, and I have had a challenge to look forward to as well.¡± His amusement was still obvious through the synth coloring his tone. ¡°It has been quite some time since I faced my direct junior in these rankings. I hope your conduct in battle is better than your etiquette among your seniors.¡± ¡°Oh right, I was supposed to let you talk first. My bad. But hey, promise, I¡¯ll be a lot better in a fight here~.¡± Nimia chuckled, then glanced around at the rest of the bozos still gathered, letting the back of her darling¡¯s blade rest on her shoulder. ¡°Any of you fuckers wanna get out of the way, now¡¯s the time. I¡¯d rather have some one on one time with the big guy here, capiche?¡± ¡°Do not worry.¡± Hyeon¡¯s spear vanished in a digital flash as he reached over and tapped at a display on his left wrist. And over two dozen necks snapped at once in one loud CRACK. Nimia blinked, but kept her gaze on Hyeon. He was the dangerous one here. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the standing corpses of each mercenary there, their necks forcibly twisted by their own suit¡¯s servos. ¡°...Neat trick. How¡¯d you do it?¡± Hyeon just chuckled. ¡°Practice. It is quite intriguing. The smaller mobile suits used here have so many deliberate mechanisms to keep the body safe and secure while moving. It is difficult to have a human body move at high speeds without fracturing. Yet those very protections rely on automatic processes that are so very easy to subvert.¡± He inclined his head. ¡°Your suit lacks these safeguards in favor of others. How fortunate for you.¡± One of the corpses flopped forward. Not face first, because his face was backwards. ¡°Yeah, real lucky.¡± Nimia settled into a stance, her sword at the ready. ¡°C¡¯mon, aren¡¯t you going to initiate the bout, senior¨C?¡± Fucker was fast, she¡¯d give him that. Not a lotta honor in him though, or so she noted as she jumped straight to the side to avoid an immediate spear thrust towards her chest, followed up by ducking a horizontal swing and jumping further to avoid his charge. And damn was it a fast charge, barreling straight through a kiosk in a boom of sound. ¡°Aw damn, look what we¡¯ve got here!¡± Why the fuck was Nero talking again? No, never mind, focus. ¡°It looks like we¡¯ve got our title bout already started! And before I could even call the fighters to their corners!¡± Nero¡¯s voice boomed out as Nimia dismissed her Darling¨Cno good for a long range fight, even if the guy was using melee; his spear gave him too much distance and his shield gave him a huge amount of protection that she was pretty sure she couldn¡¯t cut through¨Cand summoned both magnums out of her inventory right as the fucker gave another charge, smashing through bodies with reckless brutality. ¡°Such a shame! People are so impatient these days, always lookin¡¯ for an instant fix¨C¡± Her guns fired in rapid succession as Hyeon blocked the booming bullets with his huge shield, the glowing circuitry barely crackling at the explosive impacts- ¡°¨Cinstead of waiting for all them ¡®proper protocols¡¯ the old-timers harp on about!¡± Nimia rolled into a crouch, turning and firing at Hyeon¡¯s back as the fucker rocketed past, but they all went wide, hitting and bursting more bodies and scenery. ¡°But don¡¯t you worry, dear listeners, watchers, and readers, I¡¯ll still do my job right and exposit like you like~!¡± Then Hyeon was coming around for another pass and she decided to just keep on moving this time, activating the jets in her armor and rushing around the plaza just like the huge bastard. ¡°Just now joinin¡¯ the new plaza race, standin¡¯ at six foot three and weighin¡¯ at around a hundred and ninety-eight pounds¨C¡± Well that was real fucking specific. ¡°¨Cwe got the up-and-comer, the bionic bruiser, the carver from Clearwater, Nimia! Altamiranooooooo~!¡± Nero¡¯s bizarre info aside, keeping pace with Hyeon was harder than she thought it would be. He clearly had a lot of experience with his armor and he knew just how to use those jets of his to maneuver rapidly around the plaza. Sure, she knew how to parkour, but he could just smash through anything in his way, so that wasn¡¯t great, especially since they were getting back out into the street now so there was even more room to maneuver. ¡°And leadin¡¯ the charge at the front of the line, we have one of the most vicious murderers known to the ¡®Far East¡¯, or home if you happen to live there, a real bastard of a soldier and mercenary who butchered his way to the top of every battle royale he could get into, the so-called Black Tortoise of the North, we¡¯ve got Hyeon! Cheol-suuuuuuuuu~!¡± ¡°Okay, but why was his intro less personal and detailed?!¡± Nimia snapped as she dove across a car, firing rapidly and only managing to hit Hyeon¡¯s shield, if the shots didn¡¯t go wide. ¡°You¡¯re kiddin¡¯, right? Sick fucker tortured people for dictators, I ain¡¯t messin¡¯ with that shit.¡± After a beat, Nero snorted. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m foolin¡¯, I¡¯ve seen a hell of a lot worse out there, but trust me when I say that this man¡¯s a prick.¡± ¡°Your opinion is noted, Eodumnim,¡± Hyeon replied, which came as a surprise, though not quite as much as him abruptly turning and rocketing straight for Nimia, ¡°But I shall surpass those you once witnessed!¡± ¡°Sure you will,¡± Nero drawled as Nimia reversed course, ducking a thrust and shooting at her now far-too-close opponent while he kept trying to skewer or slice her with his huge spear, but her shots kept going wide or splashing against his shield and¨C ¡°You and one thousand others.¡± The haft of his spear slammed straight into the side of her head as he twisted and drove it against her helm, the rounded bit at the bottom nearly denting the steel into her skull. Nearly, because Nimia rolled with the impact, letting it launch her off her feet and twisting as she tumbled through the air and across the street. Once she found her feet, she steadied her stance and aimed straight for Hyeon, firing rapidly right at his helm, only for them to splash in bursts of fire against his shield. But that was fine. She fired every single last one of the explosive rounds she had straight at his shield until it sparked and cracked in flashes of blue, and when the last one slammed home, up went the shield in a full explosion, which actually staggered Hyeon, so Nimia took her chance and rocketed straight¨C And her thrusters cut out. Right as she was rushing forward so her momentum was completely fucked and Hyeon recovered faster than her. Her feet were still on the ground as he thrust with his spear, so she could, narrowly, just avoid being skewered by leaping to the side, and then there was just one foot crumpling to the ground. Nimia crashed and rolled across the street, crashing against a bullet-ridden car hard enough to embed in its door, her back against it and her legs splayed out¨Cwell, make that leg. Singular. ¡°...fuck, I¡¯ve only got two of those¡­¡± she muttered¨Cthen screamed when the absolute asshole drove his spear through her remaining knee, ¡°MOTHER FUCKER!¡± ¡°You truly are a vulgar woman,¡± Hyeon said while he twisted his spear into her wound. Nimia grit her teeth and clenched her fists, fighting through the pain that was already being dulled by her suit¡¯s systems. ¡°Gh-hhh...f-fuck you I am! W-What, you wouldn¡¯t curse if some asshole cut your fucking legs off!?¡± ¡°I would not let someone cut off my legs. I am better than that.¡± ¡°Oh sure, sure, of course you fucking are you-¡± He twisted again. ¡°Ghhh, f-f-fucking sadist!¡± ¡°The man on the screen did tell you, Maheunhana. I tortured on behalf of small men that called themselves the leaders of nations. Dissidents, rebels, insurgents, journalists, investigators, whistleblowers, spies, traitors, peasants, insubordinates, enemies. I handled problems on behalf of those who paid me most. If another paid more, the first died screaming.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°I do so enjoy that breed of horror. The realization that their invincibility was illusion. That another stood above them.¡± ¡°Sure, cute, yeah, fantastic-gnnh..if, if you¡¯re such a badass, why the fuck aren¡¯t you higher? Asshol-GAH!¡± There was a very good chance that her right leg might have to be amputated, even if the asshole didn¡¯t cut it off entirely. ¡°Because I am above even these petty rankings. Tell me, before you die, what legends do you know of The First?¡± ¡°...Legends? That¡¯s what you want to talk about?¡± ¡°What else is there in this world? The stories of people, places, nations, they drive existence. So tell me a legend, so I may speak mine.¡± So he was crazy. But he had a spearhead in her leg and she couldn¡¯t get her fucking jets to work, so fuck it. ¡°The First was a soldier from the Old World. When the Corporate Wars came, they fought and defeated a thousand others. The lives of those soldiers bled into The First, and they became immortal. Then, The First established the ranks, to find people who could fight them on even terms¨C¡± He twisted the spear all the way around, shredding her knee and driving a pained howl from her lips. ¡°What trite. He was no soldier, marching to orders. He was a warrior. No, better: a hunter, seeking those of great strength. He fought and killed a thousand men one on one, in individual death matches. He gave no orders, he had no followers. He acted, and He killed, and it was their blood that filled His soul and made Him not merely an immortal, but a god. That is the price of godhood, Maheunhana, and the rankings were no attempt to find equals, but an establishment of hierarchy. None matter, but those willing to spill the blood of others. Lofty ideals, nations, honor, they matter for nothing. It is, in the most even hand, an establishment of power. Only those who strike with their own fists and make others bleed are even capable of holding such a position.¡± ¡°A-And? What the fuck¨CGH-D-DOES THAT MAKE YOU, HUH?! IF YOU¡¯RE SO ABOVE IT!?¡± ¡°A smart man. Let me tell you a simple secret, Maheunhana.¡± He leaned in, a great black mountain looming over her and blocking out all light. ¡°I seek the same position, but not as He did. I will kill a thousand men. Perhaps I already have. I have killed hundreds in my years, but they were not worthy, so I joined these battles to fight warriors, lesser though they may be. And, every so often, one of a rank comes to fight me here. I kill them, and add their soul to my growing godhood. I will, through my own strength, become as God.¡± ¡°...Fuck me, you¡¯re not just a sadistic freak. You¡¯re a zealot.¡± ¡°How kind of you to notice.¡± He yanked his spear up, and then rammed it into the car door behind her, the blades on its sides level with her neck as he slowly moved it closer. ¡°Though, you were not incorrect the first time, pathetic wretch who would call herself my rival. I am, indeed, a sadist, and I shall enjoy killing you, bitch in tiger¡¯s skin.¡± Hm. Welp. Nimia grinned under her helmet, inclining her head and showing her neck to his approaching blade. ¡°See you in Hell, asshole.¡± ¡°No, you will not. For Heaven awaits¨C¡± His head jerked forward, a burst of black metal filling the air before the *CRACK* of a shot echoed, his eyes whirling to look at where the bullet came from before the roar of engines coming back to life caught his attention and Hyeon gagged as a heated blade drove straight into his intestines. In an instant, he was driven straight across the street, Nimia¡¯s legless form looking almost tiny in comparison to his massive armor, which was doing nothing to stop her Darling impaling him right through the abdomen. She howled in defiance as the breath was driven from his lungs and a horrible burning filled his entire being¨C NO! THIS WASN¡¯T HOW HE WOULD¨C He went straight through the side of a building, crashing through it, through mock-ups of people in the form of mannequins in a waiting room, through the front desk, through interior offices, through the opposite wall, all while the jets burned hotter and hotter, blue flames pushing far beyond human safety¨C And out into an open space¨Ca shockingly calm park where false trees lent an unnaturally natural feel¨Cand he finally shoved her off with a sharp palm, knocking the bitch to the ground as he stumbled at his feet, bleeding for the first time in-in¨Chow had she made him¨C He knocked her to the ground, but she wasn¡¯t on the ground¨C There was a rush of engines and he looked up right as she came back down, rage in her eyes as she swung her arms. She crashed to the ground with no way of stopping herself, committing everything to one final move, though that meant nothing to him as the gleam of her blade shone in his eyes. He blinked, beneath his once invincible helm, and stared down at the bloodied, broken, beaten woman that he should have won against. He should have. He would have, he did, so how did¨C Cheol-su stumbled, trying to find his footing. Something was very wrong. He couldn¡¯t feel the left/right half of his body. Why couldn¡¯t¨C This didn¡¯t make sense. He was going to be a god, he¨C Revelation, that was his destiny, his fate, his¨C It could not be for nothing. All his years, all his work¨C Cheol-su stared down at the White Tiger, missing her hind legs, and tried to reconcile what had just happened with what he knew should be. He could feel the blood leaking down his face, his chest, his crotch, his¨C His shell was invincible. He was the Black Tortoise. He was to be a god. He¨C Why could he see two different¨C Metal did not beat Water, Metal collected Water, propagated, generated, he won, it was his victory¨C Something intervened¨C ¡°Bleckh¡­?¡± Cheol-su managed to get out through his split tongue, genuinely aghast and completely confused. Then one leg gave out, and half his body pitched backwards, and landed with a crash. How strange. His shell was open. Nimia let out an exhausted, exasperated sigh as she rolled onto her back, and looked back at the¡­ ¡°...Y¡¯know, I once heard a man without honor was half a man. Didn¡¯t think it was literal.¡± There was a spray of blood as the standing half finally registered it was dead, and then it too dropped, and Nimia felt a familiar burn at her neck.
41 -> 40
¡°AND WE HAVE A WINNER! Though it was kinda lame.¡± ¡°Wh-HEY! FUCK YOU!¡± Nimia shouted up at the screens overhead, flipping off Nero¡¯s unamused face. ¡°What? I tells it as I sees it, and that one sucked, Nimmy Nims. Sudden assists and bursts of luck don¡¯t make for good endin¡¯s, y¡¯know what I mean? ¡°Still! I still won!¡± ¡°And? How y¡¯win matters just as much! Or did y¡¯not learn that lesson from turtleman down there?¡± Nimia grumbled, huffing, then paused at a pair of footsteps approaching. ¡°...Huh. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d get down here so quick.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t notice the grapple I¡¯ve been using? It makes travel easier, especially when I gotta run from crazy bitches,¡± her least favorite sniper replied in an accent similar to Hyeon¡¯s. ¡°Oi! You shot at me first, you prick!¡± ¡°And? I see crazy bitch falling from the sky, I figure it¡¯s better to get her out of the way early, maybe score that rank thing.¡± He stood over her, his blue armor, plated with orange in a few places, noticeably cracked and burned around his helmet. ¡°Then you shoot me, and it became a pride thing.¡± ¡°Pff, pussy can¡¯t even take one measly explosive round¡­¡± ¡°Not all of us are freaks of nature. Some just want to win money. Speaking of¨C¡± And now there was a sniper muzzle pressing against the forehead of her helmet. ¡°You should forfeit now.¡± ¡°...Forfeit? What?¡± ¡°The competition. Hun Zhan, battle royale. You know what you entered, right? You¡¯re the last remaining competitor, aside from me, and I don¡¯t feel like wasting a bullet on someone I just saved.¡± ¡°...¡± She huffed. ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯m honestly tempted to not just to be a dick to you, snipey.¡± ¡°Oh? Then I guess ex-champion will be the one helping you to the medical stations, legless.¡± ¡°...Prick.¡± ¡°Crazy bitch.¡± She glared. He stared impassively back. ¡°...Fiiiiine. I forfeit from the Hoon Jan or whatever.¡± ¡°Hun Zhan. You are doing that deliberately.¡± He still lowered the rifle. ¡°I am. So fuck you.¡± ¡°Nah. I like taller girls.¡± ¡°Excuse you? I¡¯m probably taller outside that fucking suit of yours, jagoff.¡± ¡°No you¡¯re not. I¡¯ve got legs, remember?¡± ¡°...You¡¯re a fucking asshole.¡± ¡°And there we have it!¡± Nero suddenly called out, catching both their attentions, ¡°While our favorite Nimmy might¡¯ve taken the ranking and become our new number Forty, it seems she ain¡¯t winnin¡¯ millions today! That honor goes to our new champ, Wu Jeong-hun, of the...Bia, what¡¯s this say?¡± Bianca repeated something in Han. ¡°...That! That thing, yeah! They also win! Kinda? The rest are dead, so...yeah, whatevs, y¡¯all get the picture. See ya next time!¡± ¡°Annyeong!¡± Bianca...probably echoed. And the newly named Jeong-hun sighed, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. ¡°Well, that was...something.¡± ¡°Not used to the dynamic duo?¡± ¡°No, not in the slightest. They haven¡¯t been in previous competitions.¡± Nimia raised an eyebrow as she sat up, which was a little tricky since she felt pretty off balance. ¡°Oh, you a vet?¡± ¡°...Not in this sense. You do remember that these competitions are normally won by all participants dying aside from the winner?¡± ¡°Hey, ease off, I¡¯m wounded, Probably light-headed from blood loss or something.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not bleeding.¡± ¡°Well yeah, not now. Magic stuff heals me or something.¡± She frowned, glancing at her legs. Or lack thereof. ¡°Well, not every bit of me, apparently.¡± ¡°...That is weird. You people are weird.¡± ¡°Yeah yeah, now c¡¯mon, I just helped you win however much money this was for. The least you could do is give me a l-¡± She blinked as he actually hoisted her up into a bridal carry, holding her surprisingly easily. ¡°...Huh. Yeesh, makin¡¯ a girl feel special here, especially considering I¡¯m all in white.¡± ¡°What? You¡¯re covered in blood and dust.¡± ¡°Yeah, but under this.¡± ¡°...¡± She had the distinct impression he was raising an eyebrow at her. ¡°...Not¨CNo, not, like, under, under, I-You shut up.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t saying anything.¡± ¡°...Carry me to fucking medical or I blow your brains out.¡± ¡°Stop threatening me or I drop you off a bridge,¡± he replied with obvious amusement as he started carrying her through the ruined streets. ¡°Fuck you. I¡¯m fucking immortal, don¡¯t treat me like this.¡± ¡°If this is how immortals are, I¡¯m beginning to think it¡¯s overrated.¡± She huffed irritably, then paused. ¡°Oh, grab my legs on the way.¡± ¡°...What?¡± ¡°Hey, I might be able to reattach them. You never know.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...You have to carry them.¡± ¡°Deal!¡± E1 - Mr. 500
Match 10 #500 Curtis Waller vs #40 Nimia ¡°The White Tiger¡± Altamirano
Roads crossed through all parts of life. Old roads, long roads, lone roads; roads that existed where nations once stood and endured long after they were dead and buried, smothered beneath the ashes they rose from. It made sense, in a way. Nations were complex; roads were simple. People needed roads to travel, so even if a nation died, there was still an incentive to keep the roads maintained. Countries had risen purely out of a need to keep such utilities in working order. The States, the new ones, had such humble beginnings to thank for their status. But none of that mattered to the man driving down one such stately road. It was an old one, an Old World highway, one that survived disasters both natural and man-made. Perhaps some would appreciate the history. He didn¡¯t. He had far different things on his mind as he leaned back on his chopper, his gloved hands gripped tight to the handles. Things involving the large, curved, cleaver-like sword he had strapped to one half of his bike, and the sawn-off shotgun holstered on the other side. The man was tall, about six foot standing, and his muscular chest was bare under the bright, mid-noon sunlight, sweat glistening down his solid pecs and chiseled abs. Oh, and said chest was absolutely covered in blood red numbers. High numbers, from 1,000 on his neck, to the massive 500 taking up most of his upper back; numbers wound down his muscles like written lines, crossing vertically and horizontally in every space they could find, though they seemed to stop at his waistline. Though that might be because he was actually wearing pants. Red leather pants, but pants nonetheless, which matched his gloves and the balaclava covering every part of his head; aside from his eyes, which were concealed behind a pair of yellow goggles. Perhaps he thought he looked cool. Perhaps he didn¡¯t. That was what he wore, and that was what he was wearing when he arrived at a small-time diner in a small-time town. Freedom Star was its name¨Cthe town, not the restaurant¨Cand such a name could only truly belong to a safe little place nestled so deep in civilized territory that it could afford to have no walls surrounding it at all. Meanwhile, The Cocoa Junction¨Cthe restaurant, not the town¨Cwas a cute little place that had a surprising amount of motorcycles parked outside it. It boasted a ¡°50¡¯s¡± style without any indication to which ¡°50¡¯s¡± it meant, but it apparently consisted of some booths spread out around the diner and a long service counter taking up most of the room, with a number of stools set in front of it, occupied by various diner goers, chatting and enjoying their meals. And that was all abruptly cut off by a booted foot kicking in and utterly shattering the glass door. Curtis Waller strode in with all the confidence of a man who knew, without the slightest hint of doubt, that he could take on anyone in that building and win, easily. Including the cowardly bitch he was here to kill. And wouldn¡¯t you know, she was right across from him, still eating a burger as though a man toting a sawn-off shotgun and a cleaver-sword was an average, day to day problem. ¡°You the Fortieth, bitch?¡± ¡°Mm? Yh, ¡®ne sec.¡± She held up a finger, asking him to wait as she continued to chew. Curtis felt his eye twitch as he scowled at her flippancy, before his eyes roamed over the other diner patrons, each staring at him far more warily. Large guys, about his size or slightly shorter, wearing biker leathers. Maybe her gang? It wouldn¡¯t be the first time he ran into some bitch shacking up with a dozen extras looking to ride their coattails. They died just as easy, and these pissants would too. ¡°Mm...damn, these are good¡­never tried a real beef burger before...¡± The bitch swallowed, then glanced at him from over her shoulder. ¡°So, what do you want, number man?¡± ¡°To kill you, you pansy-ass bitch!¡± he snarled back, focusing right back on the cunt stealing his spotlight. She just raised an eyebrow and he seethed. Everything about her was fucking pissing him off, but the casual way she was staring him down really fucking rankled! The short-haired bitch wasn¡¯t even armored or even had a fucking style, she was just lazing in a blue t-shirt and jean shorts! ¡°Why the fuck are you wearing boots when you have fucking robot legs!?¡± She blinked, then glanced down at her white and black cybernetics. ¡°...Because walking around barefoot would be weird? No shoes, no service. Speaking of, wear a shirt, dude.¡± His eye twitched again. ¡°How the fuck did a cheating cunt like you make it to fucking fortieth?¡± That damned eyebrow raised again. ¡°Cheating?¡± Curtis jabbed a thumb at his chest. ¡°You see this?¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°...Your left tit?¡± ¡°MY FUCKING NUMBERS! The numbers I EARNED! Earned by starting at the very fucking TOP! I started at one thousand! I worked my way to five hundred! I¡¯ve killed five hundred motherfuckers all across this shitball of a planet on the way here! SO WHY THE FUCK IS A BITCH LIKE YOU GETTING THIS MUCH ATTENTION?!¡± ¡°...Attention.¡± ¡°YES! WHY ARE YOU GETTING COVERAGE?! THE FUCKING COMMENTARY SHOWS UP FOR YOU, BUT NOT ME!? I WORKED MY FUCKING ASS OFF KILLING THESE STUPID FUCKS, AND THEN SOME CUNT COMES IN AND STEALS THE FUCKING SPOTLIGHT!? YOU DIDN¡¯T EVEN START AT THE TOP! YOU SHOWED UP OUT OF NOWHERE TO STEAL FIFTY, AND IF YOU THINK I¡¯LL LET YOU TAKE FIRST BEFORE ME, YOU¡¯VE GOT ANOTHER FUCKING THING COMING FOR YOU!¡± ¡°...Let? I think you¡¯ll...let me?¡± Curtis missed her tone, but the bikers nearest flinched, suddenly feeling very wary of their new pal they¡¯d been chatting with. And one of them¨Cwhite guy, dark beard, sun glasses, red bandana, black boots, and a leather vest to go with a white shirt and blue jeans¨Cactually stood, nervous. ¡°A-Ah, uh, Nim, uh...think we should go? If this is goin¡¯ where I think it¡¯s goin¡¯.¡± ¡°...Nah, you can stay, Frankie. I think me and Mister Five Hundred need to take a walk.¡± And Curtis¡¯s shotgun was immediately pointed straight at her face, cocked and ready. ¡°Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me where to fucking go!? You think I can¡¯t kill you here and now you fucking cunt?!¡± ¡°Five Hundred.¡± Her eyes were cold. Not an ice blue, but the deep green of a dark ocean. ¡°You want a fight, I¡¯ll give you one. Just head on out. I¡¯ll be following you. Just not here.¡± Her lips twitched, naturally going to a grin. ¡°The milkshakes are too good, and I really don¡¯t wanna ruin anyone¡¯s day. Hell, if you want, why not sit and talk? I can get you one, pay for a meal? Make it something nice.¡± He let her talk. And then he turned the shotgun on that pansy bitch that interrupted¨C There was a sharp crunch, and Curtis couldn¡¯t look, because Nimia Altamirano was standing up, and her hand¨Cthe left one, non-robotic¨Chad crushed the barrel of his shotgun into a chunk of metal, but his eyes were on hers because she was looming over him. Three inches taller, but the difference was very noticeable to everyone looking. ¡°Turn around, and walk out. If you want a fight, I¡¯ll give you one, but if¨C¡± He dropped the gun and swung his sword¨C One hand¨Cthe left one¨Cwas on his neck, squeezing hard enough to put spots in his vision, and the other¨Crobotic¨Chad caught his sword between her fingers and thumb, the blade not hitting her palm. ¡°Third chance, asshole. You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m nice. And I¡¯ll pay for the damages, sorry about this.¡± She wasn¡¯t looking at him as she spoke¨C In a crash of glass, Curtis rolled out on the pavement, up to his feet, shards sticking into his bare chest as he clutched at his neck, coughing and trying to catch his breath. Then his sword landed with a clatter in front of him. ¡°You wanted a fight.¡± Through still spotty vision, he looked up, and she was standing over him, the sun behind her back, casting her in shadow. So why could he see her eyes? ¡°Get up.¡± Curtis stumbled to his feet, fully, his sword clutched in his hands, as he snarled and charged, swinging¨Cand a fist caught him straight in the stomach, driving all the air out of his lungs¨Can elbow smashed his head down into a rising knee and his head snapped back as he collapsed on the ground hard, his back smashing to the burning pavement. ¡°Get up.¡± Coughing, he scrambled up to his feet, trying to breathe¨Che yanked his mask up over his mouth and took in deep breaths, thankful for the oxygen and hating the bitch more than anything else he¡¯d ever known. She stared evenly back, settled in a stance, her fists up. Spit flew as he screamed in rage, rushing with a fury that burned across his whole body and it didn¡¯t stop her fist from smashing up into his jaw and then one to his cheek and one to his temple, jaw, cheek, nose, chin, mouth, cheek hard enough to make him spit blood, back the other way, over and over and over and over until two hands clenched together slammed down hard enough to smash him back into the pavement. His head bounced, flinging shards of goggle lens out, and he heard her step back through the ringing in his ears. It took far too long for everything to stop spinning and buzzing, and then he heard her. ¡°Third life. Get up.¡± He tried. His hands pushed up under him and he tried but his knees gave out and his feet wouldn¡¯t find purchase. He just barely managed to roll over, glass and pavement shredding his back. The sunlight was too damn bright with his goggles broken. ¡°Come on, double-o. You came to me. Oughta mean you were ready for this, yeah?¡± He grit his teeth, blood leaking down his mouth at the bitch¡¯s taunting. ¡°F-F-Fuckin¡¯, l-l-lucky shot-¡± The hammer of a gun pulled back with a far too audible sound, light glinting off the gold. ¡°Nah. This is an easy shot. Not a lucky one. Question is, should I take it?¡± ¡°G-Ghh...y-y-you d-don¡¯t have the balls-¡± ¡°I have a cunt, dumbass, and I guarantee it works better than your limp shit. Also, here¡¯s a tip, junior. When someone has you at gunpoint, you give them a reason to let you go. You don¡¯t say ¡®you won¡¯t do it¡¯, because then this happens.¡± He flinched at the gunshot, his eyes closing involuntarily as gravel kicked up inches from his head. But not in his head. ¡°...f-f-FUCKIN¡¯ KNEW IT YOU CHEATIN¡¯ PUSSY! YOU AIN¡¯T SHIT, AND WHEN I GET UP, I¡¯M GONNA¨C¡± The second shot went straight through his forehead as Nimia sighed, genuinely annoyed. ¡°I really didn¡¯t want to kill anyone today...welp, time to drown my sorrows in more milkshakes.¡± She turned, dismissing her Cleon without a second thought as she muttered to herself. ¡°Seriously, how the fuck does this place get them so good¡­¡± And that was that. No big fanfare, no sudden rise from the dead. Just the bloody corpse of a man given a number of chances that he didn¡¯t take. Maybe there was a tragedy in that; a life cut short, not even halfway to realizing its potential. Or maybe it was earned, by simply being too stubborn and arrogant to follow the path he already chose. A man working from 1,000 to 500 should have been impressive. He wasn¡¯t. But maybe the next one would be. Across and above the Earth, around five hundred people in the settled parts of the system suddenly felt a sharp burn. They weren¡¯t random people, certainly; each one had to meet a proper criteria to be considered, with the first major rule being that they had to be committing a premeditated murder at that exact moment. And as they felt that burn, five hundred individuals heard a voice and saw a man, on their phones, on nearby screens, in their eyes and ears. ¡°Well hey there,¡± he purred, ivory teeth glowing against a pitch-black grin, ¡°Welcome to the Ranks.¡± 39 & 38 - Grizzly and Toro
Match 11: #40 Nimia ¡°The White Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs. #39 Abraham ¡°Grizzly¡± Rivers And #38 Hernan ¡°Toro¡± Salvador
Inventory: LOCKED FOR THE MATCH
¡°EVENIN¡¯ ALL Y¡¯ALL BLOODTHIRSTY MOTHERFUCKERS! HOT DAMN, DO WE HAVE A MATCH FOR YOU TONIGHT!¡± Nero¡¯s voice boomed through the loudspeakers throughout the arena, echoed by the cheers of thousands, ¡°IT¡¯S A BATTLE ONE HALF OF YOU¡¯VE BEEN RARIN¡¯ T¡¯SEE, WHILE THE OTHER HALF HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK IS GOIN¡¯ ON, BUT THAT¡¯S MORE THAN OKAY, CUZ ME AND BIA ARE HERE TO FILL! YOU! IN!¡± ¡°Thanks for the intro sweetie~!¡± Bianca spoke next, her cheer as obvious as the bright smile on her face, displayed on the massive set of screens placed over the four walls of the arena. Each one showed the same thing: Nero and Bianca, sitting side by side at a desk in some type of announcer booth, wearing their typical, professional attire. ¡°And here¡¯s some info for all those who don¡¯t know what exactly is going on for tonight!¡± ¡°EITHER BECAUSE YOU DUMBSHITS ONLY JUST TUNED IN, OR BECAUSE YOU CAN¡¯T REMEMBER SHIT FOR SHIT!¡± ¡°Please excuse Near, he¡¯s a wrestling fan. And that¡¯s our show tonight! Wrestling, that¡¯s the show, that wasn¡¯t a sign off, please do not tune out.¡± ¡°YOU BETTER NOT! WE¡¯VE GOT A SHOW, AND YOU¡¯RE HERE TO WATCH!¡± ¡°Or listen! Or read! Really, there¡¯s plenty of ways to enjoy media, and you should take all of them.¡± ¡°BUT THAT DON¡¯T MATTER NOW, CUZ HERE COMES THE STAR OF OUR SHOW! HERE SHE IS, THE NEWEST RANKED FORTY, A BRUTAL KILLER WHO CAN¡¯T SEEM TO DECIDE IF SHE¡¯S A BRAWLER, SLICER, OR GUNNER, AN ABSOLUTE NOBODY FROM THE STICKS WHO HAS RISEN TO PROMINENCE: THE WHITE TIGER, NIMIA ALTAMIRANO!¡± And the crowd went wild as Bianca sighed beside him. ¡°Sweetie, I¡¯ve been meaning to say, but you really don¡¯t need to shout into the mic.¡± Nero shrugged as the spotlights flashed onto the ring, showing a very tall woman in full, cybernetic armor doing some stretches as she waited for the match. Though said armor was no longer white and orange; instead, she¡¯d gone for a mix of white and black plates. White primarily, black secondarily, which did look a bit more tiger-like. ¡°I know that, I just like shoutin¡¯! It¡¯s fun, gets people HYPED, AMIRIGHT?!¡± The cheers said he was. ¡°And besides, ain¡¯tcha gonna gripe on Nim for not even doin¡¯ the walk up?¡± He glanced away from his partner and towards the viewer. Or more specifically, towards the ring. ¡°Y¡¯know that¡¯s part of this, bitch! Least you can do is play along with the style!¡± ¡°THEY TOLD ME TO GO TO THE RING, I WENT TO THE RING!¡± Nimia shouted back, not even looking up as she kept up with her warm-ups, ¡°IT¡¯S NOT MY FAULT YOU TWO DECIDED TO CHAT INSTEAD OF GIVING ME AN INTRO!¡± ¡°AW FUCK, LOOKS LIKE NIMMY¡¯S GETTIN¡¯ PISSED! SHAME SHE CAN¡¯T GET AT ME, YA STUPID TIGER BITCH! AND ON THAT SUBJECT, Bianca, are we callin¡¯ her tiger or turtle now?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Bianca tilted her head like a confused puppy. ¡°Isn¡¯t it Tortoise?¡± ¡°Ehhh...Look, I don¡¯t know much about ancient Chinese mythology, that¡¯s more your thing-¡± ¡°It is more my interest, yes.¡± ¡°-but Nim won the first title by killin¡¯ Torahiko, so it oughta be she won the second by killin¡¯ Hyeon, yeah?¡± ¡°I follow, yes.¡± ¡°So which takes precedence? I guess tigers¡¯re technically already black ¡®n white, but shouldn¡¯t we add the turtle-¡± ¡°Tortoise.¡± ¡°-in somewhere? Like a sorta hybrid thing?¡± ¡°Hmm...I don¡¯t think there are any tortoise-tiger hybrids out there, as far as I know. I might be wrong, but while there are plenty of mythological beasties based around tiger or tortoises, I can¡¯t think of any that combine the two!¡± ¡°Well damn, didn¡¯t expect that! Dammit writers, get on that shit! That¡¯s an easy monster there, just give it a fuckin¡¯ name!¡± Nimia sighed, glancing up at the screen again. ¡°Are you two done¨C?¡± ¡°GOT IT! Nimia Altamirano, the Shelled Tiger!¡± Bianca beamed and clapped giddily, ¡°Ooo, nice one Near!¡± ¡°...You dropped both the colors though-¡± ¡°ANYWAYS!¡± And alright, moving along now. ¡°ENOUGH OF THAT SHIT! WE¡¯VE BEEN BLUE-BALLIN¡¯ ALL Y¡¯ALL FOR WAY TOO LONG AND I''M GETTIN¡¯ IMPATIENT, SO LET¡¯S GET THIS GOING! YOU KNOW ¡®EM, YOU LOVE ¡®EM, YOU¡¯LL MISS ¡®EM WHEN THEY¡¯RE GONE, IT¡¯S THE DYNAMIC DUO THEMSELVES, GRIZZLYYYYY AND TOROOOOO!¡± And right on cue, a massive steel cage dropped down from the ceiling, setting in around the ring. It was open to the sky, and two men stood atop it, each in one corner, one to the left and one to the right. Both men stood two inches taller than Nimia¨Cor at least they would once they were on the same level as her¨Cand both were clad head to toe in cybernetic armor. Though clad wasn¡¯t the right word. It would be more accurate to say that both men were their armor. They were cyborgs, to sum it up. The man on the left suddenly jumped from his post and landed with a hard boom on one knee, standing slowly to loom over Nimia in the center of the ring. He was big, broad, and muscular as fuck, with absolutely huge pecs and abs that were covered in forest camo-colored metal, designed to mimic the muscles of a hefty dude. So basically huge and bulky, but in a bionic way. Most of his body was composed of that same camo-colored metal, with only a few sparse gaps at the joints showing a sort of jet-black ¡°skin¡±. More interesting than that though, was the fact that his head was shaped like a bear¡¯s, if a bear was made of green and brown metal in varying shades and had a metal grill for a mouth. ¡°Welcome to the ring, Tiger. You¡¯re outta your weight class.¡± Nimia tilted her head, since she knew the guy couldn¡¯t see her grin. ¡°Thanks for having me, Grizzly. And I figured. Can¡¯t progress unless I¡¯m willing to punch up though.¡± ¡°Ha! Good point, real good point! Almost gonna be a shame to tear you down, rookie. But what kinda man would I be if I didn¡¯t give a challenger a fair fight?¡± Grizz spread his arms wide, his deep voice booming out as he looked out the crowd. ¡°And what kinda fighter would I be if I didn¡¯t give my people a good show!?¡± The cheers of the crowd crashed over them like a dropped plane, erupting in a fireball of excited anticipation. ¡°Sounds good to me. You first, then your buddy?¡± ¡°In a sense. It¡¯s more a tag-team match than a straight sequential one-to-one. Shame is, Toro there won¡¯t even get a chance at you.¡± Grizzly jerked a thumb at himself, pressing it to his chest. ¡°I¡¯ll be puttin¡¯ you down fast here.¡± She smirked. ¡°I thought you wanted to give the crowd a show?¡± ¡°Oh sure, they¡¯ll be getting one. A public execution is a show, ain¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Good point. YO NERO! YOU WANNA START THIS OR WHAT?¡± ¡°Jeez, we didn¡¯t even get to describing Toro yet, gettin¡¯ damn impatient here¡­¡± Nero sighed, then immediately smiled wide, showing all his bright white teeth. ¡°BUT FUCK IT! LET¡¯S GET IT ON!¡± And Toro bit back a laugh as Nimia¡¯s clenched fist immediately smashed into Grizzly¡¯s face. It wouldn¡¯t do to ruin the show; a comedian that cackled at his own jokes lost the audience. Still, his partner had rolled with the blow and was now taking a barrage of hard punches that would have cracked a normal man¡¯s jaw. But neither of them were normal men now. His own body proved that. Toro was a crimson minotaur furnished with golden lines, his body composed of metal and synthetic flesh much the same as his ursine partner. In many ways, he looked to be a superhero, standing at the same height as his fellow, yet more lean in his muscles; proud and tall, with his arms crossed over a crimson chest, a scarlet cape draped over his right shoulder. His golden horns stood proud too, casting a radiant light over his body. He had once been a man; strong on his own, yet not enough to be the best. His dreams of being as such had faded with the years, smothered by the cold hands of reality gripped around his metal throat, but he had his place and quite enjoyed it. So this challenge was intriguing. It had been a very long time since he¡¯d seen someone force Grizzly back. But the Tiger¡¯s swipes could not pierce Grizzly¡¯s bulk, and she¡¯d failed to realize he was taking her blows because it was his pride to do so. She wasn¡¯t staggering him. A professional took every strike and blow that came his way and then stood strong regardless, and his counter blow¨Ca strong lariat¨Cknocked her flat and let him grab her hips. In a display of impressive strength, Grizzly lifted her high and slammed her back down to a round of cheers. Toro could finish her right then and there. An elbow drop while she was still dazed would crush her skull in an instant. But it wasn¡¯t his turn, and Grizzly was already lifting her again, higher this time, and twisting his grip to change her position, putting her legs up and her head down. One drop, and she would die¨CReading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. There was a loud clang as Tiger drove her fists like a hammer into his crotch. He hadn¡¯t thought to bar her arms, silly mistake. Also rude of her, but then this was a deathmatch and she wasn¡¯t a professional, so there was that. They¡¯d had their genitals removed some time ago, but the pelvis still connected right to the legs, so while it wasn¡¯t a crippling move, Grizzly grunted, his legs shaking¨Cand she drove both her hands into his thighs in sharp backhands, breaking his stance and costing him his balance. They still had instinct, and Grizzly¡¯s told him to loosen his grip to break his own fall, and Tiger used that opportunity to drive her foot into his face. He dropped her and she rolled to her feet right as Toro dove from his post in a dropkick straight to her face. Nimia went flying back and crashed into the cage wall in a burst of electricity that sent her blasted back into the ring, stars in her eyes and warning signals in her visor as she pushed to her feet. ¡°Tag in.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t exactly leave now that you¡¯re in. Was I doing that bad?¡± Grizzly asked, glancing to his partner. Toro shrugged, loosening his cape and tossing it to burn away completely once it touched the fence, now baring the mix of gold and red that covered his well-defined chest. ¡°Not precisely. I just got too excited.¡± ¡°Heh. Fair enough.¡± Grizzly cracked his neck, as though that would do a thing, and stared down Nimia as she climbed to her feet. ¡°Alright alright alright, double teaming, fine, fair, let¡¯s do this.¡± ¡°No no, don¡¯t mistake me, little tiger,¡± Toro chided, wagging a finger, ¡°This is still a tag match. I plan to kill you. Grizzly will wait.¡± ¡°...Bullshit he will. You two are willing to jump in whenever, aren¡¯t you? So don¡¯t bullshit me, bull-man.¡± ¡°Oh ho ho! You certainly show a strong will, little tiger.¡± He lowered his head and let his eyes glow redder. ¡°I hope it won¡¯t break.¡± His jets ignited and he went rocketing forward in a telegraphed clothesline that she ducked in time for him to whirl and aim an elbow strike at her head, blocked with an arm but still sending her back, a growl slipping from her lips before Toro nearly caught her with a double sledge. She grit her teeth and tried going¨Cand her offense was immediately cut off as Toro charged forward from his crouched position, his horns nearly goring her before she grabbed them and forced his head up and he wrapped his arms tight around her¨Cironically, in a bearhug¨Cand squeezed hard enough to drive the air from her lungs¨CShe drew her arms back and slammed her palms against the sides of his head hard, the type of clap that would disorient anyone. If they weren¡¯t a cyborg. So that didn¡¯t work and wow he was coming really close to cracking her spine so her second plan went right for grabbing his horns and twisting as hard as she could, a move nearly ripped his head to the side, but his neck was strong and he was pulling it back, lifting her up and then a lariat from Grizzly caught her straight in the neck. By all rights, she should¡¯ve been snapped right in half, but she wasn¡¯t. She felt like she had been, but she just barely rolled with it, leaning back in a display of flexibility that saw her snapping back with a great deal of force as she drove her thumbs straight into Toro¡¯s eyes. ¡°HA! AHAHAHAHAHA!¡± Laughter was never a great thing to hear from a guy whose eyes she¡¯d gouged out, but there it was and suddenly she dropped for a moment, his grip changing, and then she was going up as Toro showed off his own flexibility and suplexed her straight into the concrete, which was there instead of a proper mat because safety regulations didn¡¯t apply in deathmatches. And then he was rolling over her and up and down she went again, smashing her head and neck into the concrete again and again as her jets and his own flared and they both did their damnedest overcome in this bullshit struggle¨C She finally managed to break his grip by shoving her arms between his and forcing them to the sides but it was damn near thing and she paid the fucker back by kneeing him straight in the face, and then a hand was around her other ankle and she was slammed straight into the mat again, this time on her back, then lifted up and she blasted off with her jets again before Grizzly could snap her in half on his knee or over his back or whatever the fuck that almost was. She got some air, then flipped and landed, staring at the two fuckers who looked almost undamaged if it weren¡¯t for the bleeding holes in Toro¡¯s head. ¡°Alright, quick question, how the fuck are you seeing?!¡± ¡°Ha! Silly little tiger, did you really think I only had eyes in my head?¡± ¡°...Yes?? What???¡± ¡°Is it really a question you need answered?¡± Grizzly asked. ¡°I...maybe?? No, no, you know what, no, I¡¯ll just...look it up later, whatever.¡± Toro chuckled. ¡°You really do think there will be a later, ah?¡± ¡°Well, assuming you two don¡¯t pull anymore bullshit out...yeah, fuck it, I¡¯ll make that assumption.¡± ¡°That¡¯s stupid of you.¡± And both Grizzly and Toro both rocketed forward, swinging their arms in a double clothesline that she jumped over this time, because fuck staying in place for them to set things up. It earned a laugh from Toro and a growl from Grizzly, so she had at least some inkling she fucked their plans up, but they turned fast and rushed faster, with Grizzly outright jumping at her. So she snapped her leg up in a roundhouse and kicked him in the side of the head, smashed him out of the air and far enough to crash into the cage with a flurry of sparks before she rolled with the momentum and snapped a kick straight into Toro¡¯s face, killing his own momentum and snapping his head back and she slammed her foot down to go into a leap forward, slamming her fists hard into his chest in a flurry of punches, aiming to find one weak point on his body as she drove him back. She needed something before Grizzly got back into this and aiming for his head wasn¡¯t working, so¨C His fist caught her straight under the chin with a hard uppercut that rattled her brain, then he grabbed the top of her head and slammed her face into his knee, followed up by flipping her up onto his back, tossing her, and slamming her down in a back breaker that drove an actual scream of pain from her mouth. ¡°Oooooo, fuck man, that was a brutal back breaker!¡± Nero exclaimed, ¡°Ain¡¯t that kinda shit illegal? Nah, what am talkin¡¯ about, nothin¡¯s illegal, but this probably oughta be!¡± ¡°And why¡¯s that Near?¡± Bianca asked, honestly having a really fun time right now. ¡°Cause that ain¡¯t the finisher here, Bia babe! See, Toro could¡¯a crippled her there, and might¡¯a, we don¡¯t know yet, but! What we do know, or least I do, is that he¡¯s settin¡¯ up for the Bull Horn Toss!¡± ¡°The what?¡± Toro abruptly dropped Nimia to the ground, then grabbed one arm and one leg, yanking her up as the ground cheered, then let her drop for a moment before lifting even harder and letting go, throwing her straight up into the air. ¡°Ohhh, that.¡± ¡°AND NOW THE FOLLOW-UP! HERE COMES THE BEAR CLAW!¡± The ring was a blur of color for Nimia as she flew through the air, but even she noticed the green shape fly up, over her, a massive arm swinging down with its hand formed into a claw¨CAnd everything snapped into clarity as she hung there, upside down in the air, with a palm heading straight for her face with enough force to rip it clean off. And Nimia activated her jets one more time. The ones right at her chest, flipping her over in the air right as claw shot straight past her head. Grizzly¡¯s eyes went small, the green lights dimming in shock, before Nimia flipped, all her jets going to push up as much momentum as she could get as she burst up, twisted and drove the heel of her foot straight into his head. And then it was up to her old pal gravity to bring them both home. There was a massive crash and an eruption of dust as Nimia smashed Grizzly¡¯s head straight into the center of the ring in a huge spray of black blood. In an instant, the solid metal head had been reduced to chunks as her foot crushed it between her sole and the crater now formed in the concrete.
40 -> 39
¡°BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!¡± Toro cackled, clapping his hand enthusiastically as Nimia straightened, the white parts of her armor drenched and dripping with black blood, ¡°FANTASTIC MOVE! HA! Ah, that was beautiful, lady! Gorgeous!¡± ¡°...I just crushed your pal¡¯s head into the concrete. Why¡¯re you laughing?¡± ¡°Because! It was fantastic! Are the concussions getting to you, Miss?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± She wrapped her knuckles on her helmet. ¡°My head¡¯s too hard for that shit. The helmet helps too.¡± ¡°Of course! Yes, perfect sense!¡± ¡°...¡± He didn¡¯t continue. ¡°I still want to know though. This guy¡¯s been your friend for how many years? And I just killed him.¡± ¡°And? We all know how this type of thing goes. You recall, he¡¯s one rank below me, yes? Why do you think that is?¡± She shrugged. ¡°You two partnered up?¡± ¡°Yes, but no! The partnership came after we held our ranks, not before. He worked to where he was, and then he couldn¡¯t beat me. I imagine he hated me, really. I was his eternal roadblock to glory, and it didn¡¯t help that I broke him every time we fought.¡± ¡°You broke him?¡± Toro chuckled, then gestured to himself. ¡°I chose this body. Abraham chose his, but his choices were not ones he would have made had I not blocked his path. Perhaps I¡¯ll do something similar with you? The Tiger and the Bull may work. Though you seem more a turtle at the moment, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a tortoise. And sure, tell you what. You kick my ass, I¡¯ll see what I can do. I¡¯ve already replaced my legs and one of my arms.¡± Nimia patted her legs for emphasis. She was still kinda surprised no one realized she never got the original suit legs fixed and was just going around the ring with her legs bare. Probably helped that she got jets installed so the difference was less obvious. ¡°What¡¯s the rest really worth?¡± ¡°Ha! Such an eager acceptance! Why is that?¡± She shrugged. ¡°If I lose and survive, I might as well see where it takes me. It won¡¯t matter when I win though. It¡¯s just a cute thought, thrown out into the universe to see where it blooms.¡± Toro chuckled again. ¡°Then we have a deal. Survive me, and you¡¯ll become my new partner.¡± He lowered his head, and every jet on his body flared open, filling the air with an orange light as they readied. His busted eye sockets were still dripping with blood. ¡°So come on! One last clash before I see your will break, Altamirano!" He flung his arms out to the sides, spread wide and ready as he gleamed in the light. "BUTCHER OF THE SUN!¡± The ring filled with fire as every rocket at his back activated and Toro rocketed straight at Nimia, who had taken a breath, centered herself, and stood in a solid stance. One foot forward, one foot back, her hand at her side with two fingers extended, the other in front in a vague impression of a block, but that other hand was still important. It was the one that caught Toro¡¯s horn when he jerked his head to skewer her. It still pierced into her chest, but it barely dug in as her right hand shot forward and stabbed straight into his left eye socket. And straight on through, his own momentum driving him forward as her metal fingers pierced deep and right on through whatever brain he had rattling in his steel shell. There was a jerk, a rattle of what might¡¯ve been echoed laughter, and then Nimia shoved the horn out of her chest as Toro¡¯s corpse dropped.
39 -> 38
And then the applause started up, the whole ring cheering and clapping for her victory over the longstanding champs. ¡°AND THERE WE HAVE IT! NIMIA ALTAMIRANO IS OUR WINNER BY DOUBLE KO!¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡®double kill-off¡¯, not double knockout, for those unaware,¡± Bianca explained as Nero applauded too. ¡°Ah who the fuck cares about those people!? Figure out terms on your own, jackasses! And Nimia, stop relying on the healing to win! That was cheapass!¡± ¡°YOU JUST APPLAUDED ME YOU FUCK!¡± she snapped back, flipping off the screen with both hands and earning laughter from the audience, even as most of them started getting up and filtering out, chatting cheerfully about the match or complaining about it. Or complaining about lost bets. Or complaining about really bullshit drink prices, like what the fuck concession stands?? ¡°AND NOW I¡¯M GIVIN¡¯ GOOD LIFE ADVICE! DEAL WITH IT!¡± ¡°Hhhhh¡­¡± Nimia grimaced, then frowned down at the hole in her armor. ¡°Well fuck, I guess I really do need to get this thing fixed...Hey Nero-¡± ¡°No repairs for dumbasses fucking with their equipment.¡± ¡°Well, you can pay for your own repairs, but we¡¯re not going to give you anything.¡± ¡°...Blegh.¡± Nimia slumped, then glanced at the corpses in the ring. Then she considered the corpses in the ring. It¡¯d be fucked up if she tried stealing parts from them, right? Right. Shouldn¡¯t do that. But then again... 37 - The Lucky Man
Match 12: #38 Nimia ¡°The Shelled Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs #37 Omar ¡°The Lucky Man¡± Mernissi
Inventory: 1 Katana - "Darling" (Keeping the name) 2 .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums - "Sonya and Cleon" 1 9mm Semi-Automatic Pistol 67.5 million dollars (Note: Buying a boat barely made a dent)
The pool shimmered in the sunlight, spots of white floating amid the blue water as if replacing missing clouds. It was a wide rectangle in the middle of a stone yard, deep enough to sink a weighted corpse. Long chairs and round tables were set up along its edge, as though mimicking a public resort. But it wasn¡¯t. This was a private place. The private abode of Omar Mernissi. Mister Mernissi reclined in one of those chairs, his head resting on its long cushion as he sipped his sweet drink through a curly straw. The blue in it mimicked the pool, which mimicked the sky. A lemon on its rim was the sun, outside a glass atmosphere, all held in the palm of his hand. Mister Mernissi was a handsome man, blessed with good genes. A large nose and a solid jaw lent an almost heroic look to his tanned features, aided by a firm build constructed by personal trainers and fantastic metabolism. Short, dark, curly hair crowned his head, and a black chevron mustache completed his look. Mister Mernissi dressed well, in his opinion. He wore the finest tailored suits to meetings across this ruined world, yet as he was now, he lounged in a light, grassy green button-up shirt, decorated with yellow lilies, and dark olive shorts. He could swim in them, if he chose. Loose flip flops rested on his feet, and a gold watch clung to his left wrist. Over his dark brown eyes, he wore a pair of sunglasses, their lenses tinged in gold. And behind Mister Mernissi, in his three-story manor, stretching wide across the center of his private island, gunshots were ringing out. He¡¯d always found something oddly charming about the sound. The sharp staccato, born with intent to harm. It was lovely. The shattering of glass was interesting too, and he heard a thump of a body hitting the marble patio. A very solid crunch of bones there. ¡°Lovely view, isn¡¯t it?¡± Mernissi asked, his deep, suave voice echoing out into the now silent air, ¡°Well worth the price.¡± ¡°Eh. Looks tacky to me,¡± Nimia replied as she got off of the bodyguard she¡¯d crushed into the ground, his electrified gauntlets still sparking in the open air as blood seeped into his navy blue suit, ¡°Adding your own private pool when you have a genuinely clear ocean out there seems wasteful.¡± ¡°Heh. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d understand, but there¡¯s a world of difference between swimming in a pool and swimming in the sea.¡± ¡°Course there is. Most seas are full of moss and algae that¡¯ll drag you down if you move through it wrong, not to mention all the hot water fishies. But this looks clean. Purified, right?¡± She stepped closer, next to his chair, and gazed out into the distance, where a ring of towers stretching for miles blocked this section of the world from the toxins out there. ¡°So it seems like a shame not to enjoy it.¡± ¡°You may, if you want. I wouldn¡¯t mind. The pool is closer though.¡± ¡°And still tacky. You have a clean ocean, and you built a pool.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your point? Swimming in a pool and swimming in the ocean are two very different things.¡± ¡°I guess. You¡¯re pretty casual for someone I¡¯m looking to kill.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be? I¡¯m confident in my good fortune.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Your fortune?¡± He looked back at her, and admired the view. Altamirano was far taller than him, but there was an appeal in that too; her legs, both cybernetic, were modeled well, mimicking firm muscles with startling accuracy. Mostly white, in contrast to her darker skin tone, though there were black portions of the plating that made them really pop, defining the shape in ways natural muscle couldn¡¯t. It was a shame he couldn¡¯t see all the way up to where flesh connected to steel, but the jean shorts she wore did hug her hips quite nicely. It was a further shame she wasn¡¯t wearing something more racy than a simple orange t-shirt, tucked into her shorts, but it did fit her well enough, and he could see something of her decently sized chest. Enough that he wanted to see more. Though the rest of her features were still eye-catching. Her face was pretty enough, if roughened from obvious hard living, and she did have quite the startlingly bright green eyes. Mixed-race, perhaps? Another shame was that she kept her black hair cropped so short, but it did have a practical appeal. Especially eye-drawing though was her right arm. He¡¯d seen it before, certainly; she did have televised matches, after all, but there was a new addition up at her shoulder, and quite fortunately, there was a noticeable tear in her shirt there that bared the two little insignias, set there in a mimicry of tattoos: a bear and a bull, one in green camo and one in crimson and gold, respectively. Interesting to see she liked to keep trophies... ¡°You¡¯re dressed awfully casually for someone looking to kill me,¡± he replied with a smile. ¡°You sure take a while to say what you want to say. You also didn¡¯t answer my question.¡± ¡°Humor me. Why the casual wear? Is the thirty-seventh unworthy of your full armor? I saw your match, I know you have a full set of cybernetic plate.¡± He smiled. ¡°Did it receive too much damage in your recent bout?¡± ¡°...yeah, funny thing there. Turns out getting stabbed through the chest isn¡¯t great for armor integrity. Add in every else I put it through and I either had to retire the suit or repair it.¡± ¡°You chose not to?¡± She shrugged, looking sheepish. ¡°Well I would¡¯ve but it kinda¨Cyou don¡¯t need to know this, shut up.¡± ¡°Fair enough. It doesn¡¯t matter how you managed to lose your armor-¡° ¡°I didn¡¯t lose it. If anything, it lost me-¡° ¡°-just that it managed to be missing when you could have used it against me.¡± She blinked. ¡°...Okay, bullshit. My screw ups aren¡¯t your victories. Besides, I still got through all your bodyguards without a scratch on me.¡± ¡°And I get to see your lovely countenance as a result. I count that as a victory.¡± Nimia quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Still going to kill you here. Compliments aren¡¯t preventing that.¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡± He smiled at the gun she now pointed straight between his eyes. ¡°My, you really dislike being tested.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Call it a quirk. It just really pisses me off when some dumbass thinks ¡®you won¡¯t¡¯ is an argument.¡± ¡°So I see. Pull the trigger.¡± The eyebrow raised again. ¡°The fuck is this?¡± ¡°A demonstration. Go ahead. I know you can¡¯t-¡° There was a click. Nimia scowled, and moved to check the jam in her gun when there was a snap and the whole thing collapsed into pieces, disassembled in an instant as its parts somehow moved in just the right ways, leaving her holding the grip as bits of metal rained from the magazine well. ¡°...Right.¡± She sighed, tossed the gun, then swung her hand out, manifesting her darling in her palm as she aimed straight for Mernissi¡¯s neck¨Cand the blade burst like a bubble, flecks of steel and fire and frost swirling before they came back together once it passed his throat. ¡°...What.¡± Mernissi smirked, watching the 38th study her sword in obvious confusion, then frowned when she tried to poke him with the sword, its blade bursting again. ¡°Stop that.¡± ¡°No.¡± She continued poking, pursing her lips at the bizarre reaction. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to touch me with it. I¡¯m surprised it even reformed.¡± He studied the bursting blade, noting the heat and cold wafting from it. ¡°You¡¯ve already met some true monsters in these rankings, haven¡¯t you?¡± ¡°By a few definitions, yeah. Would you count as one of them?¡± ¡°No no, I am merely a very lucky man.¡± Mernissi chuckled. ¡°No true monster here.¡± ¡°Somehow, I doubt that.¡± She grimaced, then dismissed her sword. ¡°You realize I can still punch you to death, right?¡± ¡°Can you?¡± Nimia frowned. She glanced at her arms. Flesh one would probably be fine? ¡°Fair warning, the last person to try beating me to death had a flying trash can rip his head clean from his shoulders.¡± ¡°...¡± Nimia lowered her fists. ¡°Alright, you¡¯re doing a thing here. You wanna explain your weird superpower, or do I need to trial and error it?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? I¡¯m a lucky man.¡± She frowned. ¡°Right. Okay, luck field? Like, anything I try to do that isn¡¯t beneficial to you winds up going horribly wrong because of circumstances I could never see coming, right?¡± ¡°My, aren¡¯t you smart. It only took...oh, four hints?¡± ¡°Yeah yeah, laugh it up fucko. This just means I need to get creative.¡± ¡°No it doesn¡¯t. It means you can¡¯t kill me. Exactly like every other idiot that has tried.¡± He smiled. ¡°It¡¯s best you recognize that now, before you hurt yourself.¡± ¡°Yeah, no, can¡¯t. I¡¯m aiming for the top, so you gotta go.¡± ¡°Do I?¡± Mernissi stood and gestured to his mansion. ¡°I inherited this. A perfect mansion in a pristine sea, inherited from a distant great-uncle I never knew, gained because everyone else in line ahead of me died of accidents. I own majority shares in multiple businesses because my fellow shareholders met with horrific tragedy so I might gain. Men crash so I might soar.¡± ¡°Cool, enjoy the skies then. You haven¡¯t touched the heavens yet, or you wouldn¡¯t be slumming it with the rest of us, Lucky.¡± ¡°Do I need to? Monsters don¡¯t enter heaven, as I¡¯m sure you are aware. Who¡¯s to say anyone does? The First hasn¡¯t been taken by anyone yet. Who¡¯s to say anyone will?¡± Nimia scowled. ¡°So you¡¯re content with this?¡± ¡°Content with a private manor in a clean sea, decent political and economic influence, and immortality? Not at all. I still have aims of my own, just not the same ones as you. Which is why I would like to offer a proposal.¡± Mernissi grinned and flicked his hand, forming a revolver in his grasp. A .357, its barrel, frame, and cylinder were all made of a black metal that was lined with gold designs, while its white grip had a single green ? set in each of its sides. ¡°A wager, let¡¯s call it.¡± ¡°...Honestly, I¡¯m saying yes more out of curiosity for where you¡¯re going with this. The lack of other options is a factor, but eh.¡± ¡°Well good. I would hate to think you feel a sense of being forced into anything. Now, allow me to explain the terms of our wager.¡± He flipped the cylinder open, showing a single bullet in one of its seven chambers. ¡°You¡¯re familiar with Russian Roulette, I assume?¡± ¡°I know more about it than I know about Russ. Y¡¯know most people just call it suicide roulette, right? You don¡¯t need to be fancy.¡± ¡°Heh. But what¡¯s life without a little flourish?¡± He snaps it back into place and spins the chamber, before walking over to one of his round tables, taking a seat at one end and gesturing for Nim to take the other. Which she did, though she also put her feet up on said table and leaned back, balancing on the back two legs. ¡°So, what¡¯s the wager? You seem too into this for it to be just ¡®I get lucky and Miss Thirty-Eight blows her brains out¡¯.¡± ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m not interested in seeing your cute head blown off. That would be a waste. No, my intent here is very different.¡± He gave her an easy smile as he spun the gun on his finger. ¡°I want you to work for me.¡± ¡°...Come again?¡± ¡°Oh I¡¯m sure I will. Later though. You, Miss Thirty-Eight, want to reach the top, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I think I¡¯ve made that clear, Mister Thirty-Seven.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t need to kill me to do that. Skipping numbers is entirely possible. You jumped in at eight-six yourself, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I did, yeah, and I¡¯ve been staying the course since then.¡± ¡°But, again, do you need to? You seek the top. Skipping one rank will just get you all the closer, all without unnecessary bloodshed.¡± Nimia stared at Mernissi. She looked back at the manor, which was partially on fire, then at the bodyguard she crashed into the pavement. She looked back at Mernissi. ¡°You sure about that one?" ¡°Oh don¡¯t mind that. Simple costs of doing business. We¡¯re the ones that matter here, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware.¡± ¡°What was his name?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°The guy in your patio. What was his name?¡± ¡°Saeed something, why?¡± ¡°Saeed. Got it, good to know. Keep going with your shit.¡± He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, dismissing her strange quirks. ¡°Fine. The terms of our game are quite simple. This revolver contains one round. We will take turns aiming it at our head and pulling its trigger. If it fires into your head, you¡¯ll die, so do try to avoid that. Should you survive, you will work for me.¡± ¡°Excuse you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the only reasonable option you have. If you want to continue in your rise through the ranks, you will need to skip me, because I am otherwise insurmountable. Consider this a test of your own luck. The game will go for three rounds with each of us firing, and this revolver has seven chambers. It¡¯s entirely possible that you will never hit the bullet. If you have the luck to achieve that possibility, you¡¯re worthy. Isn¡¯t it simple?¡± ¡°Simple, sure. And what happens if it fires into your head?¡± Mernissi smirked. ¡°It won¡¯t.¡± ¡°...God, the sheer hubris here¡­¡± She sighed, then shrugged, smirking too. ¡°Sure, fuck it, let¡¯s give it a go. Might as well try something new.¡± ¡°Good girl. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have a great time together.¡± He set the revolver down on the table and spun it, its barrel pointing towards Nimia. ¡°Your go.¡± ¡°Kay.¡± She took the gun, pressed it to her temple, and pulled the trigger. A small click echoed out, and she put it back down. ¡°Your go.¡± ¡°My, aren¡¯t you a brave one? I suppose that¡¯s something of a positive in this line of work.¡± He took the revolver, still smirking that same easy, lazy smirk. ¡°Or maybe not. That sort of brainless recklessness gets lesser people killed very easily. They bet everything on their confidence, and fail to realize just how much fortune really is worth. ¡°Do you think the men who rule this world do so through boldness? That bravery gives them the type of economic might that can cow countries? No. Luck makes them. Inheritance, the fortune of birth. No man who rules a thing has done so through bravery. He did it because everything fell perfectly into place for him. The world bent around him not because of his ¡®ambition¡¯ or ¡®drive¡¯, but because he was fortunate. Bravery makes martyrs, and luck makes kings.¡± ¡°So crown yourself, King Omar.¡± His smirk twitched, and he laughed. ¡°You really are an interesting woman. It¡¯s good you met me. I¡¯ll be the one to bring out your true potential, even if you need to be broken down first. Every king needs a queen as his enforcer, after all. It¡¯s just how the game goes.¡± He pressed the revolver to his temple as she snorted, shaking her head. ¡°Y¡¯know, you¡¯re saying a lot about how the lucky rule the world, but money and birth sure as hell don¡¯t stop anyone with a number on their neck and a gun in their hand from marching in and blowing their brains out.¡± ¡°Heh. So you say, but you¡¯ll find reality rarely contorts itself to the whims of murderers. I hold this position through fortune, the same as every other king in the game, and you¡¯ll see quite soon that it¡¯s-¡± To punctuate his statement, intending to finish on ¡°luck alone that wins the day¡±, Mernissi pulled the trigger and shot a small hole through his temple that erupted into a spray of brain and skull as his eyes went wide and his jaw went slack, all his confidence snapping in an instant. ¡°...wha¡­¡±
38 -> 37
Then he dropped, landing beside his pool, his blood leaking out into the clear water and dyeing it red as Nimia stood up, crouched down, and picked up his revolver, checking the chamber. ¡°Huh. Was literally in the second chamber. Y¡¯know, I¡¯d respect your spine if you actually thought you could lose. As is, you¡¯re a moron. Thanks for the gun, and enjoy your crown, King.¡± Nimia gave his wide-eyed corpse a two-fingered salute, dismissed her new revolver into her inventory, and headed over to Saeed¡¯s body, giving him a glance over. ¡°Thanks for the fight, Saeed. Sorry I didn¡¯t get your name first. Hope it goes well on the other side.¡± She nodded to him, then strolled away, whistling a little western tune. It felt fitting, with her new revolver and the sun setting behind her, dyeing the sky a bloody orange. Or maybe that was just the pool. Either one. E2 - The Unfortunate
Match 13 A Slight Detour Starring: Victor Song
¡°Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!¡± Brady shouted with increasing vehemence, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. His rage was understandable, given he was currently only one of two surviving members of his crew. And the second one was slipping fast, blood leaking from a number of holes in his chest. With medical attention, he might survive, but the third man in the van wasn¡¯t bothering. ¡°THIS IS COMPLETELY FUCKED!¡± The third man didn¡¯t reply. He was checking his phone. Scott was slipping quick. Cops that responded way too fast had shot him full of holes as they were driving away. Even decent body armor could go quick, and it wasn¡¯t like they were rich enough to afford personal shields. Even if they could, the cops had responded with a shitload more force than they expected, mostly because- ¡°YOU DIDN¡¯T FUCKING TELL US THAT WAS A FUCKING SCORAVA BANK!¡± ¡°Yes I did,¡± Victor Song replied, not looking away from his phone. He was checking the news. ¡°THE FUCK YOU DID! I HAVEN¡¯T HEARD SHIT!¡± ¡°I told your boss. He didn¡¯t tell you?¡± Brady grit his teeth, glaring straight into the road ahead. Not just to keep an eye on where he was driving, though by this point they were out of the city so it wasn¡¯t like he was in immediate danger of hitting something. Glitter, an entertainment city, somewhere fancy for people to relax and spend some cash; not the kind of place that would have high security banks, or so Brady and most of his colleagues thought. Apparently not Dallas though, because the mother fucker had lied to all of them. ¡°Fucking asshole said this was an easy job, fucking said it would barely raise a FUCKING blip on anyone¡¯s radar, in and out, no shit, just a few fucking¨C¡± Brady snarled, cutting himself off as he kept his eyes straight. Because, as noted previously, he had a very good reason not to look in the dimly lit back of the van. Not just because Scott was bleeding out, mumbling as he slipped in and out of consciousness, but because the guest on the job, the guy who got them the gig, thought he had to bring everyone along. No man left behind. That¡¯s why Dallas¡¯s severed head, still in its tacky hockey mask, was sitting in one of the duffle bags, along with way more heads than Brady was comfortable with. That¡¯s why Zach¡¯s upper half was laying on the floor, his intestines still hanging from where that bitch clawed him open. That¡¯s why...fuck, he didn¡¯t even want to think about the pile that Reece was. ¡°This is so fucked...you know that, don¡¯t you? This is so fucking fucked, it¡¯s not even fucking funny¡­¡± He was starting to grin though, his mouth twitching. ¡°It should¡¯ve been easy. Just an easy fucking bank job, we¡¯ve robbed worse. Fucking casinos, man, fucking¨CYou ever try robbing one of those? Those fucks will gut you to keep their money, but banks, banks are fucking insured, they don¡¯t fucking¨CHalf the time, we don¡¯t even hafta shoot anyone, we just yell at them, maybe break a fucking face, it¡¯s not even¨CWe¡¯ve done fucking jewelry stores and museums! We¡¯ve been good! We¡¯ve been doing good! ¡°So just-One fucking job, and that¡¯s just it!? HOW¡¯S THAT FUCKING FAIR, HUH!? We should¡¯ve been sailing free here, not fucking-I can¡¯t even see the fucking city limits now, we¡¯re so fucking far out...we killed so many fucking cops...Goddammit, were those even cops?! Half of them were wearing red¡­¡± ¡°Hm.¡± ¡°What?! You got some shit to say now, huh!? You fucking-God, you fucked us on purpose, didn¡¯t you!?¡± Victor scrolled on his phone. He knew about the rankings starting again. It was hard to miss. People in the know were already talking about the 1,000 rising all the way up to 500. That type of thing caught attention. ¡°Y-Yeah, yeah, I fucking knew it, I know you did! You fucking-Was this a set up?! HUH?!¡± Mostly because the ranks weren¡¯t exactly an isolated thing. Yes, people spread all over the world for the ranks. Some even went offworld. Hunting those people down could be a very tricky feat, and many of them actively allied with one another. Organizations formed around immortals looking to preserve that eternal life. It wasn¡¯t rare for someone in, say, the 800s to work directly for someone in the 200s. ¡°TALK TO ME! C¡¯MON! YOU GOTTA FUCKING SAY SOMETHING! WAS THIS A FUCKING TRAP!? I-IT¡¯S GOTTA BE! W-Why else...why else¡­¡± The ranks quantified power. Those low in the hierarchy strove to become higher, so while some isolated themselves, others aimed for organization. One could even find cases of a higher rank guarding a lower rank, if just for the benefits they could gain from that person. Such occasions were incredibly rare though. ¡°W-Was this a test? Like...like, shit, man, did you...was this a way of weeding out the best of us? Or...or getting rid of the weak links? I-I mean, you¡¯re one of those...those ranker freaks, so...so you¡¯re probably...¡± But none of that really mattered. Yes, Curtis Waller had made waves by rising up and killing off a number of weaklings, some of whom were liked or disliked, but that paled in comparison to the woman who struck down the 50. The Rankings stretched on so very far, so managing to get that tantalizingly close to the top was quite the feat, and then she¡¯d gone and killed Waller when he came for her. It was a delight. And now Victor had a picture of her face. ¡°Y-Yeah. Yeah, that¡¯s gotta be it, right? People say that shit, that kinda shit about how you¡¯re chosen by fate, so if I lived...if I lived when everyone else didn¡¯t, I-¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen those eyes before.¡± ¡°What? The fuck are you-¡± In one swift move, Victor pulled his uzi from its place on the bench beside him and opened fire. A number of bullets went straight through Brady¡¯s head, the wheel twisted, and the van flipped, wrenching off the side of the road and crashing hard into a ditch in the dirt. This went unnoticed and unremarked by anyone, because they were on a barren road and the police had been called off some time ago. The Scorava Mafia had plans, and they didn¡¯t want any interference. The doors at the back of the tipped van bulged for a moment, then the lower one was kicked straight off its hinges, flying out while the upper retained its connection and even swung back. It didn¡¯t quite bat Victor in the face, but he made a point to glare at the door as he climbed out. His gear was soaked in blood. That wasn¡¯t new. He had it happen a lot. He had some glass in his head, which was a surprise. He didn¡¯t think it would fly all the way to the back, but oh well. He dug it out of his eye, glanced at the impaled eyeball on the shard, and ate it. A new one formed as he chewed, and he blinked his red eyes in the afternoon sun. There was a rattling noise from the van. He glanced back, and let out a rather impressed noise of his own. One of them lived. Not the one he shot, the driver, but one of them. What was his name? ¡°Scot. That was it.¡± He nodded, and looked in at Scot. The man looked broken. That was to be expected, the van had flipped, and they had many unsecured things back there. Funny how he wound up pinned under the bags of money though. Some sort of irony there. Victor didn¡¯t quite get it, but he was pretty sure that was the case. He shrugged, then lifted his phone to his ear as the peach-ish flesh rippled back into place. Victor wasn¡¯t quite caucasian, though he wasn¡¯t quite easian either. His skin was light, and he had average features. Very average. Blond hair, though he kept it mostly shaved. He liked the look, the slight fuzz he¡¯d taken to wearing ever since he went professional. No beard, no wild hair, he was a pro, and a pro ought to call his employer. ¡°Hey boss.¡± ¡°The job¡¯s done then.¡± ¡°Yep. Branch Manager Colebank is dead. I got shot during it though.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°And?¡± ¡°Dallas Haist saw it. I had to cover my tracks.¡± ¡°Hm. Shame, they were useful.¡± Victor grinned as a shiver went down his back. There was no disappointment in Scorava¡¯s cold, even voice. Still. Still. ¡°Yeah. Mostly for diversion though, right? I thought it was an acceptable loss.¡± ¡°It is. They¡¯re all dead then.¡± ¡°Mostly.¡± He glanced to the car. Still some choking. ¡°One¡¯s dying right now.¡± ¡°Playing with your food again?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not gonna eat this one. I don¡¯t know where he¡¯s been.¡± ¡°Cannibalism is bad for you, Victor. It gives you prions.¡± ¡°I¡¯m immortal, sir.¡± ¡°Until you¡¯re not.¡± He shivered again, and his grin got wider. He started undoing the straps to his ballistic vest. It worked decently well, but it wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t get better, and he would be walking for a while out here. ¡°Did you hear about the climbers?¡± ¡°I did. You didn¡¯t?¡± ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t paying attention. I did see the ¡®emperor¡¯ show up on tv though.¡± ¡°You shot the tv.¡± ¡°I shot the tv, yes.¡± ¡°Those cost money.¡± ¡°Mine didn¡¯t,¡± he replied, setting his phone aside as he started pulling off the black sweater he wore under the vest. He tossed it aside, standing bare-chested under the sun as he picked the phone up again. On his left pec, over his heart, there was a red 13. ¡°The five hundred fucked up. Tried to jump ahead too quick.¡± ¡°I know. What are your thoughts on Altamirano?¡± He shrugged, rolling the stiffness and metal out of his shoulders and upper back. ¡°I¡¯ve seen her eyes before.¡± ¡°You have?¡± ¡°Yup. Pretty sure I killed her father.¡± ¡°Hm. Is she after you?¡± ¡°Maybe. Might be fun if she is.¡± ¡°She¡¯ll come for you, for one reason or another. You¡¯re in her way.¡± ¡°So are you, boss.¡± ¡°So are many people.¡± Victor nodded as he kicked off his boots. His feet were fine, as always; all aches and blisters healed even if he ripped them open. ¡°The twenties did good today. Killed two of Haist¡¯s boys before I even got to them. Maybe they¡¯ll put her down?¡± ¡°Maybe. Things are moving. People of importance have been spurred into action by the change in the air." ¡°Heh. So are they ¡®spurring¡¯ your way?¡± ¡°Maybe. It¡¯s been some time since anyone was bold enough.¡± Victor licked his lips as he unzipped his pants. ¡°But you like the idea, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°You mean you do.¡± ¡°What can I say?¡± They dropped, and he stepped out of them as he started to walk, ignoring how the van began to burn. ¡°I like the idea of vengeance. Some brat growing up hating me and coming to put me down...it¡¯s a nice little idea, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°You have more to fear from the fourteenth than the distant thirty-seventh.¡± ¡°By that logic, you oughta be fearing me, boss.¡± ¡°No, I shouldn¡¯t. And you know it.¡± He shivered, even under the warm sunlight. The street was hazy and hot, the asphalt burning the bottom of his feet, loose stones stabbing into his soles. ¡°...You said thirty-seventh? She killed Mernissi?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°...Well shit. Guess she is legit. The cheating fucker was wily.¡± Well, not really. More just arrogant and had a one in a million power to back him. Still. ¡°He was also a major financer and shipping mogul.¡± ¡°Right, connected to the legit sides of The Family. Heh, fuck, alright, that¡¯s interesting. Consequences. Lawton going out shook up the markets, the Death Race circuits and Hun Zhan tournament have been rocked from losing their champs, hell, the fucking pro wrestling world is all in a tizzy over Grizz and Toro going the way of the dodo-¡± ¡°We cloned that one.¡± ¡°Point still stands, boss. Waves are rocking. No death comes without a consequence, somewhere.¡± ¡°I know. You know. Everyone with a mark knows.¡± Arcisio Scorava chuckled into the phone, and Victor couldn¡¯t help but tense. ¡°Violence always returns home, in the end. We gain our immortality through our infamy, yet the specter of death always walks in our trail. It steps where we step, so we never realize we¡¯ve been followed until someone else marked for death ends our reign. So the tenth fears the eleventh, and the eleventh fears the twelfth, extending outward in a line going upwards. Only the climb can save us. Only the First is our way out.¡± ¡°...¡± Victor swallowed, his throat dry. ¡°...Are you...going to climb?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see. I¡¯ll call you again when you reach your destination. Enjoy your time off.¡± The phone went dead. Not just off. It died in Victor¡¯s hand, which prompted a frown from him. ¡°Well shit, there goes my playlist¡­¡± He paused in the road, then looked back at the burning van. He could probably still get a phone from it, if he wanted. Though, considering he last saw that one dude still breathing...yeah, he¡¯d leave it. He didn¡¯t want to spoil the surprise if the poor fuck actually lived and showed up again. Maybe he¡¯d come looking for revenge? Or maybe the thirty-seventh would first. He grinned at the thought, and kept walking, bare under the sun and hard as a rock.
Meanwhile.
Nimia was on a boat. This wasn¡¯t something new; she had to buy a boat to get to Mernissi¡¯s island, so she purchased a small sailboat that she¡¯d learned to pilot in a pretty decent week-long course. It was a nice little thing, easy enough to drive as just one person, and had plenty of room for a nice little bedroom/lounge area under the deck, which was why she was feeling leery about her current situation. Going into dangerous waters was one thing, but she liked her boat. It was good to her, like her motorcycle or her power armor. Which she still needed to find. She didn¡¯t really know how a full suit of armor could just vanish out of her hotel room in a burst of digital whatchamacallits, but her working theory was that Koroshi Industries decided to repo it. Which was annoying. Thankfully, she had an outlet for those frustrations coming up now in the form of multiple boats racing towards her through the murky, black and green waters of the untamed seas, piercing through the humid fog that blocked most of her sight. ¡°ATTENTION VESSEL,¡± one guy shouted into a megaphone, standing on the deck of one of the three gunboats now circling around her ship, ¡°YOU HAVE ENTERED AUGRIN TERRITORY, UNANNOUNCED AND UNINVITED! GUESS WHAT THAT MEANS!¡± Nimia parked her boat. Since it had both a sail and an engine, that involved lowering the sail and turning off the engine, both easy and convenient to do due to automatic systems all on her steering mechanism. Boats. They were neat, and she let that neatness keep her in good humor as she went to the railing and grinned at the dumbass running his stunt. ¡°Rum and coke?¡± ¡°NOPE! IT MEANS YOU AND YOUR PROPERTY ARE NOW FORFEIT, SO EITHER TURN OFF YOUR ENGINE OR-¡± ¡°Already off, bucko!¡± ¡°...¡± The spokesman, his skin a mix of a natural, bronze skin tone and green scales creeping up all around his face¨Csignifying that he, like the other pirates around, happened to be a type of mutant called a Sinen¨Cglanced to his pilot, who shrugged her shoulders back at him. Both of them were wearing skintight, gray wetsuits, covered with various holsters and harnesses, though the spokesman had his hood down, showing some of his shaved head. Both also had goggles on, covering their eyes, though Nimia could still see the moment his confusion turned to cocky assurance. ¡°WELL THANK YOU FOR MAKING THIS EASY THEN! I¡¯M DAMN GLAD WE COULD BE THE ONES TO HELP YOU REALIZE YOUR OBVIOUS DREAM OF BECOMING A SLAVE!¡± ¡°Nah, not into that, sorry.¡± Nimia cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, loosening up a bit as she bent her knees. ¡°Glad you confirmed you¡¯re a piece of shit though.¡± ¡°HEY, FUCK OFF! YOU SEE THE GUNS POINTED-¡± She did. Each boat had a machine gun, mounted to the back, behind the cabin the driver was in. At least one pirate was manning them, and all the other pirates were packing too. Not too much of a problem, Nimia noted as she leapt from her boat and kicked in the thrusters in her legs, launching higher so she could actually reach the nearest boat and drive her heel straight into the spokesman¡¯s head, cracking his skull and sending him crashing to the deck. One swift motion later and she shot straight through the glass and the shocked driver¡¯s head, and then came the proper machine gun fire as the other two ships reacted. Decently quick on the draw there, but not quite enough. They also clearly didn¡¯t give a shit about the other pirates on the boat¨Ctwo from what she could see¨Cconsidering they gunned them down without a second though. Really, it was a good thing she didn¡¯t try to shoot them from her boat. These trigger happy assholes would¡¯ve ventilated the poor thing. As it was, she had a new machine gun to use. Once she tore it from its mount and got up on the roof of the boat, of course, firing straight back at the closest ship and laughing all the while. It was sloppy, firing from the hip atop a sinking ship, but damn if she wasn¡¯t having a good time watching them panic and scramble. ¡°COME ON, ASSHOLES! YOU¡¯VE DONE THIS TO HOW MANY PEOPLE AND YOU CRUMBLE FROM JUST ONE PERSON FIGHTING BACK!?¡± she shouted at them, keeping up the fire as the ammunition belt rattled against the gun¡¯s side. Course, since she ripped it from its foundation, said belt did kinda run out quicker than she would¡¯ve hoped, but that could be handled, particularly since the boat she¡¯d been shooting just erupted into a fireball. Lucky shot hit something important, maybe? But then she had to duck and cover as the other boat started firing again. Clever dicks had gone and flanked her while their buddies soaked up all the bullets. Thing was, she had a good amount of guns on her, and she promptly popped up and shot the remaining driver as he tried to turn, which sent the boat lurching as he slumped on the dashboard, his crewmates yelping around him. Dashboard probably wasn¡¯t the right word, Nimia mused as she entered her new machine gun into her inventory and dismissed her gold magnum, but it worked for the situation. Speaking of, said situation seemed to be changing pretty rapidly, considering she just heard the loud sound of a foghorn. And then came the absolutely massive sight of a titanic tanker ship coming out of the fog. It was huge, a mix of blue on the bottom and black at the top, and had flags hanging off its sides, showing a variety of jolly rogers. Also, heavily modified, with a fuckload of gun ports lining its side and showing off a lotta cannon turrets. Modern piracy required modern thinking, after all. ¡°HA! YOU¡¯RE IN TROUBLE NOW, BI-¡± Nimia casually shot the mouthy pirate on the remaining boat straight through the head, summoning her new revolver for the job, all while she smiled straight up at her newest challenge. It was her lucky day~. 36 - Arlo Monson
Match 14 #37 Nimia ¡°The Shelled Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs. #36 Arlo ¡°Croc¡± Monson
¡°You¡¯re one ballsy bitch, you know that?¡± echoed the voice of the Augrin¡¯s captain, sounding out through loudspeakers going throughout every hall on the ship. Even then, it was partially drowned out by the sound of constant gunfire and choked gasps as Nimia ducked, weaved, and carved her way through the dozens of pirates looking to kill her. For very understandable reasons, mind. ¡°Coming straight to my ship, killing my men¨C¡± She was ranked, which meant killing her gained them immortality; she had a pretty high bounty on her head that went international so any moron could claim it, even hardened sea-raiders; and she¡¯d already killed a few of them when they tried boarding her boat just a little while ago. More once she stole one of their boats and drove it up to the side of the ship while its cannons tried blowing her out of the water. Unfortunately for them, one pirate had the absolutely ingenious idea of opening up one the doors along the tanker¡¯s side to try shooting at her with a grenade launcher. It did sort of work, since the stolen boat was now on fire and sinking into the ocean, but it also gave her a great opportunity to thruster-jump straight to the door, impale the idiot through the gut, and get a decent, six-chamber grenade launcher out of it too, along with a whole lot of grenades from his belt. Which she wasn¡¯t quite willing to use in a confined space, since that tended to result in blowback, but hey, always nice to get new toys. ¡°¨Cand messing up my damn halls. Really, the hell are you thinking?¡± Speaking of, her new revolver was getting some good use as she fired with her right, swinging her darling with her left to bisect one pirate as she fired her last two shots into another two trying to gun her down. Most of the pirates were carrying either assault rifles or smgs, and they really weren¡¯t doing great with them. She went low as bullets raced above her head, before swinging up and cutting straight through a pirate from the groin up, before switching Lucky out for her Cleon and blowing a few heads off. Always good to have back-ups, and now she had three magnums to play with alongside her darling, which was doing a pretty good job all her own at cutting through dumbasses. ¡°You¡¯re really looking to set me back, huh bitch?¡± Arlo Monson¡¯s voice echoed again, deep and irritated. The man himself sat back in his seat at the bridge, scowling. Losing crew wasn¡¯t much of an issue; he only really needed around two dozen of them to actually pilot and maintain the ship, but most of his crew served extra functions, like running raiding parties and cleaning shit up. Granted, it¡¯ll be less mouths to feed, but the dumb fucks were leaving holes in his ship and that was just pissing him off. So he decided to up the ante. And really, with all the automation on the bridge, he didn¡¯t really need anyone other than himself onboard. ¡°First fucker to kill that bitch gets a hundred mil and a month at Pariso. Heavy weapons allowed,¡± he said, tapping away at the console with his metal fingers. Heavy metal shutters started slamming down throughout the ship, centered around Altamirano to cut her off as the smarter fucks on his crew started grabbing the heavy gear from the armory, donning deep blue riot armor and grabbing shit like the grenade launchers and phosphorous shotguns. Plenty of the ship was bound to get fucked, but at least Altamirano would be dead. But she didn¡¯t die. His men knew the ship, knew where to set up ambushes, knew where to actually wait for her to come to them but Arlo¡¯s bribe worked against him as the overconfident morons aimed to be the one to kill her first. They could¡¯ve been careful, could¡¯ve planned things out, but those who considered theft and murder viable career paths usually weren¡¯t the most cautious and considerate of people, and that lack of caution resulted in a good chunk of them getting carved up as they tried to rush Altamirano¡¯s location. The 37th was just using her sword by that point, dismissing her guns and carving a bloody swath through every hall as Monson snarled¨C¡°Fucking morons, get it right! Plan things out, you dumb shits!¡±¨Cand started closing more doors, aiming to cut her off. It was a rat maze, of a sort, where he was setting her down a corridor where some of the actually competent fuckwits managed to set some cover and duck around corners, and when she showed, they all opened fire. A hail of burning shot filled the air, along with regular bullets, and should¡¯ve been more than enough to kill the bitch. Except for the simple fact that there was a storage closet in that hallway. And she ducked in it. ¡°...FUCKING MORONS!¡± Arlo raged over the loudspeakers as Nimia took a breath, tugging at her blood-soaked shirt. ¡°Fuck, this is getting messy...Heh. Been a while since I¡¯ve had to kill this many people in one go. Fucking raiders¡­¡± She sighed, twirling her darling in the dim light. Her blade was so soaked with blood, it looked stained red...or, wait, orange? Nimia blinked, then stared closer at the sword as it kept emanating building heat. ¡°...Huh. See, I knew you could some fire stuff, but this is new...heh. Well. If they wanna burn me, might as well return the favor.¡± Arlo chomped on a cigar, grumbling to himself as he watched the monitors. One of his men had the bright idea to set a charge on the door and just blow Altamirano to pieces then and there. Not the worst idea, except a flaming sword just stabbed straight through the steel and into his head. ¡°...What the fuck¡­¡± Nimia, meanwhile, kicked the door straight off its melting hinges, and promptly ducked an attempt to blow her head off, cutting straight through the offending pirate as the heat ramped up. She was grinning wide, her Darling outright burning as she took up her run again, cleaving through every pirate in her way up to the boss of them all. Took a lot of ducking and dodging though; good news was, the close quarters were working to her advantage, and she was agile as fuck, so literally jumping off the walls was a valid option. It did get a little trickier as she got into more open areas, but she had maneuverability on her side, and honestly, it just felt right using her darling for this. Something about the increasingly hot sword was just singing for pirate blood, and she was fine with obliging. The turrets were a slight problem though. Apparently Arlo outfitted his ship¡¯s halls with automated machine guns, mounted in hidden panels along the ceilings and walls. They made it a little tricky to maneuver, mostly because while she could dodge bullets decently well, the sheer number of bullets firing rapidly at her meant she was probably fucked in direct fire. Humans shooting at her, easy, just anticipate their movements; automated turrets that could adjust on the fly, far trickier. And sure, she could dodge bullets fairly reliably due to a whole lot of augmentations and whatnot, but a massive amount firing at once from multiple angles was going to be a shitshow no matter what. It didn¡¯t help that the turrets didn¡¯t give a shit what they shot so long as they shot her, which was also why a few surviving pirates suddenly felt themselves being ripped open by hails of bullets. Superhuman agility was one thing, but she wasn¡¯t impervious to being shot. Yet. She should work on that...Honestly, she was kinda missing her fancy armor now. Sucks those assholes at Koroshi repo¡¯d it...for now though, the only reasonable thing to do was to completely take back what she thought earlier and summon her newly gained grenade launcher from her inventory. Arlo snarled again as explosions sounded through the ship and camera after camera crashed, most only showing fire and smoke before they went down, though he still got some glimpses of the psycho bitch wrecking his vessel. ¡°...Fuck it. No more games.¡± He flipped some switches, input a password through his Headware, and finally pressed the big purple button that flipped up from a hidden compartment in his console. His ¡°last resort¡± would wipe out whatever crew was left, but fuck it, he was pissed off. Even with this though, there was a good chance the bitch would survive¡­ Arlo stood and walked to his own armory, up in his personal quarters on the bridge. Better to be safe than sorry. Meanwhile, Nimia was discovering the secondary problem of blowing up multiple turrets and setting fire to tight, compact corridors: lots and lots of smoke. ¡°Well this brings back bad memories,¡± she muttered, holding the neck of her shirt over her mouth and nose as she tried to look through the thick smoke, ¡°Mh...right, fuck it, time to go topside. Find stairs, get up, smell the sea breeze, all good.¡± Her course decided, she promptly went looking for said stairs, consequently missing the vents opening around the ship and the lavender mist that began pouring out into the blazing halls. Said mist did have a rather interesting effect on the fire¨Cit was actually starting to smother it with its naturally cooler temperature and lack of consumable oxygen¨Cand a far more horrifying effect on the few still-living pirates clutching their wounds and trying to hide from the burning death stalking their halls. The unfortunate murderers promptly found their lungs filling with painful sores and lesions that only grew worse as they coughed and gagged, trying to find some way to get air into their suddenly blood-filled throats. Nimia, meanwhile, found a gasmask. She pried it from the corpse of one pirate who either thought it looked good, or just wanted to be prepared for whatever he could run into. He clearly didn¡¯t expect his own ship¡¯s turrets to tear holes through his body though, so that preparedness didn¡¯t amount to much. It did, however, give Nimia a way to keep the smoke out amidst all the fire, so that was handy. And, equally conveniently, she found a ladder nearby! So up she went, not even noticing Arlo¡¯s attempt to poison her. The deck of the Augrin was massive, a consequence of it being a huge tanker. Normally, one would go up through the lower parts of the bridge to get out onto it, but there were a few hatches dotted around the deck for those needing to get up quickly, and it was that convenient way up that saw her facing towards the bridge itself, a grin on her face as the sea breeze blew over her blood-soaked body and made her glowing blade steam in the air. ¡°Ah, man, this feels nice. Always did like the ocean...¡± She glanced over to the bridge, then started walking, pretty sure she knew where the big boss of the boat was bound to be. And she was correct, considering she found him standing out on a balcony extending from the bridge. Though it has stairs on it, so maybe it was more of a walkway? Either way, it extended forward, served as a platform for him to stand on, and would probably be good for speeches. ¡°So you made it, bitch.¡± Arlo Monson was a huge man, even up on his balcony. 7ft tall, easy, and broad in a very muscular way, the captain of the Augrin was a full Sinen, which meant he was a straight up crocodile-man; well, not exactly, since he didn¡¯t have an extended snout or maw or anything like that, just a human face covered in scales, though his nose was a pair of nostrils flat against his face instead of a human nose. He was also bald and completely covered in rigid, dark olive-green scales, though it looked like he had robotic hands. Both dark blue, and currently holding onto a massive minigun. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Also of note, he was wearing a ballistics vest like his goons downstairs, and a rather thick long-sleeved shirt and pants, all in dark blues, plus some little aim-assist eyepiece over one of his green eyes. The right one, specifically. ¡°Yup. Gotta say, you did give me a rough go of it. This is probably the most guys I¡¯ve had to kill in...well, actually, about a week, considering Mernissi¡¯s platoon of bodyguards.¡± ¡°I had ninety-eight men on this ship. I have more flying my flag. You barely made a fucking dent, bitch.¡± ¡°Cool! I still killed your dudes and made a whole lot of dents in your ship! Calling this a success so far, asshole!¡± He scowled deep, glaring straight at her. ¡°You think this is a fucking game-¡± ¡°Oh come the fuck on, is that your best comeback? A fucking cliche? C¡¯mon man, you¡¯re a pirate captain! Yar har and fiddley! Gimme your fucking A-game here! Call me a bilgerat or some shit! Or are you just a poser, huh? I¡¯ve barely had my own boat for...what, a month? Let¡¯s see, hired a guy for the trip to Albin, took plenty of ferries and shit in more civilized areas...yeah, point is, I¡¯m pretty sure I know more nautical terms that you, you handless, cockless, croc-faced son of a lily-livered barnacle-ridden menstrual pad!¡± ¡°...¡± Oh that was some fun rage on his face there. Then he raised a hand to his eyepiece, adjusting it for something, and a faint boom echoed out around the front of the ship¨C ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± Arlo was smirking. ¡°...You blew up my fucking boat.¡± ¡°I blew up your fucking boat.¡± ¡°...I liked my boat, asshole.¡± ¡°And I like¨C¡± Her hand whipped up and she shot him straight between the eyes with her seven-shooter, though the bullet bounced off a crackling blue forcefield. ¡°I DON¡¯T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU LIKE!¡± she snapped right back as she charged his position, not quite using her jets yet but making some good distance at a full sprint. Arlo clicked his tongue, annoyed, but still smirked as the barrels on his minigun began to spin. A hail of bullets rocketed down at Nimia as she quickly came to the conclusion that running straight at a guy shooting down at her from an elevated position with a minigun in an open area with no cover was a shitty idea, so now she triggered the jets and blasted straight up into the air, flipping around as Arlo quickly raised his gun and swinging her sword straight down at him. He lifted his minigun straight into her path, using it to block even as her burning sword cut straight through the metal, only to get stuck halfway through. ¡°Ah, shit-¡± And then a metal fist punched her straight in the face, sending her head rocking back and actually knocking a tooth out. ¡°GAH, FUCK! ASSHOLE!¡± Arlo just smirked at her as he tossed his ruined gun to the side, not that she could see it because apparently the big dude decided he needed to double up on the armor. Also, he could apparently carry full power armor in his inventory. Neat to know, scary to see. Nimia took in the sight of the big guy¡¯s deep blue armor as Monson raised a huge, pump-action shotgun, painted a bright blue with shark-teeth along the barrel, along with other modifications. Judging by those mods, which Nimia noted as she ducked a shot, they were made cause a weird, curving quality to the row of bullets, necessitating a much deeper duck as they ¡°bounced¡± over her like a wave. Actually, now that she looked, Monson kinda had more of a shark aesthetic going on in general, funnily enough. His blue armor had little fins up on the top and sides of the helmet, the black visor had triangles set like the toothy maw of a shark; generally very sharky looking. ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯m starting to think you don¡¯t actually go for the crocodile theme at all!¡± ¡°What??¡± He didn¡¯t pause in his shots at all, still trying to blow her apart as she jumped up on the railing and tried to sprint close, narrowly missing her by inches, ¡°I¡¯m not-It¡¯s not a theme! I have scaled skin, how the fuck is that a crocodile theme!?¡± Nimia shrugged as leapt into his guard, delivering a hard cut that made his shield crackle before she ducked under a backhand. ¡°I dunno, I just kinda figured because your nickname is Croc.¡± ¡°What!?¡± Somehow, he sounded more offended. ¡°My fucking title is The Admiral, you stupid bitch!¡± ¡°Well then maybe the fucking thing should¡¯ve said¨C¡±
Match 14 #37 Nimia ¡°The Shelled Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs. #36 Arlo ¡°The Admiral¡± Monson
¡°-instead!¡± ¡°The fuck are you on about-¡± His voice cut out as she kicked him in his shielded face, flipped off of him to land on the balcony proper again, and immediately dove to try to gut the asshole, only for him to kick her in the face instead. More the side of the head, actually, which was why she sent flying off the balcony and rolling onto the deck, spitting out blood and¨C ¡°Oh fuck is that another tooth-¡± And then she was rolling back as he nearly blew her head off, scowling up at the fucker above her. ¡°Goddamn, you¡¯re good at pissing me off...gotta say, you look good on the ground though,¡± Arlo rumbled, tilting his head as his shield flickered into view again, ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to grind you down into-¡± He instinctively flinched back when she shot him in the face, before smirking as his shield held firm over his helmet. ¡°Ha! You¡¯ll need to do better than-¡± His eyes had about half a second to widen as he realized she swapped out her magnum for a grenade launcher, and then everything was smoke and fire. Nimia counted in her head as she fired round after round at the walkway Monson was on, keeping an internal track of just how many 40mm grenades she was firing at the huge asshole and how many she still had on her. It took about three for the balcony to collapse completely, and she adjusted her aim as the big fucker crashed to the ground, snarling in rage. ¡°YOU FUCKING-¡± The next grenade shut that up, and the one after that sent him rocking back even as he tried dodging to the side. Nimia fired the last one in the chamber, then popped it open and started loading as smoke billowed out from the impact¨CThen she twisted to the side as a fucking anchor of all things nearly smashed her head open. The specific type, she would later learn, was an admiralty anchor, but at the moment it just meant there was a huge piece of steel with two curved hook things at the front nearly taking her head off as it was yanked back by a long length of reinforced cord. ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯m almost mad you didn¡¯t do this from the start!¡± she called out, grinning as Monson stepped from the smoke, glaring furiously at her through his cracked visor, ¡°It¡¯s a lot more fitting to the nautical-whoop-!¡± She lurched to the side as it nearly crashed through her, vertical-facing this time, though it twisted to horizontal and nearly caught her in the side when Monson yanked it back. It didn¡¯t though, because she was very good at ducking, something Monson didn¡¯t seem to appreciate. ¡°Tricky bitch,¡± he snarled, but kept his distance. As angry as he was, Arlo was a cautious man who, despite his large size, didn¡¯t like close encounters. Too high risk, especially when someone small turned out to be a hell of a lot stronger than they looked. So he pulled his anchor back and twirled it beside his head, keeping the momentum up as he started walking, aiming to circle Altamirano. And she just grinned and started circling him too, both of them keeping each other in their sights. A breeze blew across the deck, scattering embers as the two continued to pace, the grenade launcher in Nimia¡¯s hands vanishing back into her inventory as she brought her sword back out, signalling her intent to finish this close. Arlo growled at that, checking his own inventory for a moment. He¡¯d taken his shotgun and he still had shells for that, but what the fuck else could he use here? The anchor¡¯s cord was taking up both his hands as he kept it stable and twirling, and the bitch showed she could dodge bullets...fuck it. He just needed the right angle. Nimia¡¯s grin dropped as her foot caught on a raised piece of the ship and her balance was screwed up just enough for him to throw the anchor full force, through it horizontal-facing and straight at the center of her mass, all to guarantee he could smash her fucking chest in¨C And she went with the stumble and dropped completely, her grin back as she went under the anchor, pushing herself up once it was past¨C So he yanked back hard, aiming to slam it into her back¨C And she grabbed the cord. The slight flare of jets was Arlo¡¯s only warning as she used his own strength against him, letting the cord yank her straight off her feet as she let flames burst under her feet, sending her flying through the air right at him. He still had enough time to drop the cord, pull his shotgun in his right hand¨Cno time to use both, the cord was still wrapped around his left¨Cand get off a shot as she twisted in the air and brought her burning sword slicing straight across¨C And he stumbled when she went straight past him¨Chis visor cracked further, making it hard to see¨Cand whirled, aiming to at least blow her head off when it finally clicked that his arm was flying off at the elbow¨C ¡°GAH!¡± he screamed out as she¨Cstill facing the other way¨Cstabbed her sword straight back into his stomach. It went straight through, steaming and sizzling and he could see the fucking bitch smiling¨C Except it wasn¡¯t a smile. He landed with the shell, and under her blood-soaked hair, he could see half her face was a mess of blasted flesh, her cheek ripped open to show a wide grin. ¡°...y-y-you...d-don¡¯t think you fucking won,¡± he snarled, his visor cracking further. He still had his eyepiece though, even if both his arms were off, and he brought up his options with just a thought. ¡°Cause this ship¡¯s goin¡¯ down with its cap-¡± And a bullet blew out his eye. Nimia lowered her revolver from her shoulder, her tongue half-consciously flicking out to lick through where her cheek once was¨C
37 -> 36
¨Cbefore it healed back up. ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, you can heal a shotgun blast to the face, but not missing legs?¡± she grumbled as she stood, yanking her sword back out, ¡°Cheap regenerative bullshit¡­¡± She glanced back at Monson¡¯s corpse as it stood there, a cut carving diagonally through the upper half of his chest. His head was tilted back, blood leaking through his cracked visor and through the ruined mess of glass and intraocular fluid that was his eye. ¡°...My boat now, captain.¡± She glanced down at said boat. ¡°...Though I think I oughta air it out.¡± Then gave herself a sniff. ¡°...And get a shower. Definitely need a shower.¡± And a little while later, Nimia stepped from a steam-filled shower up in the captain¡¯s quarters. Arlo basically set up the bridge to be his own personal area on the ship, putting him naturally above all the pirates he called his subordinates, and decked out his quarters with the coziest amenities he could, including a lush, fully stocked bathroom with a really nice shower and quite fluffy towels, which Nimia started drying herself off with as she headed back into the bedroom/personal office proper. Really, she was kinda surprised no one noticed how much Monson liked sharks sooner. His room was full of posters, decorations, little knick knacks...not all were shark themed, some were just nautical, but there was enough that she was pretty sure the guy would¡¯ve preferred to become a shark man than any sort of crocodile dude. ¡°Ah well. My room now. Might keep some of this stuff though, it¡¯s pretty cute,¡± she muttered to herself as she sat on his bed, his own personal laptop in her lap as she reclined, letting the soft blue blankets cushion her naked body, ¡°Now let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got here¡­¡± Turned out his password was ¡°Monsoon¡±. Pretty sloppy of him to go with something so simple, but maybe he was just genuinely arrogant enough to presume no one could ever get ahold of his stuff? He did have tons of turrets and traps throughout his ship¨Cand she was finding out just how many there were through looking in his files¨Cso maybe it wasn¡¯t completely unfounded. Ah well. What was most interesting to her were a few specific folders on his desktop; one marked ¡°Augrin¡± dealt with all the programs he had linked to running systems on his ship, and from what it looked, he really could¡¯ve run the place all on his own. His crew were just there to take care of the menial stuff and perform raids; no wonder he considered them disposable. Another though, happened to be marked ¡°Competition¡±. And that was very, very interesting, not in the least because it contained information on who Monson, as the biggest pirate boss around, considered legitimate threats to his enterprises. All of them were ranked, and she could spot a few interesting names¨Cparticularly, Jerome Lynch, the raiding piece of shit she killed months ago¨Cbut the main two she was interested in were 35 and 34, the next two she was bound to be facing. Not at the same time, probably, but still, with the opportunity available to her, she might as well do at least a bit of research. And buy armor. Definitely buy armor, because fuck, losing teeth hurt. Even if they did grow back. And probably stock up anti-mutagens, considering what she was reading about 34...hm. Maybe invest in nanomachines? Yeah, at least something to up her immunities, especially if she was going into the overgrowth. She went this long without getting mutated, no need to fuck up the record at this point. Nimia paused, giving a glance to her robotic legs. A good reminder of what a fuck up on her record could entail...Well, she¡¯d keep that in mind. For now, it was time to know her enemy. 35 - Dietrich Sawyer
Match 15 #36 Nimia ¡°The Shelled Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs. #35 Dietrich ¡°Decker¡± Sawyer
Prelude
The summer sun beat down on a lone house out on the prairie. The breeze was gone, leaving only the heat as smoke floated up from its charred remains. The farmhouse nearby was similarly burned, and the fields surrounding it were soaked with blood. Chicken feathers and goat fur littered the ground. On a sign that had marked the ranch, three severed heads hung. One was a goat, hung by its horns. One was a rooster, hung by its beak. And one was a young man, hung by a truck¡¯s hook through his eye. Blood dripped from the hole going out his chin. His once well-kept hair was matted and dirty, hiding the entry wound the bullet had made. A hand pushed out from the burnt wreckage of what was once a two-story home, cozy and cared for. It was a small hand, adolescent, yet littered with deep scrapes. Her nails cracked and bled as she dug her fingers into the dirt and pulled, her feet just barely catching enough purchase to get out. She took a deep, gasping breath, followed by wracking coughs as she continued, pulling and pushing, her hand digging deep into the dead and dry soil, while her bare feet pressed firmly against charred wood. It burnt bad, but she needed to get out. She managed to get far too. Nearly to the sign, dragging and scraping the whole way. She was exhausted, her lungs hurt, and she could barely see through the tears in her eyes, but she wanted to live. Her right arm hung limp at her side, burnt badly and stabbed through with large splinters. It was broken, and she almost wished it would just go numb. As it was, the pain was very difficult to ignore. She made it past the sign, and turned over, panting. She didn¡¯t want to stop, she knew she had to get further, away from the wreckage, away from the blood, but she needed the rest. A drop of blood fell on her face. Seeing Marco didn¡¯t hurt at this point. She¡¯d seen him die. She¡¯d seen what he looked like before he died. By now, the bruises, the split lip, the eye he couldn¡¯t open...they just made her hate. Someone stood over her, blocking the sun. They wore a mask with a long beak, and dark, brown feathers hung over their rough traveler¡¯s clothes. For a moment, she thought they were a vulture. The stranger tilted their head. ¡°Do you want to live?¡± She looked up at the stranger, and moved her mouth. No sound came out, so, despite her protesting neck, she nodded. Their head tilted the other way. ¡°Do you want to kill the men who did this?¡± That time, she nodded far firmer. Despite her exhaustion, she managed a hard, hate-filled glare. Tilted back again. ¡°Do you want to kill the man who ordered this?¡± She nodded yes again. Tilt. ¡°Do you want to kill your brother?¡± Yes. She very much wanted to kill Hector for everything he did. ¡°The man who ordered it is named Sante Brocato. He is a plantation owner. He wanted your land, and he is Ranked. Do you know what that means?¡± ¡°...¡± She nodded. She knew about the damned. ¡°So you know what will happen when you murder a Son of Cain." She didn¡¯t nod. She turned over, pressing her hand to the ground, and pushed herself up. She managed to get her feet under her. She nearly stumbled, but stood. She was far shorter than the stranger, at this point. The baby fat of adolescence hadn¡¯t burnt off yet, but most of her hair had. Her blouse and skirt were burnt, bloodsoaked and ashy, looking almost black in the sunlight. Yet her green eyes were burning with furious determination as they glared into the amber lenses of the stranger. Who simply chuckled. ¡°Then let¡¯s get started.¡±
And now, the Main Event!
Inventory: 1 Katana - "Darling" (Keeping the name) 2 .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums - "Sonya and Cleon" 1 .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver - ¡°Lucky¡± [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting] 1 M60 machine gun 1 MGL (Six-Shot Grenade Launcher) 125.3 million dollars - Note: Armor is expensive, but bounties and loot help a lot.
There was a cacophony as The Rapture rolled into town; the sound of its enormous treads rumbling over the brightly lit streets was drowned out by the song playing out over the speakers spread across the immense land vehicle, but no one could possibly miss its approach. Bright spotlights cut through the night, shining from on top the massive transport and leaving crescents on the clouds overhead. The Rapture was, to describe it simply, a cross between a tank and a parade float, otherwise known as a GTC; it was heavily armored, yet stretched long and covered in numerous platforms where performers played their parts atop the great stage. Neon lights and signs advertising its presence spread across the massive vehicle along with looping tubes filled with luminescent fluids, casting glows in orange, teal, and magenta across the speakers and cages lining its sides. There were three types of people on aboard The Rapture. The first were the dancers in those cages, moving to the beat pulsing out from every speaker. They twirled around poles attached to the ceilings and floors of their cages, accompanying the twang of guitar strings and rhythmic thumping of bass drums with forceful gyration and breaths of fire streaming from the stylized masks on their faces. With red lenses forming circular eyes and sharpened metal to form teeth over their mouths, the dancers looked almost bestial, and savage wasn¡¯t an inaccurate descriptor. All of them had long, wild hair, or failing that, trailing wires decorated to mimic such, and most wore little more than heels, thongs, and fluorescent paint. The second were the bandmates, playing along with the king at the top. Where the dancers stood out in sharp reds and pinks, the bandmates all wore black, highlighted with radioactive green. Their black gas masks had similarly green lenses and were dotted with spikes and fins to emphasize their menace. As they played on guitars, drums, whatever would work, their eyes scanned the streets and buildings, looking close for their target. Jackets and jeans were their style, but they hid the vests underneath. The studded pads at their elbows and knees were more obvious, but that could be more easily discounted as an attempt at style. The third type was a single man, the king of The Rapture, reclining on his throne as he graced the unenlightened with his melody. Half his fingers were at work adjusting records and dials at his armrests and keeping the beat he was tapping his foot along with, while the other half strummed the guitar in his lap, providing the main sound that echoed out through the increasingly lively city. How was that possible? Easy: Dietrich Sawyer had four arms. The two lower were focused on the guitar, while the two upper adjusted everything properly as he slouched on his throne atop the transport, one leg resting on the other. He added his voice to the song with a lazy passion, meaning every word yet so inured to them he couldn¡¯t help but relax. The helmet over his head¨Ccompletely featureless aside from the simple visualizer displaying the beat to his music in sharp teals and magentas on its curved, glass visor¨Cconcealed every expression he could make while letting his voice echo out perfectly, untainted and unmuffled by ambient noise.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The rest of his outfit was somewhere in between the dancers and his bandmates. It was one piece, essentially a skintight, dark blue bodysuit highlighted with neon lines in teal and magenta, though it had gaps all across it, baring patches of his violet chest, his biceps and triceps, his thighs and calves, and definitely emphasizing the bulge at his crotch. Sawyer was a confident man, and one given to showing off to his growing audience. As The Rapture passed through the neon-filled streets of Veracity, people poured out to join in its revels. It was the head of a parade, and here were the bacchanals following in its tracks, some stripping in the streets to match the dancers in their cages, while others simply cheered and drank, drunk on alcohol and atmosphere. Through all the light and sound, a bandmate near the top, holding binoculars instead of playing, went stiff, and barked an order through the radio in her mask. The rumble of The Rapture sounded out loud, but the low roar of a rapidly approaching motorcycle almost cut through the cacophony. Beneath his helm, Sawyer started to grin. Nimia was dressed for the occasion this time. A thick, black jacket went over the ballistics vest covering her chest and matched the padded jeans and steel-toed boots she wore, along with the motorcycle helmet she had on her head. Somehow, the press of bodies detected her approach, and parted before her, cutting a path from one vehicle to the next, and giving the bandmates a better shot. Most dropped or kicked away their instruments in favor of assault rifles, scoped and lined with an acidic green. This was a personal job for them, since their boss was once the 77th, and the Corroders didn¡¯t appreciate being humiliated. They weren¡¯t smart enough to stay away though, and as bullets rained down on the oncoming motorcycle, Sawyer stood from his throne, still bobbing to the beat. His upper arms spread wide, then came together as a rifle of his own formed in his hands, long and steel-gray with lines of deep purple zig-zagging up its metal. He sighted the 36th as his tune turned towards the challenge, and a boom echoed out as a sonic round raced down ahead of her. A second boom echoed as a tire burst and Nimia threw her helmet away, flashing a mad grin in the instant before a deep, blue armor covered her entire body. Engines ignited and she flew with the momentum, twisting and landing in a crouch on The Rapture with a blazing sword in her left hand and a club-marked revolver in her right. Then the revolver snapped up and shot a bandmate through the head, and the violence started again. Steel flashed red and lead flew green as Nimia ducked, weaved, cut and shot, blowing heads from their necks and slicing torsos from their waists. A hard cut bisected a close bandmate, before she ducked low to avoid another sonic shot that blew apart a speaker at the front. She came up with Sonya and Cleon in her hands, firing up at Sawyer, who stood tall regardless, a king at his height. It helped that one bullet that got close pinged off his helm. Invincibility looked good, and he looked damn good as he pulled back the bolt and chambered the next round, still playing all the while. More of The Rapture burst in noise, but Nimia was busy shooting the bandmates now, pulling her 50cal to get the job done quick. She could get to the top once they were done, and there weren¡¯t nearly enough to take her out. One did put up a decent fight though, one with red lines instead of green that came in close and nearly lit her up with an uzi. She kicked a speaker in the way though, knocking the dumb fuck off the float and sending him crashing into the now empty street. Some people had more self-preservation, and she paused as the bandmate near the top¨Cthe one with the binoculars¨Cbarked more orders. Not because Nimia could hear her, but because she could hear the helicopters approaching and the cages unlocking. Sawyer clicked his tongue, a little disappointed as the beasts were let loose from their cages, pulling themselves up in displays of acrobatics as their bodies burst with fur and their nails lengthened to claws. Ah well. That was the risk of having so many guest performers. Nimia wasn¡¯t quite expecting that though, genuinely wasn¡¯t, but fuck it, she could adapt, and out came Lucky and Darling, swinging up to bisect a charging beast and firing shots that ricocheted through throats and into bared chests. Admittedly, the beasts had tough skin, though fire and steel could still sear and cut as easy as ever. She was still surprised one claw swipe actually took a chunk out of her pauldron though; sharper than expected, and yet she was still making her way up. There were more bandmates up top, firing down, but there were dancers getting in the way now. Getting in the way for both sides, so it was even, but Nimia knew how to swing and shoot and it seemed bullets handled the band while a blade could put down the rowdy groupies. Her armor was already drenched with blood as she hopped up to the upper level¨Cmostly because the beasts kept leaping at her and they had a whole hell of a lot of blood in them¨Cand made a run for Sawyer, snapping of shots on the way. Binoculars snarled under her mask, watching her troops getting cut down right in front of her, but fuck it, she was already prepared to put everything on the line for this gig, so she pulled the remote from her belt and slammed the buttons, all while Sawyer laughed as his ride burst with eruptions of acidic explosions. Setting mines wasn¡¯t his first plan, but damn if it wasn¡¯t a pretty one. Not that Nim had it too bad. She sprung for good armor, the type Lawton had, and that meant she could take some corrosion on the way up, slamming her foot into one beast and then blasting her jets as she jumped, flipping to bring her sword¨C Sawyer shot her straight in the chest, the boom echoing again as she flew back, not quite reaching him as she rolled to her feet at the top platform. Binoculars scowled, drawing the magnum at her belt when Sawyer swung out with his guitar and smashed it straight into the side of her head, sending her flying off the side in a burst of wood and strings as he beckoned to his main performer, who scowled at the sight. Chunks of Nimia¡¯s armor were dropping to the ground around her, but she still went in to meet Sawyer¡¯s challenge, cutting at him as he twisted and twirled, using all four of his hands to spin his huge rifle like a baton, batting her hands away from any real damaging cuts or shots while taking swipes with the bayonet at the end. He was playing by this point, showing off for his sponsor. The Fangs, were overhead, ready to clamp their jaws shut on their prey. In practical terms, that meant the sides of their helicopters were opened and the masked raiders up above, wearing little more than paints and bestial accessories much like the volunteers that had joined his performance, were aiming their own rifles down, ready to join in. So Sawyer gave them a lead in by summoning two skorpions in his lower hands, opening fire with the machine pistols and sending Nimia stumbling back before she caught her footing and tried to shoot him in the face. Decent shot, but it bounced off his helmet. Lucky shots didn¡¯t mean shit if she couldn¡¯t get through and he shouted as much as he kept on firing, along with a taunt about her lack of penetration. So she fired for his chest next, aiming for the gaps in his clothes, and he laughed as he bent back, letting them fly over him and blow through his throne, just in time for the first darts to fire down from the choppers. To call them darts was to severely understate just how big the metal points crowned in false-feathers were, since they were designed to pierce through thick hide and natural armor. Nimia took one in her unprotected shoulder and went stiff, before trying to shake it off and charge at Sawyer, only for more to pierce across her front and pump sedatives into her system. She was still damned determined though, and even a cocktail of drugs wouldn¡¯t knock her down easy, especially with the nanites she got, so she pulled her grenade launcher and took some shots at the fuckers up above. She didn¡¯t expect them to outright shoot the grenades out of the air, though the explosions added a fair bit of flair to everything ongoing. Sawyer chuckled at the sight, but his job was done by this point, so he waved at his sponsors. A couple Fangs hopped down, landing behind Nimia with spears in their hands, which they promptly drove into her arms, knocking her flat and pinning her arms to the platform as she screamed out. A higher ranked raider¨Ca Tusk to their Fangs¨Crappelled down beside Sawyer, a harness over her tattooed chest. She pulled a phone from her belt as she nodded to him, confirming his payments with a few presence of her thumb. He grinned at that, ignoring the snarling rage Nimia was devolving into. The Ranks didn¡¯t have rules, but to be so completely fucked over and blindsided like this, even after all her prep...Despite all the sedatives rushing through her, she started pulling forward, her feet trying to find purchase even as one Fang put his foot on her back. He chuckled at the prey¡¯s defiance, and ripped his spear from her left arm, preparing to drive it into her back. His fellow Fang reminded him that they were supposed to keep her alive, but he insisted he could get her somewhere nonlethal¨C In an instant, Nimia ripped her right arm off in a screech of metal, leaving it pinned to the ground as she lurched up, smashing her elbow so hard into the Fang¡¯s temple, his skull shattered into his brain. The second Fang had a second to blink before the revolver formed in her hand blew a hole through and out his eye, before she dismissed it and ripped the spear from the deck. Sawyer turned, his eyes widening as the Fangs reacted, firing more darts straight into Nimia¡¯s chest and finding enough cracks to land every single shot. That didn¡¯t stop her from throwing the spear full force though, creating a boom of sound before it went straight through Sawyer¡¯s helmet. For the briefest moment, he recognized the spearhead smashing into and through his nose, before his head ripped free of his neck in a spray of gore.
36 -> 35
Tusk stared. Soaked with blood and riddled with darts, Nimia breathed heavy, wires hanging from where her right arm was. Still defiant. Then she finally fell forward, crashing facedown into the deck. Tusk walked slowly and nudged the new 35th with her foot. Out cold, but alive. ¡°...Impressive. You¡¯ll make a damn good Beastie.¡± 34 - Elijah Skalk
Match 16 #35 Nimia ¡°The Shelled Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs. #34 Elijah ¡°The Beastmaster¡± Skalk
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Nimia woke from dreams of blood and fire with a start, jerking up on...a floor? A grimy floor, right, kay, and somewhere way too damn loud...seriously, why was there so much screeching? She looked around, frowning at just how damn dark it was too. Was she in some freak¡¯s dungeon? Those topless weirdos with the bodypaint and tranq rifles had managed to knock her out, so clearly they took her alive...wait, topless weirdos, bodypaint, beast masks- ¡°THAT CHEATING FUCKER!¡± she shouted, adding to the cacophony of animalistic screams and squeals all around her, though she settled a second later, still letting out an aggravated huff at Sawyer¡¯s actions Sure, it was a death match, no rules, whatever the fuck. It still rankled that the asshole formerly known as the 35th¨Cand formerly living with a head on his shoulders¨Chad actually fucking called ahead and asked the 34th¡¯s crew for help. Like, fuck, what? How was that even fair? You weren¡¯t supposed to work with the guy right above you! Well, except for when you already had a prior relationship, like the robo siblings, or Grizzly and Toro, or- ¡°Fuck, alright, no, don¡¯t make assumptions, that fucked you over. Calm it down, take some stock,¡± she muttered to herself, finally looking down at- ¡°Why the fuck am I naked.¡± Yeah, she was naked. The place she was in¨Ca cell? No, more like a cage, there were bars on all sides instead of solid walls¨Cwas hot though, so it wasn¡¯t like she was freezing or some shit. Still, alright, apparently the Fangs were thorough in taking everything, those raider fucks. And her arm was gone. Right arm, mechanical arm, slightly less of an issue than if they¡¯d chopped off her remaining one but also decent prosthetics cost a lot, decent doctors cost more, and discrete doctors who could set a gal up with a prosthetic made to murder people cost even more than that! Least she still had her legs, and they seemed fine. If kinda dirty from all the dust around. And there was a collar around her throat. Far more concerning, especially since it seemed mechanical and not like something she should grab at if she didn¡¯t want her head blowing off. ¡°Goddammit, this better not be a bomb collar¡­probably is though¡­¡± She couldn¡¯t seem to access her inventory either, which was especially not great. Either the collar was locking it off, or, far more infuriating, the bastards that grabbed her stole her stuff. Alright, fuck it, what did she know about the Fangs? Fourth biggest raider gang in the West, though the gang itself was officially known as The Maw. It had dealings with the other three, but mostly carved out its own niche in the outlaw world through its use of mutagens, gene mods, and bioweapons. Not the artificial plague kind though, more like the horrifically mutated monstrosity type. Chimeras? She was pretty sure they were called chimeras. Monson¡¯s files had some other stuff on them, like their main base being what used to be an Old World zoo and how the majority of their members were Thirios. Basically people who gene-modded themselves to be part animal, sorta like the mammalian equivalent to Sinen. Though while the Sinen were largely people mutated by circumstance, Thirios were most often willing individuals looking to alter their bodies for one reason or another. Most were just people that liked the idea of having cute animals ears and/or tails, but the type that ran with The Maw were more the ¡°rawr, screech, law of the jungle, survival of the fittest, embrace your inner murderer¡± type. Which, fair, Nimia had embraced her inner murderer long ago, but she also didn¡¯t inject herself with beast drugs to do it. So, yeah, that was what she could figure out through the pain in her head from being drugged and probably dehydrated. Also hungry. ¡°...fuck, somebody better show up soon-¡± ¡°Would you stop fucking talking?! Fuck, my head¡­¡± Oh shit, there was someone in the cage next to her. Social activity! Nimia moved towards the bars of her cage, still keeping low for the moment, and tried to look into the one next to hers, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark as she made a mental note to get a night-vision implant at some point. ¡°Hey? Yo? Other lady?¡± ¡°Ngh, fuck off! I said not to talk!¡± ¡°Yeah, sure, but what¡¯s up? Why¡¯re you in here too?¡± She glanced around again, looking at the other cages filling up the dark, musty room. There were lots of big ones, full of dark shapes growling, roaring, screeching, and screaming, all without any apparent rhyme or reason, like they were all just agitated and trying to find the best way to let it out. ¡°Because of you, dumbass!¡± Wait, what? ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± There was an angry growl from the other cage. ¡°Because you just had to climb the fucking ranks, you fucking-Do you even know who I am!?¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t know if you can tell, but it¡¯s pitch black in here. You could get closer to the bars-¡± She grabbed one of the hands going for her throat, a smirk creeping up her face as she took in the pale hands reaching desperately towards her as she leaned just out of reach. ¡°See, now was that so hard?¡± ¡°Gh-Let go-!¡± Nimia grinned as she stood to her full height, pulling the shorter woman up with her. Now the other hand was on one of the bars as the other woman tried to pull back, cursing under her breath as Nimia tried to get a good look at her in the dark. There seemed to be some tattoos on her arm¡­ ¡°So, let¡¯s try again.¡± Nimia yanked hard, pulling the woman against the bars of her cage and earning a yelp from her as she banged against the steel. A bit closer and she could make out some details, like the nasty bruise that was already at the woman¡¯s left temple and the fact that her hair seemed to be dyed a shade of green. ¡°What¡¯s up with you, weird white woman that wants to kill me?¡± ¡°Ngh-f-fuck off!¡± ¡°Literally can¡¯t at the moment, I¡¯m in a cage. Unless you¡¯re offering, half-pint.¡± ¡°Half-pint!? I¡¯m fucking five foot seven!¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And fuck you! Let go of my wrist already!¡± ¡°Alright.¡± And she let go, not even bothering to hide her smile as the lady jerked back and went off balance, audibly landing on her ass with a yelp. Course, the lady couldn¡¯t see her smile in the dark, so no worries there. ¡°Would you stop fucking grinning!?¡± Or she could. Huh. ¡°You can see me smiling?¡± ¡°Yeah, of course I can. What, you never sprung for better eyes, bitch?¡± ¡°Eh, I like mine as they are. They might not be enhanced, but they work fine.¡± Nimia kept grinning. ¡°So, context clues tell me you really don¡¯t like me! Add in the bruises and the fact that you¡¯re still alive, and I¡¯m gonna guess you were the only one of the Corridors to live through Sawyer¡¯s concert.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Corroders, dumbass! And yeah, I lived, no thanks to you!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know why it would be thanks to me, considering I was pretty fine with killing you at that moment.¡± Nimia crouched, staring where she could see the woman¡¯s yellow eyes glaring back at her. ¡°Now, as for this moment, I¡¯m not sure if I will, so why not try to convince me?¡± The woman stared at her, then grumbled. ¡°...fucking psychopath¡­¡± ¡°Nope, I do have empathy, for the most part. I just-¡± Nimia abruptly shut her eyes as she heard the lights come on all at once, earning an immediate hiss of pain from Greenie who didn¡¯t think to do the same. Slowly, she opened them, letting her eyes adjust properly to the suddenly brightly lit room she was in, and took in the sights. Greenie was still rubbing her eyes¨Capparently fancy cyber eyes don¡¯t help with sudden bright lights¨Cbut Nimia could get a decent look at her now. So, yeah, green hair, loose at the top of her head and shaved on the sides, caucasian skin tone¨Coh she had some cute freckles¨Cand the decently toned and muscular figure of a professional mercenary, albeit pretty bruised at the moment. She had a few tattoos, inked in black up her forearms and at her shoulders; mainly knives, barbed wire, and skulls. Now, as for the room, it was grimy, and the yellow lights illuminating everything didn¡¯t help that impression. There were a whole lot of big monsters in cages around too, all suddenly as quiet as the grave as a dark-skinned woman walked in, her boots echoing in the silence in step with the two other women following her, both lighter-skinned but tanned. And all three were blatantly a part of the fuckers that jumped her back on The Rapture. Tusk cocked her head as she stopped in front of the 35th¡¯s cage, staring down at the supposed threat to her boss through the orange lenses of her bestial mask. Aside from it, she wore tan pants that hung low at her hips and nothing else, proudly displaying the stone gray tattoos scything up her brown skin and toned chest, forming crags down her shoulders and stalactites over her breasts, matching the mountainous stalagmites at her waist. They met together on her back to form a stylized mammoth¡¯s head, glaring back at the Fangs following her¨Cwho dressed similarly, though with shorts instead of pants and body paint instead of tattoos, plus slings for the rifles over their backs¨Cand matching Tusk¡¯s own narrowed brown eyes as she considered the one-armed, naked woman crouching down in her cage. Despite the obvious state of vulnerability she was in though, Nimia Altamirano felt predatory to Tusk. Like the simplest mistake would see a pair of jaws clamped tight around her throat. So it was with an eager grin that she started to speak, ¡°Nice to see you¡¯re up, Sleeping Beauty. I was almost worried I¡¯d have to get Prince to give you a kiss.¡± Altamirano chuckled at that, then stood up. Tusk was a decently tall woman, standing at 5¡¯11¡±, with about an inch added from her steel-toed boots. At 6¡¯3¡±, Nimia was taller. ¡°Which one¡¯s that?¡± Tusk jerked a thumb at Prince¡¯s cage, indicating the broad, reptilian Beastie on all fours, his head ¡°crowned¡± with small, spiky horns. His head was wide and squashed, like someone had put it in a press, and his thin limbs bent awkwardly, as though someone hand shoved extra joints into human arms and legs and then decided to twist every bone in between them. ¡°Hm...Nah, not my type. I wouldn¡¯t mind one from you though, lady who I¡¯m pretty sure was the one that grabbed me. You also strip me, or was that your friends there?¡± Tusk nodded. ¡°I was also the one that collared you. Keep that in mind, by the way.¡± Nimia¡¯s smile twitched as her eyes narrowed. ¡°Good to know. On the subject, is this thing locking down my inventory?¡± ¡°No, though it should cut off the signals you use to activate your legs¡¯ thrusters. I don¡¯t exactly know the science behind it, though I know it has to do with the brain¡¯s electrical signals or something like that. It¡¯s the same type of signal that¡¯s used to activate the digital construction that makes an inventory work.¡± She smirked beneath her mask. ¡°Which is how we fully emptied yours.¡± ¡°Ohhhhh. Oh I see, I getcha, so you fuckers robbed me completely, got it, got it,¡± Nimia replied, nodding along as she kept up her grin, ¡°So what happened to my shit then?¡± ¡°Your money was added directly to our own accounts, while your physical items were distributed evenly among the higher-ranked members of our organization. Some people wanted souvenirs from our newest attraction.¡± ¡°Got it, got it.¡± Nimia kept nodding, then paused. ¡°So? You gonna make me wait any longer, or are we going to get the show going?¡± Tusk raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re awfully enthusiastic for a one-armed woman about to be twisted into a monster.¡± ¡°Open the cage and I¡¯ll show you what I can do with one arm.¡± And at that, one of the Fangs unslung her rifle and shot Nimia in the chest. Nimia stared down at the dart in her tit, then looked at the Fang in question. ¡°...Alright, point made.¡± And she promptly ripped the dart free and threw it full force into the Fang¡¯s throat, sending her to the ground gasping and clutching at punctured hole in her throat as Nimia felt her head swim. There was a bit of yelling, then hands were on her, and some things happened. Shouting, dragging, water, ropes, elevators dinging, and at some point she blinked awake to find herself being carried over Tusk¡¯s shoulder. Which she did admittedly find kind of impressive, since it wasn¡¯t like Nimia was especially light to carry, though she mostly took the opportunity to give a glance at Tusk¡¯s back tattoo¨Cwhich was very easy to look at since the masked woman kept her head shaved. ¡°Huh. An elephant?¡± ¡°A mammoth, actually. You can see the fur, if you look.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, I see it. Shame you have the tail curling to the left instead of going all the way down to your ass though.¡± Speaking of asses, she felt a cloth covering hers. Right, quick stock of herself showed that The Maw members decided to bind her single arm behind her back. Since she didn¡¯t have a second arm to tie it together with, they went with looping the ropes around her chest first, which did feel kinda uncomfortable around her tits. Also, she was now wearing a loincloth, because apparently modesty mattered now. ¡°Also, why an elephant?¡± ¡°Mammoth.¡± ¡°Why not a boar, or a walrus?¡± Nimia continued, ignoring the interruption as she glanced around the hall they were traveling through. The walls were covered in some actually decent and colorful landscapes, images of savannahs teaming with wildlife, all currently in the process of killing something. Predators eating prey, prey goring predators, large animals trampling small ones, the works. ¡°Oh, or a hippo? I think those have tusks.¡± ¡°...They do, though they don¡¯t show as prominently. Are you always this unflappable?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯ve been flapped a few times. I just don¡¯t feel threatened by you in the slightest.¡± ¡°Really now? And why is that?¡± ¡°Aside from the fact that you feel about as threatening to me as Greenie back in her cage, you have to keep me alive because your boss wants me.¡± ¡°You know I could still-¡° ¡°You could, but you won¡¯t. I know your type. Some people will hit you if you tell them they can¡¯t. I¡¯m that type. You aren¡¯t.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m not impulsive?¡± Nimia shrugged. ¡°Basically.¡± Tusk snorted, then set her down in front of a set of double doors. ¡°Most people consider being cautious a positive. Being blunt gets you tranqed. Or ¡®shot in the tit¡¯, as you put it.¡± ¡°Eh. I hear your point, and I¡¯ll take it into consideration. In fact, I¡¯ll put it into practice now, and kindly ask you to open the door for me or else I¡¯m going to kick it off its hinges.¡± That earned another snort, but Tusk did as she asked, letting Nimia stroll into quite the lovely sports lounge, if one was way into taxidermy and trophies. The entire left wall was covered in mounting plaques, holding the heads of various mutated monstrosities¨Cranging from a four-eyed lion with pitch-black fur to some type of blue yak with twelve crystal horns¨Cand trophies of a slightly less macabre nature, like mounted rifles, swords, robotic arms¨CThat was her arm.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Right, her arm was mounted on a wall and there was her Darling literally right on the plaque above it. Good to know where they wound up, now how to¨C ¡°Here she is. My very own thirty-five.¡± Nimia paused, turning to look at the boss of The Maw as he stood at the opposite end of the room, in front of three widescreen TVs, arranged together in an upside-down triangle. Elias Skalk was a big man. That wasn¡¯t unusual for the rankings, though the redheaded Beastmaster, who stood at 6¡¯8¡±, was a sight to see regardless. The man had a veritable mane of fiery orange hair spilling down his bare back, matched by the thick beard, bound with leather belt, hanging down over his heavily muscled chest and against the red, tiger stripe jacket he was wearing. Which might¡¯ve been real tiger fur, now that she looked at it. It had the right texture, if not the color. He was also wearing camo pants, set in a forest green, along with snakeskin boots and leather gloves. He skinned the snake in question and flayed the bull the hide came from. He had nothing to do with the production of the pants, but it was good he was wearing them, otherwise his building anticipation would¡¯ve been even more obvious. ¡°Here I am,¡± Nimia replied with an easy grin, ¡°Though I¡¯m not yours.¡± Elias grinned back, baring sharpened steel teeth. ¡°You are. You¡¯ll realize it soon enough.¡± He glanced past her, to Tusk. ¡°Tusk, sit. A Bitch will be by with a drink.¡± ¡°Of course, boss.¡± Tusk nodded, then did just that while Nimia let her eyes roam from the big bad boss to the row of large windows taking up the right wall from floor to ceiling. They curved slightly, following the curvature of the stadium that the lounge overlooked, where she could see rows of seats full of cheering spectators and a sand-filled pit at its center, where some kind of gold-furred monster was ripping apart a giant silver spider-crab covered with sharp spikes. ¡°It¡¯s a beautiful sight,¡± Elias growled beside her, looping an arm over her shoulders. One shoulder, really, and he was making a point of holding the metallic stump where her arm had been. He didn¡¯t sound angry though, more like his voice was just naturally gravelly. ¡°Two animals, tearing each other apart. There¡¯s nothing more natural than that on the planet.¡± ¡°I could think of a few things. Stuff that isn¡¯t two genetically modified bio-gladiators fighting in an arena for the amusement of an audience. Like trees!¡± ¡°Trees aren¡¯t natural. Robots plant them to alter the world beyond what it should be.¡± A loud, bestial roar punctuated Elias¡¯s inane statement and echoed through the stadium as Prizewinner¨Cits name announced on massive screens across the stadium¨Cthrew its shaggy head back, reared up on its hind legs and spread its arms in a challenge to all that would seek to bring down the golden monster, currently dripping with white blood and chunks of shell. Some needle-sharp spikes were still piercing into the beast¡¯s thick fur, but not deep enough to act as anything more than the annoyance that drove Prizewinner to quite literally tear its opponent to pieces. Long Silver¡¯s gray legs were still twitching nearby, the spiked, crab-like appendages spasming with the last of whatever life remained in them. As for Prizewinner, that particular collared Beastie was something of a cross between a boar, an ape, and a lion. Its black snout extended outward from under a mane of thick, coarse, gold hair, while its chest was broad and bulked with fat from several successful wins. Its arms were almost like a muscular human¡¯s, and ended with black, five-fingered hands possessing retractable claws, while its legs were more similar to a standard lion¡¯s, though far broader to support the beast¡¯s weight. Oh, and it had a bladed tail. Not quite like a scorpion¡¯s, more like someone had attached the head of a glaive to a prehensile, whip-like tail. Nimia took note of all those details, then glanced down at Elias¡¯s belt. There was a revolver handle sticking out of his pants. She knew where her luck had gone. ¡°You¡¯re interested.¡± And Elias thought she was staring at his dick. Fairness to him, the man had a decent bulge there. She still wasn¡¯t into fucking people she was going to kill though. ¡°I¡¯m interested in a few things. Like the voyeurs over here.¡± She walked out of his grip easily, earning a raised eyebrow and an amused grin as she strolled over the monitors in question. The top left displayed a cherry red ? on a blood red background, the top right showed an azure ? on a royal blue background, and the last displayed a pink ? on a magenta background. Each monitor had a small camera set in the top of its frame. ¡°And we¡¯re plenty interested in you, sweetheart~¡± the ? crooned. ¡°Don¡¯t speak for all of us,¡± the ? chastised. The ? said nothing. ¡°Would these three count as your sponsors, Skalk?¡± Nimia asked, keeping her eyes on the monitors. ¡°Cheeky bitch. I can appreciate that. You¡¯re wrong. They¡¯re my partners-¡± ¡°No we¡¯re not,¡± Diamond snapped, audibly irritated. ¡°Aw, don¡¯t be mean to Elly,¡± Heart said, still sounding cheery and amused, ¡°He¡¯s trying~¡± Spade was still silent, so Nimia continued. ¡°That would make you the number Twenty-Three¨C¡± She nodded to the bottom diamond. ¡°¨Cthe number Eighteen¨C¡± Top left heart. ¡°¨Cand the number Fourteen.¡± Top right spade. ¡°Giselle Summerton, head of the second largest raider gang in the West, Paradiso. Vivian LoVullo, head of the first largest raider gang in the West, The Grindhouse. And Omari Rhodes, head of the third largest, Tombstone.¡± ¡°Ooo, you¡¯ve done your homework~¡± LoVullo purred, ¡°Though you left out-¡± ¡°A slaver, an organ thief and drug baron, and a weapons manufacturer. Spreaders of human misery for the sake of profit and three absolute monsters who somehow found enough people that shared in their fucked up worldviews to have their own private armies ranging from sycophants to zealots. In short, the type of people Elias back there wants to be a part of. Hell, I can even see where he can slot in fine for you sick fucks, considering he enslaves people and mutates them into monsters. She directed her gaze at the diamond, since she couldn¡¯t exactly point. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got more than a few freaks who¡¯ll be in the market for that type of thing.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t act like you know what I¡¯m thinking!¡± Summerton snapped as LoVullo tittered, ¡°And quit talking shit! You¡¯re a failed ranker, caged and stripped by your better, so shut the fuck up about ¡®human misery¡¯ or whatever the fuck crusade you think you¡¯re on!¡± ¡°Do you remember Jerome Lynch?¡± The screen flickered, as if surprised. ¡°That thug from Miconti? Who the fuck gives a shit about a dead man?¡± Nimia¡¯s laughter came out like a harsh bark, sending an eager shiver up Skalk¡¯s spine. ¡°Oh you¡¯d be surprised what people are willing to do for dead men, Giselle! Our whole world¡¯s formed by the words and actions of people long dead, with plenty of folks more than willing to act on the behalf of mummified corpses! But that¡¯s not what I mean here. What I mean is that Lynch rented out his thugs to whoever paid most, in between all the raiding and raping and murdering, and a mother fucking prick by the name of Brocato decided to put some on his payroll! Dumb bastards that postured and threatened and got stupid bastards to join up with them with promises of glory of all fucking things. ¡°And those fucks came to my house, my family home for generations, shot my brother right in fucking front of me, cut his head off, and burnt down my fucking house down around my ears! Oh, but I can¡¯t forget them gutting my mother either, all cause she just couldn¡¯t help but shoot the murdering fuck leading the bunch straight in his goddamn dome. And, here¡¯s the thing, I killed every last one of them! The whole fucking gang, I killed them, all six fucking hundred, and I¡¯d do it all again! Her smile was wide and manic as she glared straight at the monitors. ¡°SO THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH PIECES OF SHIT! Because now I can do exactly that, four more fucking times. She stared straight into the Diamond monitor, keeping her eyes on her first prize as she heard Summerton seethe. ¡°So get ready, Giselle, because you¡¯re next after I kill this fuck.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t kill me,¡± Elias retorted, twirling the revolver he¡¯d pulled from his belt. It spun easily around his finger, even in his larger hand. ¡°You lost your luck the instant you challenged me. It¡¯s mine now. Thank you for admitting I¡¯ll work perfectly with the other three card holders. I¡¯ll be lenient.¡± Nimia chuckled as she turned to face Elias. ¡°Sure. Alright. You want a cute, mewling pet, yeah? Someone to rub up against you on lonely nights?¡± ¡°I have that. None of my nights are lonely.¡± His grin was wide and cocky as she started to walk, his eyes tracking her walk along the wall opposite him. He was still near the windows, she was walking near the trophies. ¡°I want a monster out of you. I know you¡¯ll make a good one. You¡¯ve got fire in you.¡± ¡°Heh. Sure. Fire, something like that. Something like that, sure.¡± Her grin was twitching, more angry than amused at this point. He glanced at her sword. She would be going for it first, definitely. Maybe she¡¯d try sticking it in her mouth. He¡¯d like to see that. It would make things more fun¨C ¡°See you.¡± His gaze snapped back at the Spade monitor, his eyes widening for the slightest moment at hearing the cold voice of the Mausoleum, before he had another slight moment where it clicked that Nimia wasn¡¯t actually going for her Darling, she was just getting in position to sprint straight for Elias, jump, and slam both feet straight into his face. His eyes went far wider and his grin dropped into an open-mouthed gasp of genuine shock as she slammed him straight into and then right through the glass of his lounge. Tusk had about a second to realize she should be moving before her boss went flying straight through the shattered window and Nimia went right with him, her feet right on his face as they flew into the open air. It took the crowd a few seconds to realize the odd sound that cut through the cheers and roars was breaking glass. When shards of said glass fell into the crowd and pierced through a few spectator¡¯s skulls, it clicked pretty quickly, though even then, the spectators¨Cmany of whom weren¡¯t even members of the Maw, but merely sponsors of enough influence and/or wealth to earn themselves a seat amid one of the four largest raider gangs in the West¨Cthat weren¡¯t directly in danger had their eyes drawn instead to the two figures flying through the air. It felt like the world had slowed, but things happened quite quickly. Lucky flew from Skalk¡¯s hand and Nimia caught the revolver¡¯s handle in her teeth and Nimia herself started falling away from Skalk as she kicked off his face. Skalk landed straight in the center of the Pit, actually plowing straight into Prizewinner and knocking the chimera of its feet, while Nimia flipped and landed, just barely, on the capped head of one very unfortunate spectator, before springing off it, jumping from spectator to spectator as she made her way from the stands to the field. And if she stepped hard enough to snap necks and crack skulls, well the dumb fucks paid raiders to see some blood and gore. Sure, bloodsports were a thing, but they could at least keep away from the bastards kidnapping people to warp them into monsters¨Cwow, there was a weird feeling of hypocrisy in Nimia¡¯s brain, but she wasn¡¯t sure which part it was. She didn¡¯t kidnap people, just kill people...she did participate in a few bloodsports? But those were to kill ranked people¨C Am I a bad person? she wondered as she landed in the sandy pit of the arena, before leaning next to the large, cracked half of Long Silver nearby and using the broken bits of its shell to start cutting her ropes. ...ehhh, yeah, probably. Do I care though? She watched Prizewinner rapidly shrink back from Elias, the large beast whimpering in fear Skalk pushed himself up from the dirt with an enraged snarl and ripped his filthy jacket off, bearing his mutilated chest. While Tusk had chosen to tattoo her whole upper body, Elias had taken the far more extreme choice of having his history and accomplishments stitched across his bulky chest. Scenes of great monsters and brutalized corpses were inked in black into the red leather directly woven into his flesh, an act that left most of his exposed torso and arms looking flayed. No, I don¡¯t. Not as long as these bastards die too. She nodded to herself, then snapped her remaining arm free of her restraints and let her revolver drop into her freed hand, flipping it up and pointing straight at Skalk as the big man snarled. ¡°Well ain¡¯t this a sight!¡± a familiar voice suddenly echoed through the arena, and Nimia glanced up at the screens surrounding the stadium. The monitors were normally used to show different angles of gruesome fights now displayed a single image: a man made of shadows, smiling wide with pearly-white teeth as his red eyes stared down at the arena. ¡°Two topless murderers about to duke it out in the dust! Classic shit right here, classic shit, the kind deservin¡¯ of a prime time slot!¡± Nero paused for a second, then glanced off-screen. ¡°Is prime time still a thing?¡± ¡°In a sense, yes,¡± came Bianca''s voice, though she wasn''t showing up on the monitors. ¡°Bitchin¡¯.¡± He turned his gaze back to the arena, still smiling as Nimia and Elias stared up at the Ranking¡¯s MC. ¡°Oh now what¡¯s this? Y¡¯all are waitin¡¯ for me to finish? Damn, that¡¯s a nice feelin¡¯! So, in that case, hiya Skalky! Sorry for cuttin¡¯ in on your own announcer gig, but I can¡¯t help myself! It¡¯s just what I do!¡± ¡°...If you want to announce, then call the match,¡± Skalk snarled, glaring straight at Nimia as she flicked open Lucky¡¯s cylinder, checking how many shots she had. Fully loaded, so that was nice for her and less nice for him. ¡°I need to put a bitch in her place.¡± ¡°Damn, testy. But fuck it, I¡¯ll take it! It¡¯s taken a while to get to it, but here we are! The Thirty-Fifth versus the Thirty-Fourth, Nimia Altamirano against Elias Skalk! Y¡¯all can see both of them in all their glory right here, though Skalk really oughta be droppin¡¯ his pants to make things fair. Since he ain¡¯t though, thing¡¯re about t¡¯get real messy round here, and I, for one, am lookin¡¯ forward to it. Nero clapped his hands together, his voice echoing through the whole stadium: ¡°FIGHT!¡± And Nimia shot a hole straight through the center of Skalk¡¯s forehead. His head snapped backwards, blood spraying from the whole, before he forced his head back into place, snarling furiously as the wound sealed shut through rapidly regenerating flesh as Nimia winced at the abrupt sting in her neck. Which was probably because of the collar she had in her neck which, right, this dude had control over, and it was now pumping her body full of mutagens. ¡°There! Now you¡¯ll turn out much bet-GH!¡± Skalk jerked back, clutching his wrecked eye socket as his right arm bulged, his own modifications reacting to the trauma¨CThen the butt of the revolver smashed into his chin, swung like a club as Nimia adjusted her grip and broke his fucking jaw¨C Her grip adjusted again, flipping from the barrel to the handle with her finger on the trigger as she took a third shot up through his jaw and out the top of Skalk¡¯s head¨CAn enlarged fist slammed into her side and she grit her teeth and she went flipping back, rolling to her feet to see Skalk rapidly healing and snarling in pure rage as his left arm twisted into a massive, curved blade of solid bone. She ducked a swing and her fourth shot went straight through his other eye, earning a scream of pain and frustration before his upper face erupted with rapidly formed yellow eyes, pressing out and glaring at her through leaking, red tissues. Nimia hummed, nodding to that, then fired her fifth and sixth shots into his knees, earning another scream as she sprinted away from Skalk, trying to ignore what felt like her veins pulsing in her neck. She put Lucky back in her mouth, gripping it by the handle with her teeth, and tore a thin spike from Long Silver, before rolling out of the way on instinct as Skalk dove for her, his enraged snarling cutting out with gurgled choking as he slammed straight into the wreckage of the shell and got a good dozen spikes through his chest and throat. There was plenty of blood, leaking fast as Skalk snarled, his eyes wide and frenzied but still intelligent as he tried to twist off the jagged husk, when Nimia shoved the spike straight into his temple. It didn¡¯t quite go all the way through, since all the regenerating, crimson flesh, nerves, and sinew were working hard already to fix the damage she caused, but one more adjustment of grip and Nimia swung Lucky hard to hammer the spike straight through one side of his head to the other, piercing right through his frontal lobe. Skalk choked, blood and saliva spilling down his stretching, elongated chin as his whole body jerked and twitched, before his organic blade peeled apart, twisting into two bladed limbs, and his expanded fist bulged and twisted and became a massive, solid trunk akin to a battering ram and his legs twisted around to start working properly, tearing through themselves as his bones jutted out, forming legs that might¡¯ve been digitigrade but looked almost insectile and acid spilled from the gaping tears in his expanding stomach and¨C
35 -> 34
Skalk jerked back, roaring and gasping and choking as its head ripped itself open like a fleshy flower bud in full bloom, pulling the spike out as Nimia blinked, trying to figure out what the hell just happened and why she just¨C ¡°Rule Number Three, chica,¡± Nero spoke up, chuckling as Skalk¡¯s body continued tearing itself apart to form something not quite whole, ¡°Or, more specifically, somethin¡¯ I like to call rule three point five, or three A, or the brain-fuck rule! It has a lotta names, and the basics here is that any sapient being is allowed into the Rankings, as long as they don¡¯t violate Rule Two. Naturally, thinkin¡¯ about it, that¡¯s gotta exclude beings that ain¡¯t sapient, don¡¯t it?¡± ¡°...Huh. So...because I destroyed his brain-¡± ¡°Oh you outright fucked it, Nimmy. If this fucker was any kind of natural, he would¡¯a died with the first shot, but ah well. As it is though, you did enough to fuck his cheating until it broke his whole body. Pretty damn fast too, so grats on that, specially with the lack of an arm.¡± Nimia nodded to that, watching the snarling monster start twitching towards her, the eyes it formed on its upper tendrils completely empty of all the hate they once held. They were vacant; life was in there, but thought wasn¡¯t. She lifted Lucky and fired at the center of its mass, deciding to trust her ¡°luck¡± on killing the poor beast. Her last bullet went straight through, missing every single organ, then ricocheted off Long Silver¡¯s shell and pierced right through the mutant¡¯s heart, popping it in a spray of gore. Three seconds later, and what was once Elias Skalk began to slump and slough into a pile of greasy red flesh, soaking into the sand of the arena without ceremony. ¡°You coulda left him.¡± There was no judgment in Nero¡¯s statement, just curiosity. ¡°I could¡¯ve. I don¡¯t think that would feel right though. He was a piece of shit, but I don¡¯t know if I want to leave him like that...or maybe I should¡¯ve? Maybe a mutant monster would¡¯ve had it better than a human monster¡­¡± She sighed, shrugging. ¡°I¡¯m not great with philosophy. I just kill people.¡± ¡°So do some philosophers. Either way, grats on the win, and good luck on gettin¡¯ outta there. You¡¯re gonna need it.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡­¡± Nimia paused, then looked up at the completely silent stands. And all the people staring down at her. The people who invested in Skalk¡¯s business, who sold weapons and drugs to his people, who bought monsters from him, who got off to watching mutants kill each other...and who she just fucked over by killing the source of all their business and entertainment. And that wasn¡¯t getting into all the Fangs in the stands, who were outright loyal to the sadistic fuck. She could even vaguely make out Tusk staring down at her from the broken windows of the lounge, though the raider turned away after a few seconds. She pursed her lips, glanced down at Lucky and flicked open the cylinder. Every bullet was spent, because she used every shot. Right. Yeah. Hm. ¡°Oh, also, while I¡¯m here, a happy heya to the bitches three! Hope y¡¯all enjoyed the show, try not to piss yourself or pop a blood vessel before Nim can get to you, quit schlickin¡¯ it to gore you fucked up surgery fetishist, and lighten the fuck up you genocidal nut.¡± Nero chuckled, before saluting to the viewers. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s all from me! Just one more thing before I sign out, and that¡¯s to Nimmy herself!¡± Nimia paused mid thought, her eyes already glancing towards Prizewinner as the curious chimera wandered over and started sniffing at the meaty corpse now present in the pit. ¡°Ah, what? What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Not much, just wanted to say ¡®say hi to the twins!¡¯ So, yeah, say hi to the twins.¡± ¡°...Twins?¡± Nimia paused, then glanced towards the sound of a massive explosion taking place right outside the stadium, which finally got the spectators to outright panic and start trying to get out as the Fangs whipped their heads around, trying to figure out if they should be avenging their boss or figuring out why the hell they were being attacked out of nowhere. ¡°...Ah. Twins. Huh.¡± ¡°Yeah, enjoy that! Oh, and the new arm, enjoy that too.¡± ¡°Huh? Wait, what?¡± Nimia looked up at Nero, but the screens all cut out at once, leaving only the increasingly loud sounds of screams and explosions. She blinked, then glanced at her right shoulder, which was sort of throbbing for some reason, under the metal plating. Which, right, she did just get injected with mutagens, and it felt like they entered through the right side of her neck, but she did just get healed up, so it should be all good¨C And that¡¯s when the pain hit. 33 32 - Scarlet Red and Violet Blue
Match 17 #34 Nimia ¡°The Shelled Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs. #33 Georgia ¡°Scarlet¡± Bright And #32 Virginia ¡°Violet¡± Darke
Nimia had an arm. That wasn¡¯t new, she usually had at least one arm and she was even initially born with two, but after about...twelvish, if she remembered right, she tended to only have one, and she¡¯d learned to live with that. It would kinda suck when she did things like reach for water with a nonexistent arm or have to climb a mountain for training with only one hand and the phantom pain was, as implied by the name, an absolute pain, but she lived with it! Cybernetic prosthetics made it all easier, but they had their own issues. Some, she couldn¡¯t get wet; others were heavy enough to fuck with her center of balance and slowed down her movements. Still, again, she learned to live with it. It was rough, but she still had it better than people with shittier prosthetics or no access to them at all. She lived with it. So it was kinda fucking with her head that she had a new right arm that literally ripped straight through all those expensive cybernetics she had to sit through surgery after surgery to even get working right. Well, it didn¡¯t quite rip through; she had to tear off most of the bits herself because it was pushing through them and hurting like hell because it was literally newly formed flesh and bone trying to go up against pointy, pokey alloys and electronics. Not a good combination. End result: she had a new right arm that was weirdly pink and felt weirdly wet. Kind of like a newborn rat, though it seemed functional enough as she sprinted up the stands of Safrazo¡¯s stadium. Worked well enough for vaulting over fences in the open area and seemed to be able to hold up a rifle well enough. As for how she knew about that part, she¡¯d grabbed an assault rifle from one of the Fangs that had tried to shoot her. Because those guys were trying to shoot/gut her at the moment, probably in revenge for her killing their boss. Not too new to her, though she usually tended to kill all the henches before their boss, so it was a bit of a change up. Her current goal though was twofold. Threefold, if she counted ¡°survive¡± as a goal, but aside from that, she wanted her sword back, which meant getting back to that lounge she was first brought to, and getting the collar around her neck off, because keeping something on while it actively pumped mutagens into her body seemed like a really bad idea. Sure, she had a new arm, but she¡¯d prefer to keep her physical changes to just that, so her first thought for handling that problem was finding Tusk, who was the highest ranked Maw-member that she knew about. Also the only one that she actually spoke to instead of killing¨C Nimia paused, a bit of a dangerous thing to do in the current circumstances, and sprinted for one of the nearest Fangs as she tossed the empty rifle away. The stands had cleared out quick of any ¡°civilians¡±¨Cwho fucked off the instant they realized they were about to be in the middle of a warzone¨Cand anyone that stuck around to shoot at her was clearly fair game, so she grabbed one topless, masked weirdo and grappled her to the ground, keeping her arm around the Fang¡¯s throat as she pressed low between rows of seats, aiming to stay out of view for a sec. ¡°So hey, how do I get this collar off?¡± ¡°Gh-FUCK YOU! SHE¡¯S OVER-¡± Nimia gripped the back of the Fang¡¯s head, slammed her face first into the concrete, and pulled back again as a chunk of her bestial mask fell off. ¡°I know I didn¡¯t say I¡¯d hurt you if you didn¡¯t tell me, but I thought it was implied.¡± She tightened her grip around the Fang¡¯s throat. ¡°Add on, I can break your neck easy.¡± ¡°Fhh, f-fuck you, you ain¡¯t gettin¡¯-¡± Nimia pressed Lucky to the back of the Fang¡¯s head, cocking the revolver¡¯s hammer. ¡°Third pitch, you gonna strike out?¡± ¡°...¡± The Fang¡¯s eyes searched, trying to see a way out, but she was too low and there was too much noise. The explosions were still going on and half the Fangs had to figure out what was going on there, so she was kinda fucked here, so she took a breath and growled as fur started to sprout across her skin¨C And Nimia flipped her revolver around and slammed the butt hard into the Fang¡¯s head, then stood and stomped again to make sure the jackass stayed down. ¡°Right, fourth thing, find revolver ammo.¡± She scratched at her neck, a little absently, then blinked as the screens around the stadium flashed again. No Nero this time though. Instead, it was¨C
¡°Testing, testing, one forty-two,¡± Scarlet spoke into the mic she was holding in front of her helmet. It was unnecessary, since she had a perfect audio set-up inside said motorcycle helmet, but it was theatrics, and theatricals were important in the business, ¡°Well howdy there everyone. You might not know me. If you do, odds are you¡¯ve shot yourself on the spot to avoid me getting my hands on you. That¡¯s a fair reaction, happens a lot, but let it be known that I will be defiling your corpse in some pretty shit ways as a result. If you have a problem with that, should¡¯ve fucking thought of that afore you pussed out. ¡°If you don¡¯t know me, then let me introduce myself. I¡¯m Georgia Bright, but most folks call me Scarlet Red, on account of the red clothes I like to wear. Also the red motorcycle I tend to ride, and the red tattoos I got covering most of my body. Which, no, you probably won¡¯t be seeing. Jumpsuit stays on during jobs, same for the helmet.¡± She gestures to herself and the camera pans, taking care to show the bright crimson cruiser she was currently perched on, the professionally made red and black racing suit she had on, the crimson leather jacket she was wearing with the ¡°Paradiso¡± logo on the back, her black boots and red gloves, and the scarlet motorcycle helmet she was wearing, its black visor hiding the sadistic grin she could barely keep off her face. ¡°So no, you don¡¯t get to see my cute face either, but I can give a few details if you like. Lessee, I¡¯m five foot nine, weight¡¯s one sixty, hair¡¯s red but I tend to keep it cropped close on account of my driving, I¡¯m white so my skin tone¡¯s light with a slight tan, I like bikes, cars, hiking, mutilation, trophies, skinning the worthless fucks that piss me off, and hunting!¡± she continued, all in a very cheerful voice, ¡°So congrats to all you fine folks out there, here to enjoy the bloodsports of the Maw, because I¡¯m here to show you how to hunt! In a sense. Really, I¡¯m here to hunt you, but don¡¯t worry, you get to participate in this too!¡± The camera panned back, showing the ¡°hunt¡± ongoing in what was once the Maw¡¯s base of operations. Safrazo was once a zoo, so it had plenty of pits and pools that were intended as spacious living areas for the animals within them. The Maw had repurposed them to hold the chimeras they kept for auction, and now every last one of those chimeras had been let loose by the cheering horde of motorcyclists that were running down the various Fangs that were trying to put up a resistance. The Fangs were losing badly, even as more and more of them tried turning into full beasts to fight back. The riders had guns and grenades that they were using with reckless abandon, blowing apart heads and dragging corpses behind their bikes with chains. Some of the black-clad Brutes¨Ctheir own outfits consisting of black jumpsuits, motorcycle helmets, and black leather jackets or vests¨Ceven commandeered the Fang¡¯s own vehicles, riding around in jeeps with mounted machine guns that made things even rougher for the gang on the backfoot. ¡°Now, my boys might be having their fun, but the Blasted Brutes ain¡¯t the only participants in this game! That¡¯s right, you, random asshole, might just make it outta this alive if you decide to join on in! Kill the person closest to you! Might be a friend, might be family! But if you wanna live, you gotta prove you¡¯re at least worth keeping around! Oh, and if you¡¯re thinking of getting out of here without us letting you go, my sis has a little something to take that off the table. HEY GIN!¡± And on cue, another motorcycle roared into the plaza beside Scarlet¡¯s, its body painted a vivid blue in sharp contrast to its crimson twin. Similarly, Virginia Darke, otherwise known as Violet Blue, was identical to her twin in every way besides color. Everywhere Scarlet was red, Violet was blue, and where her clothes were black, Violet¡¯s were white. Though the blood dripping from the severed heads mounted on the spears jutting up from the back of her bike did threaten to taint her colors. ¡°It¡¯s Violet while on the job, Georgie, you know that.¡± ¡°Sure, yeah, got your attention anyway. Everybody, here¡¯s my sis. We call her Violet Blue, on account of everything going on with her. Now you might be wondering, huh? How¡¯s this your twin? She has blue hair and dark skin! Well first off, dumbass, it¡¯s called hair dye, and second off, when a white raider and a black raider get real high and decide to fuck, the kids turn out either color! It¡¯s just fun for us that we contrast~ Now Violet, you wanna be bitchy in front of everybody, or you wanna be flashy?¡± ¡°Ha! What¡¯s the worth of doing something if you can¡¯t do it with style?¡± Violet¡¯s own grin was wide and cruel as she raised a hand, her middle finger and thumb pressed together before she snapped, and Safrazo was rocked by even more explosions as the trains and helicopters out of Safrazo erupted in bright blue fireballs. ¡°KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUCK YEAH!¡± Scarlet screamed, pumping her first in the air. ¡°Gyeheheh! Ah, love the smell of burnt metal in the afternoon. Smells like home.¡± ¡°GOT THAT RIGHT! And speaking of home, it¡¯s time for an old past-time! So c¡¯mon you sick fucks, GIVE IT YOUR ALL! YOU LOVE THE BLOOD, SO TIME TO DRINK!¡±
Eliza scowled at the livefeed on her appropriated phone, growling irritably as she adjusted the far too loose clothes she had to settle for. The former commander of the Corroders wasn¡¯t having a good week. Losing the rest of her company sucked, getting captured sucked worse, and now she had fucking psychopaths looking to hunt her down. She licked around her lips, getting a bit of the blood staining them. It tasted like copper and oil. A different kind of taste from the standard, familiar and unpleasant. She fiddled with the helmet in her free hand for a moment, just checking to see if she should even bother with it, before throwing it at the naked fuck whose throat she¡¯d torn open. When the 35th¨Cnow the 34th¨Chad thrown that dart, there was some panic. Lots of Fangs running close, and some confusion. Altamirano had been half out of it, but she still decked one of the bitches hard enough to smash her against Eliza¡¯s cage, and she took the opportunity to grab a knife. After that, no one paid attention to her, which was fine. She knew how this sort of thing went: at most, she was gonna be a demonstration. The collar around her neck would pump her full of mutagens and she¡¯d become a monster to show just how effective their tech was. Simple shit. She once shot a man in the head to demonstrate acid rounds, she knew how things went. Didn¡¯t mean she had to like it, and when the room went dark as they dragged Altamirano away, she felt around her collar, found a good spot, and stabbed her newly acquired knife straight into it. It was a small point, between the injector and the mutagens, and she got it exactly. Not surprising, she knew tech just fine, and these animalistic assholes were complacent with what they had. Then the new assholes came in and started shooting the Fangs, which was also fine, in her personal opinion, since she didn¡¯t really like the Fangs. And when the dumbass that came down into the animal pen saw a naked woman crouched and cowering in a cage, he just couldn¡¯t help himself. Idiots were easy; they would either play hero or sadist. If he¡¯d tried hero, she would maybe feel bad, but as it was, there was no hesitation or pity on her part as she jammed her knife straight up into his throat. Moron even unzipped his jumpsuit for her, which made it real easy to get some actual, if loose, clothes on after she ripped open half his neck. Hm. Maybe she could join up with the Brutes? She did just kill someone. Though it was more likely they¡¯d put her on a pike for killing one of their own, and she really didn¡¯t want to get impaled like that...Maybe she should cut his face off? It wouldn¡¯t help, but it might calm her nerves¡­ Eliza shook her head and let out a breath. She was a veteran merc, she could handle some stress without resorting to mutilation. For now, she needed to weigh her options. Option 1: Brutes - A murderous gang of mercs who worked under Paradiso¡¯s umbrella. Pros: She might get a motorcycle. Cons: She already killed one, so trying to join would probably get her killed horrifically; they¡¯re also a bunch of sadistic freaks lacking in professionalism. Option 2: Fangs - Large gang of raiders who have a weird predator and tribal kink going on. Pros: Won¡¯t get killed by Brutes. Cons: Already failing with their leader dead, might decide to mutate her into a chimera, uniform involves constantly baring her tits. Option 3: Go it alone. ...Yeah fuck that. Eliza was not an independent woman, she wanted fucking back up. Becoming the leader of that band of assholes after Tinley bit the big bullet was the worst thing that could¡¯ve happened to her, especially since those dumb fucks demanded she take vengeance on that bi-... Option 4: Altamirano? Eliza paused in thought as she made her way through the corridors of the stadium, both hands on the shotgun she appropriated from the dumbfuck. Altamirano was the source of her troubles, but also maybe the solution. Hitching herself to someone rising through the ranks might not be a bad idea. Everyone needed at least one hench to handle the dirty work, and the bitch already owed her for costing her so much. ¡°Gh, fuck, fucking bastards,¡± growled one furry Fang, stumbling into the hall in front of her, clutching the bullet wounds leaking into her thick fur, ¡°Gonna rip their-¡± Eliza¡¯s shotgun barked once, blasting the Fang off her feet in a burst of flames, before another shot blew the twitching raider¡¯s chest apart. Yeah, Altamirano can work, Eliza thought to herself as she pulled the mask from the Fang¡¯s face, slipping on the metallic visage of a snarling monster. I might not like her, but when have I ever liked my employers? She licked her lips as she glanced at one of the tv screens hung up in the halls, its image now showing the 34th in question as she sprinted through the upper areas of the stadium, still wearing absolutely nothing but a loincloth. Besides, she¡¯s at least cute¡­
The tv screen switched from it¡¯s view of Altamirano back to the twins. Neither of their faces could be seen, but the glee was obvious in Scarlet¡¯s voice. ¡°Good to see the bitch still lives! And is looking damn good while doing it~¡± ¡°Yup. Looking like she¡¯s made to be sold there.¡± ¡°Now Violet, we can¡¯t go getting ahead of ourselves here! She might be our grand prize, but we have no idea if the idiots out there can even kill her, much less catch her! But hey, if you do, congrats! Not only are you making it out of this alive, you¡¯re getting an executive position in Paradise!¡± ¡°Really now¡­¡± Tusk muttered as she stocked some harddrives into her briefcase, which already had a case of vials taking up a good amount of space. The Maw lieutenant had slipped a dark red duster over her chest, taken from her former colleague, Molar. He¡¯d had a similar idea to her, but, well, she was quicker on the draw. ¡°Hm...is that worth the risk? It might be¡­¡± ¡°Oh, but let¡¯s not forget the runner-up prizes!¡± Scarlet gestured to a space over her shoulder, where a box appeared, showing two rows of people. One picture showed the mask they wore, and the other their actual face, and Tusk grimaced as she saw her own on-screen, displaying the dark-gray line going vertically over her chin and the set of three curved stalactites she had tattooed under each eye. ¡°Each lieutenant of the Maw is going to be worth a million, so long as you bring back their mask and head, and you¡¯ll get an extra five hundred grand if you bring them alive! Hell, we might even let you keep one if you¡¯re attached enough!¡± ¡°We do want the heads intact though, so don¡¯t fuck around,¡± Violet added, ¡°And mutilated prizes aren¡¯t worth nearly as much, so don¡¯t test my patience.¡± ¡°Violet¡¯s already claimed a few, so get to it! Try your best and win big! Or else!¡± ¡°Y¡¯know, she¡¯s a lot peppier than I thought she¡¯d be.¡± Tusk went rigid at the voice behind her, then whirled- Altamirano smiled softly as she held the naked blade of a saber to Tusk¡¯s neck, calmly taking the handgun she¡¯d tried to pull and dismissing it into her inventory without hesitation. ¡°Heya, Tusk. Got my sword back.¡± She looked around slowly, taking in the corpse with a bullet in the back of its head lying face down on the floor of the lab. ¡°Are you robbing your own workplace?¡± ¡°...I consider it more claiming my severance pay.¡± ¡°Interesting. Mutagens count as severance pay now?¡± ¡°In the right line of work, yes.¡± She didn¡¯t smile. It wouldn¡¯t help with the mask on. She did, however, take note of Altamirano¡¯s arm. Her newly regrown arm, which, quite noticeably, now had green scales tracing up its fingers and spreading to the pink flesh of the hand. ¡°Ah, yeah, thanks for the arm, by the by. It saves me a good chunk of change trying to get a new one. Seems a little defective though.¡± Altamirano kept smiling. ¡°Are the scales a natural thing here, or¡­?¡± ¡°...If you¡¯re wondering if they were intentional, then yes, they were. You were given a mutagenic cocktail prepared to give you the traits Elias wanted for you. You were supposed to grow more than one arm.¡± ¡°Really? How many were I going to get?¡± Tusk shrugged, careful not to move her neck too much. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask. The genetic design was up to Molar and his group.¡± She gestured with one hand to the corpse. ¡°He is no longer with us.¡± ¡°So I see. Would he know how to fix me?¡± ¡°He would. I-¡± ¡°Would you know?¡± ¡°I was about to say I would, yes. I do know, and the anti-mutagen-¡± ¡°Quick question. Why would you carry an anti-mutagen? If you want to genetically fuck someone, why give them a way out?¡± ¡°It¡¯s intended to be in case of accidents. Spilled material getting on the wrong person.¡± ¡°And you wouldn¡¯t just chuck them in the pit? They fucked up, so why not leave them to their fate and get some entertainment out of it, huh?¡± Tusk tried not to swallow. Her throat was dry. Altamirano had unfortunately good intuition. ¡°There are still those we wouldn¡¯t want mutated-¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Who? No, seriously, who did your boss give that much of a shit about? He mutated himself. Packed his body with all sorts of nasty shit to come back from anything. Why would he want anyone to have a way out of what he liked best? Watching people become monsters?¡± ¡°...¡± She could try grabbing a vial. Maybe if she reached fast enough- ¡°How did he stay sane?¡± ¡°Ah¡­?¡± ¡°Elias. I don¡¯t care how fucked my body gets. How did he keep his mind through it? Up until I destroyed it.¡± ¡°...There¡¯s...genetic therapies, mixtures to keep a person stable-¡± ¡°Can I find any of that right here and now?¡± ¡°I...yes, of course-¡± ¡°Would you know? Or would Molar know?¡± ¡°We would both-¡± ¡°But he would know better, and you shot him, so I might be fucked because of you. So give me a very good reason not to chuck your head at the twins to see if they¡¯ll give me that money.¡± ¡°...His files are in the briefcase too, I downloaded them onto multiple back-up drives so I¡¯ll have insurance in case anything goes wrong.¡± ¡°Or in case you have multiple bidders and want the best you can get.¡± ¡°...Do you want my help? I¡¯m not a biomechanist or whatever you want to call this field, but I was born into this gang and I¡¯ve lived its truth for ages. I know how things work here, I know a great deal about raider culture, and I can help you.¡± ¡°Is there anything in here, right now, that can keep me from going crazy?¡± ¡°You¡¯re already not mutating as fast as you should be. Maybe whatever you did to stifle the mutation will be enough.¡± ¡°Nanomachines, bought them online.¡± Tusk blinked at that. ¡°Hm...what¡¯s this guy¡¯s blood type?¡± ¡°...ah...O? Negative, I think.¡± ¡°Convenient. He¡¯s worked with this stuff for ages, right? Good scientist?¡± ¡°...Ethically speaking, no. In terms of results we wanted, yes.¡± ¡°Nice. You live. Hand me a syringe.¡± Tusk did so, taking one from the desk and giving it to her without hesitation. Altamirano smiled as she took it and moved her blade away from Tusk¡¯s neck, then drove the syringe into the artery in Molar¡¯s neck. She drew blood, studying it, and then...stabbed herself straight in the neck. ¡°...What in the world are you doing?¡± ¡°Stealing his nanomachines. Don¡¯t worry, I already got vaccinated for bloodborne illnesses." ¡°I...what. You stabbed yourself in the neck.¡± ¡°Yeah. And?¡± ¡°Why??¡± ¡°To add his nanomachines to my own, keep up.¡± ¡°...that¡¯s not how anything works though.¡± ¡°Sounds like someone doesn¡¯t know anything about nanomachines.¡± Altamirano paused, then glanced to the door right as someone knocked on it. ¡°Huh.¡± And without any hesitation, she stood, walked over, and opened it, completely uncaring of the fact that there was a woman in a bloody Fang mask and an equally bloody jumpsuit hanging loosely over her body. ¡°Heya Greenie. You here for vengeance?¡± ¡°Nope. Are you hiring?¡± ¡°...¡± Altamirano blinked, then looked from Eliza Grantland, former commander of the Corroders Mercenary Company, to Tusk, who was feeling very confused. ¡°...Guess I am. Alright, uh, first order of business, new gang members...ah, fuck, I¡¯m already becoming the monster I sought to destroy...welp, too late to take that one back. Now, shit, what do I even want you two to do¡­¡± ¡°We¡¯re taking her?¡± Grantland gestured to Tusk, who felt mildly offended that she, the one who was hired first, was somehow being relegated to handbag status. ¡°When we leave, sure. I don¡¯t know if I want you two with me while I¡¯m getting my murder on though...hey, Tusky. Does this place have a command center? I¡¯d also take an armory, while I¡¯m at it.¡± ¡°...Yes, and both of them are out in the chaos outside.¡± ¡°Ah, lame, that ruins plan A...Alright, let¡¯s workshop this. Tusky, you¡¯ve got knowledge about this whole place. Greenie, you¡¯re decent enough to get clothes and come here while, I guess, killing everyone along the way. Maybe you two can coordinate stuff for me? Be my advisors.¡± ¡°Yeah, sure, put the trained mercenary on advisory duty, fine, here¡¯s some: Don¡¯t get shot by the shotguns, they''re using flame rounds.¡± Tusk frowned. ¡°Hm. That would react badly with the typical transformed Fang¡¯s fur¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, I noticed fire was good for killing them,¡± Altamirano added, before giving Grantland a thumbs up, ¡°And thanks for the input, Greenie. You¡¯re already earning your keep, unlike Tusky.¡± ¡°What? Ah...well, I can-¡± ¡°You can do something for me, yeah. Give me your clothes.¡± Tusk blinked. ¡°...Ah, what?¡± ¡°I¡¯m getting sick of flashing my vag every time there¡¯s loose wind. Give me your clothes. You can keep the mask. Oh, and answer a few questions, real quick. Where¡¯s the armory, is there a good way of controlling chimeras around here, and what can I blow up to cause the most damage at once?¡± ¡°...¡± Tusk was starting to rethink her life choices.
¡°Alright, we¡¯ve got Carnassial and Canine confirmed dead,¡± Scarlet reported, grinning to herself from atop her perch. She was currently parked atop the roof of a two story guard station, giving her a decent enough view of the zoo around her, which was mostly on fire by this point. Her brutes were doing some good work, but there were still plenty of prey out there, and some, at least, were giving a good shot at fighting back, ¡°No sign of Molar or Tusk yet, though Altamirano was last spotted on the upper floors of the stadium.¡± ¡°Roger,¡± Violet answered, and Scarlet¡¯s grin widened as she heard a pleading voice silenced by the crunch of a boot through bone and brain, ¡°Third hotel¡¯s cleared. Not much worth taking, aside from a pair of magnums one Tooth had...ah, which one was the...fuck, what did I do with the mask¡­¡± ¡°No mask, no pay~¡± Scarlet teased. ¡°Yeah yeah, I know, but the pussy dropped it somewhere when it transformed. Whatever. Hm, black and gold, these might...holy shit, I recognize this one. This¡¯s Cleon Joumari¡¯s gun! The fuck!?¡± There was a rough noise¨Cboot slamming against another skull, though one padded with fur over its skin from the sound¨Cas Violet vented her frustrations. ¡°How does a dirty fucking degenerate like you get ahold of a treasure like this, huh!?¡± ¡°Gin, c¡¯mon, he was the forty-fifth. That ain¡¯t exactly impressive.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit about his rank, I give a shit about his driving! Gah, we should¡¯ve hunted him down before Altamirano got to him, I told you we should¡¯ve taken time for it! Fuck me, he would¡¯ve made a fantastic pet, you can¡¯t deny that!¡± ¡°Look, we can¡¯t go dropping jobs just because you want a celebrity! That ain¡¯t-¡± Scarlet paused as her radio crackled. ¡°BOSS! WE GOT ALTA-¡± A gunshot cut the brute¡¯s shouting off, earning a frown from Scarlet. ¡°Huh. Hey, Violet, our boys found the thirty-fourth.¡± ¡°Really? Where?¡± ¡°Gimme a sec, I¡¯ll ask-¡± There¡¯d been plenty of explosions since the Brutes arrived in Safrazo. That wasn¡¯t anything new for the gang; hell, it was practically a calling card of theirs. But an explosion they didn¡¯t cause was still attention-catching, and whatever building that stood in the east had gone up in a full on geyser of...actual liquid. What? ¡°Ah...hey Violet? It¡¯s raining blood.¡± ¡°...What in Sam Hill¡­¡±
Nimia¡¯s smile was wide and manic as she gripped tight the reins of her mount with one hand, urging the chimera formerly known as Prizewinner forward as her legs gripped his flanks and her remaining hand¨Cher new one¨Craised and fired, sending another grenade arching up and crashing down on a jeep that was speeding towards her. It went up in a fireball, though that was quickly doused in the rain of chemicals bathing the plaza around what was once the Maw¡¯s central processing plant. Mutagenic chemicals had to be refined, after all, and while the primary lab was up in the stadium for experimentation and quick use in mutating new fighters, they still needed an area to store chemicals and mix the larger batches for sale to whatever sadistic freaks or cruel governments wanted to make monsters. Which meant there were more than a few huge vats chock full of toxic materials. And damn did they blow up nicely. ¡°¨¢NDALE GORDITO! APLASTA TODO LOS PENDEJOS!¡± Nimia shouted, baring her teeth as her new pet roared in agreement, charging rapidly across the plaza and smashing everything in his way. She pulled one of the grenades from her bandolier, locked and loaded, and fired again up in the air, sending it arching high and landing in a loud BOOM atop a biker and his pal in a sidecar. Said pal was aiming a rocket launcher at her big buddy, so clearly he deserved it. Her new grenade launcher was a slight downgrade though, only a single chamber she had to load one at a time, but oh well, it worked. Her outfit was a definite upgrade from the loincloth she had before though. Sure, Tusk¡¯s pants were a little small on her, but she wasn¡¯t too fussed about showing some ankle, especially since her new boots¨Cappropriated from the dead doc on the floor¨Cfit her fine. Hm, maybe she should¡¯ve taken his pants? But then again, he was dead, so he probably shit in them, and she wasn¡¯t about to take shit pants if she had other options. His coat was nice and cozy too, made for good insulation from all the chemicals still raining down. As for the last parts of her ensemble, she picked up a nice cowboy hat to go along with her murder spree; really get into her farmgirl heritage and all. She grabbed it off a spectator¡¯s corpse, and she was liking how the black hat felt under the rain. Oh, and she had a bandolier of grenades over her chest, but that was more for carrying ammo. ¡°What the fuck did you do here!?¡± Ah, and the stars of the show arrived! Nimia pulled tight on the reins, bringing her mount to a halt, and hopped off the chimeric boar, patting his flank with her free hand. ¡°Buen trabajo! Ahora m¨¢rchate, tengo trabajo que hacer.¡± Gordito snorted in reply, then ambled off to go much on one of the roasted corpses of the brutes lying around, leaving Nimia to spread her arms wide, grinning at the twins staring her down from their bikes. ¡°Hey there! Thirty-third and thirty-second, coming at me all at once...I¡¯m almost feeling honored!¡± Scarlet snorted, chuckling as she revved her engine. ¡°Don¡¯t be. We¡¯ve had our eye on this operation for a while now.¡± ¡°Though you just cost us a big setback here,¡± Violet added, sounding a lot less amused. ¡°That you did, but I¡¯m sure you can work it off for us~. Assuming we leave enough of you to work.¡± ¡°Hmm, tempting, but nah,¡± Nimia replied, shaking her head as she summoned her darling, twirling it around as she got used to the balance again, ¡°I¡¯m not the type to whore for wealthy patrons. That seems more your thing, no?¡± Scarlet chuckled darkly at that, then started driving, beginning to circle around Nimia. ¡°You¡¯ve got a big mouth for a newcomer. Don¡¯t go thinking momentum¡¯s gonna be on your side. It¡¯s real damn easy to hit a point you can¡¯t get past.¡± ¡°And you think that¡¯ll be you two?¡± ¡°We know it.¡± Violet started driving too. Both twins were circling her now, on opposite sides of her. ¡°See, everyone before you thought the same. And here I am. Though, before I get started, just a few things.¡± She jerked her thumb towards Violet as she passed behind her. ¡°Why¡¯s your name Darke instead of Bright? You two are twins, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, but I married a guy about...what, a century ago?¡± ¡°Something like that, yeah,¡± Scarlet confirmed, ¡°Isaac, I think.¡± ¡°Yeah, he had a name I liked, and was good in the sack. Burnt real nice.¡± ¡°...see, I don¡¯t know if that last part is related to the first part, but whatever.¡± At that point, Violet was in front of her again, and she noticed the holsters at the biker¡¯s waist. ¡°You have my guns.¡± ¡°Mine now, cunt. Cleon¡¯s old magnum is a collector¡¯s item, and I¡¯m collecting.¡± ¡°Hm, sure, but it¡¯s still my gun. Same for Sonya there.¡± ¡°You named your guns?¡± ¡°Wait, Sonya? Sonya Lawton? Like the investment broker?¡± Scarlet asked, earning an annoyed look from her sister. ¡°Really? Why do you even know that?¡± ¡°She was literally one number down from Joumari! Don¡¯t fucking start with this.¡± Nimia nodded to herself, leaning the back of her saber against her shoulder as she dismissed her grenade launcher, bringing out her Lucky revolver. Her scaly fingers held it easy, still green even under the rain of dark red. By this point, the twins were looking even more identical, their clothes soaked and dyed with the chemical rain. ¡°Alright. One last question. Why work for Summerton?¡± ¡°Lots of money and fun toys.¡± ¡°Plenty of sex and luxury.¡± ¡°Is this about the slaves?¡± one of them asked, chuckling. ¡°Because we don¡¯t give a shit,¡± the other finished, ¡°In fact, how¡¯s this? You give up right now, and we won¡¯t saw your legs off before giving you over.¡± ¡°Ooo, generous~ You oughta take that.¡± Nimia sighed, closing her eyes. The revving of the engines sounded clear through the rain, and when she opened them, six more bikers had joined the circle around her. Under the rain, it was hard to tell which were the twins, but she had a good guess. One had a long javelin out at her side, held forward like a lance. Another held a curved axe, its blade steaming in the deluge, its hilt modified with what looked like a motorcycle grip. The rest had things like pipes, chains, a katana...but she was pretty sure she knew who she needed to kill. There was a roar and one surged out of the circle, racing towards her from behind and she twisted, ducking a baseball bat swung for her head as two more came in, one flinging a chain and the other swung the pipe. She grabbed the chain, twirled to miss the pipe, and yanked the brute clear off his bike, swinging him hard into the ground in front of another biker, whose wheel smashed straight into him¨Csending a snap of bones echoing out¨Cand sent the rider crashing to the ground to meet Nimia¡¯s rising foot, kicking into him helmet like a soccer ball and smashing him up into the air, where he was speared through by a javelin. Then another came and she bent back far as the biker drove past her, grimacing as it went over her face, then twisted up and fired shots at the rider who twirled her javelin, a bright blue glow cutting through the rain and making the bullets burst before they could reach her. Then the axe came and Nimia went low again, scowling at the whoop of delight sounding out. She fired more shots, but the spark of red shields showed her it wouldn¡¯t be that simple as bat-boy came for another pass along with the samurai, both on either side. She couldn¡¯t dodge, so she jumped and kicked them both in the face, leaping off them as they crashed to the ground. Both were up in seconds though, rushing in as Scarlet revved her axe, sending it bursting with flames as she roared in next. The katana was easy to cleave through with Nimia¡¯s own burning blade, and she carved straight through the samurai before punching bat-boy in the face¨Chard enough to crack the visor of his helmet¨Cthen grabbed him and twisted to throw him straight at Scarlet, who whooped again as she gleefully split her own brute in half, his body burning as it smashed to the ground. It gave Nimia a good opportunity to roll though, dismissing Lucky in favor of the grenade launcher. Not that the grenade did any good, bursting early as Scarlet cut it down. ¡°YOU¡¯LL HAVE TO DO BETTER THAN THAT!¡± Nimia intended to, but there were still two extras in play. Piper rushed in, along with the last who¨CThat was a shotgun¨Cand Nimia decided to take a new option and grabbed one of the wrecked motorcycles that had fallen. Not to ride though, but to throw straight at the shotgun guy, who had the briefest moment to widen his eyes before he was crushed, again, by something Nimia launched at him. With him pulped under the bike¨Cthe wreck dramatically exploding about a second later¨Cshe had one extra and two main stars to deal with, and she ducked another swing from Piper before looking for those stars, only for another javelin to take her hat off. ¡°Ah dammit, I liked that hat,¡± she groused, before pausing at the revving of chainsaws. Which Violet apparently had on the sides of her bike. ¡°CHEAP!¡± Violet just laughed in reply, driving fast and getting a good cut along Nimia¡¯s side as she just barely moved out of the way, before coming right back for another pass, twirling a javelin from the stock she had on her back. Which gave Nimia an idea. Next pass, rather than dodge, she swung, slamming her blade against the chainsaw and actually winning the clash as it burst into metal fragments, earning a yelp from Violet. Nimia was already moving though, grabbing one of the javelins and throwing it, full force, at Scarlet as she came for another pass. The javelin slammed into her chest, sending her off her bike in a scream of pain, echoed in a scream of rage from Violet, who turned her bike fast and roared straight for Nimia. No more fancy tricks, she was just going to run her down. So Nimia waited, took a breath, then stepped to the side and swung. There was a flash in the rain, almost like lightning, and Violet choked as a new spray of blood joined the deluge. Her torso flew from her waist, both crashing to the ground hard and smashing brutally into the pavement, twisting and tumbling with the sound of snapping bones. But the number didn¡¯t change. Huh. ¡°Gotta do better than that,¡± Scarlet rasped, stumbling forward with a low chuckle, the javelin piercing through her chest. She ripped it out easily though, ignoring the spray of blood as she revved her axe again, setting it alight with bright, crimson flames. ¡°Don¡¯t you know¡­? There¡¯re monsters here, kid.¡± She gripped her helmet, then tore it off and chucked it to the side. For a moment, she looked human. A woman, with white skin and red hair, branded and tattooed with burning flames. Then her red eyes burned bright, bleeding a full scarlet as her skin went a raw, meaty red and her body bulged with muscle. She bared her black teeth and laughed as blood leaked from her open chest. ¡°You¡¯re in the big leagues now! And there¡¯s no going back. Not for you.¡± ¡°I know that.¡± Nimia cracked her neck, then took a slow breath, twirling her katana. ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell me.¡± ¡°Heh...Just telling you what I wished someone told me. You might know it, but you need to kill that part of you that doesn¡¯t believe it. Kill your innocence, kill your past. Only then, you¡¯ll find a good way. That¡¯s my gift to you, YOU DAMNED BRAT!¡± Nimia swung again as Scarlet charged, clashing her blade against the now massive axe head. Flames roared, burning too bright to die to steam as metal screamed its bloodlust. One yielded to the struggle, but not the fight, and flashed in the rain, cutting again and again as both women moved and swung over and over, their blades not meeting again but merely sneaking short cuts, the sword kissing the axe as it deflected instead of block, and cut into the flesh. An arm went off, but the axe traded hands easily, though a cut to the thigh did more to make her stumble, and the loss of footing let a hilt slam into a nose before the blade was twisted and thrust straight home up through her chin, spearing out her head in a spray of bright red blood. Still, Scarlet laughed. Just one more time.
34 -> 33
Then she died. ¡°You filthy fucking cunt,¡± Violet snarled from her wreckage, propping herself up one arm and glaring viciously through the fractured remains of her visor, right beside her own lower half. Her pupils were pinpricks in seas of blue, dilated with vicious rage and leaking blue tears. ¡°You think this is it!? That this is over?!¡± Nimia shrugged and pulled her blade free, letting Scarlet drop. She summoned her revolver and shot Piper as the brute drove away, not looking as the fleeing fool wobbled and crashed to the ground. ¡°Not just yet. I still need you dead.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant and you know it. And it¡¯s not about the ranks either, you stupid little brat! Let me give you one fucking clue, same as my sister offered! There¡¯s two things guaranteed in this world! Death, and debt! And you, you stupid fuck, you¡¯ve incurred a massive fucking debt!¡± ¡°I knew that.¡± ¡°No you didn¡¯t, you believed it! Hell, you only believed a lie about it! You think it¡¯s as simple as people wanting blood for blood!? People will take blood for anything! Blood for money, blood for sex, blood for offense! The world¡¯s connected, and every connection you sever sends rocking waves right back your way!¡± Nimia kept walking closer. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me this now because you want me to be afraid. This is your vengeance for me winning, because you¡¯re a sore loser.¡± Violet snarled. ¡°You¡¯re damn right I am! Who the fuck likes losing!?¡± She let out a slow, furious breath, still glaring at Nimia through her helmet, which abruptly cracked completely and fell off her, letting Nimia see an identical woman to the first, but with dark brown skin and azure hair, quickly soaking red in the rain, though all her features soon shifted into a pure blue, vicious and demonic as she snarled again. ¡°But fine, bitch at me. Call me sore. It doesn¡¯t change the fact that you¡¯re pissing people off.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been doing that. I don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°You will. When all their hate comes crashing down on you and guts everyone you¡¯ve ever come close to, you¡¯ll care. And I¡¯ll be right there, mocking you.¡± Abruptly, she grabbed at her own waist, yanking a magnum from its holster, and shoved it up under her own chin before firing, sending a spray of blood up into the air, identical to her sister.
33 -> 32
¡°...Yeah, alright.¡± Nimia shrugged, then walked over to pick up her guns, grabbing the one in Violet¡¯s hand¨CSonya¨Ceasily, though it was a bit harder to work the other one out of its holster, what with the dead ass it was attached to and all. Still, nice to have two of her guns back, even though she lost the others. And also all her money. And the armor she bought. Hm. Then the twins¡¯ corpses burst into flames and that was a thing. Nimia stared, starting to wonder if she should get out of the chemical rain, when the fires began swirling over and settling into her guns, covering them in flame. About a second later, it all settled down, and her magnums looked a lot different. Cleon was the more different looking of the two, as most of its gilded metal had instead shifted into a solid crimson, bright and almost noble looking. Along its slide, the word ¡°Debt¡± had been inscribed in what looked like rose-gold, matching the pale blue lettering spelling ¡°Death¡± out on Sonya¡¯s still black slide. Their handles had also changed to match the colors of their inscriptions, which was...nice? ¡°Hm.¡± She raised her magnums and fired at one of the discarded motorcycles, grinning as it immediately burst with red and blue flames. ¡°Sweet.¡± While she was at it, she should probably grab the axe and javelins the twins had¨C ¡°Holy shit-Gah!¡± Greenie jumped back, her little raincoat bouncing a little at the motion as Nimia lowered her guns. Which she¡¯d just pointed at Greenie. She was still maybe a little wired from the fight. ¡°Fuck, okay, no sneaking up on you¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not a smart thing to do. What¡¯s up? Any more idiots need killing?¡± ¡°Ah, no, I think we¡¯re good there. According to Tusk, the Fangs and their guests are scattering out into the jungles. Any remaining Brutes are hunting them. I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll come back when they find out their bosses are dead. They have a rep for leaving people that are inconvenient.¡± ¡°Huh. Guess ¡®dead¡¯ isn¡¯t very convenient...right. Hey, ask Tusk where the nearest bed is.¡± She paused, then sniffed at herself. ¡°...maybe a shower too.¡± ¡°Alright. Should I send Tusk over with you?¡± ¡°...why?¡± ¡°Well, so you can¡­¡± Greenie shrugged. ¡°...you know.¡± ¡°...?¡± ¡°...You had her strip earlier, so I was sort of assuming¡­¡± ¡°I wanted her clothes.¡± ¡°...Sure. Ah¡­¡± She gave Nimia a rather obvious look over. ¡°...Do you want me to come over with you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to fuck after killing someone, no.¡± ¡°Right. Sure, yeah, I get that, I don¡¯t do that either. At all.¡± She glanced away, fingering a-...a necklace of severed fingers. Hm. ¡°...Yeah. Bed?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, uh, one sec.¡± She turned away, pressing a hand to the side of her head as she started talking to Tusk, and Nimia just let out a slow sigh, letting her shoulders slump. That had been a very long day. E3 - Dead Men
Match 18 Guest Starring: Mister Heizo Wakuri The 20s And Featuring: The King of Xintong
¡°Ahh, hello? Mister Wakuri? Are you there?¡± Takagi asked, his phone pressed to his ear as he reloaded his silenced pistol. Just as a precaution. ¡°I am. Why are you calling?¡± Takagi sighed dramatically, brushing a hand through his short, black hair. His dark green suit was ruffled from his sudden movements. ¡°See, it¡¯s the darndest thing. I got made, so I had to¡­¡± He glanced at the three corpses at the table, slumped in various positions with bullet holes in their heads. ¡°Dirty things up a little.¡± He paused, then added as an afterthought, ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°...You understand, this is the third time you¡¯ve ¡®been made¡¯ on the job." ¡°Yeah, I understand,¡± Takagi replied as he lit a cigarette, taking a drag to think before continuing, ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault though. This one guy, Cho, got a call. Shit¡¯s happening, apparently, and he screamed something about a rat. Now, I know I ain¡¯t a fed, but when a guy shouts that and you¡¯re the only spy around, you have to think fast.¡± ¡°Just as you thought fast in Padapar and Khuleang.¡± Takagi paused. Wakuri didn¡¯t sound mad, but there was something in his tone. ¡°...Well yeah, but those turned out fine overall. We still turned a profit, so the offense was wiped, right? I can do the same here.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s not an option. Our timetable has been thrown out, and securing Xintong looks to be...troublesome. Your current guise has garnered a reputation.¡± ¡°Sure, but it was a necessary one. Sir. These men, triad men, they work differently from us more civilized people-¡± ¡°And to live among the savages, you must become savage yourself. What an awful justification.¡± Takagi felt his eye twitch and he scowled. ¡°Oi, I¡¯m the one in the field here. I don¡¯t expect a desk jockey to understand, but I¡¯m risking a lot of shit if I get found out! Sir. Now just send a damn clean-up team.¡± ¡°Hm. I will take that into consideration. For now, the situation in Xintong is no longer in our interest to pursue. Thank you for your hard work, and goodbye, rabid dog.¡± Takagi blinked, raising an eyebrow, when his phone exploded right next to his head. It wasn¡¯t a small explosion either. Every window on his floor of the office building blew out from the force as the entirety of Takagi¡¯s upper body was blasted to charred meat. Countries away, Wakuri Heizo let out a slow sigh. To most, he would look to be a very unassuming middle-aged gentleman with a portly figure. His hair was still black, cropped short around his head, and he wore a pair of round glasses over his dark eyes. They were the only thing he wore as he sat in seiza in a barren room. A tablet sat on the ground in front of him, and he set his phone to charge once more as he settled into position. His fingers still burned, and he enjoyed the sensation. At his back, there was the visage of a fierce, crimson deva tattooed. In the middle of its forehead, the number 400 was fully visible. Down his arms and thighs, more images were visible. A rat, an ox, a tiger, a rabbit, so on, formed in their own colors and creating an artistic tableau across his body. One thing every animal had in common was that, in its mouth, in its hands, or on its back, it held the unmistakable image of a bomb. Large, round, and with an unlit fuse. The images projected in front of him, screens floating above their single source, displayed what he knew was happening. The deaths of unpleasant agents, and the chaos of a dying beast that had yet to realize its organs were failing. Yes, one must take the head of a snake to kill it, but once the heart, stomach, liver, and lungs have all been carved out, there is little the brain can do but fail to realize its own death. As the reports continued, he picked up his phone again and called a specific number. ¡°Miss Altamirano has entered Xintong.¡± ¡°Oh good. I was almost worried she would not show up in time. Punctuality is quite important.¡± ¡°Indeed. In addition, Miss Jiang Xinyue is approaching Shanfeng.¡± ¡°My, that is quicker than I had hoped. A threeway battle would have been more...spectacular.¡± Despite his words, Morikawa Zeshin spoke in a cold, analytical tone, as though the prospect of violence was regarded only in the benefits it could bring. The question then became what benefit a spectacle would hold¡­ ¡°We could have Miss Jiang delayed, sir. She does appear to be making a detour on the way.¡± ¡°No, it would be a waste. Either she dies or Shao dies. Altamirano will face the survivor.¡± ¡°Of course. I will pray for her success.¡± ¡°Prayers mean nothing. Do not waste your time with them.¡± He nodded to no one. ¡°Of course. She purchased a new suit from a different company. Walkure Armaments.¡± ¡°Understandable. The recall may have soured her impression of our generosity, and generosity revoked is meaningless. You have a question.¡± He did. ¡°Why did you recall the suit? It was primed.¡± ¡°It mattered little. We gave her new legs.¡± ¡°I did not have a chance to prime those legs.¡± ¡°Do try to watch your words, Heizo. Expressing an interest in feeling a young woman¡¯s legs is inappropriate these days." ¡°...Why do you want her to climb without a leash, sir?¡± ¡°Truthfully? I want to see how much of this world she devastates on her path. People speak of rocking waves to herald change, yet miss the hurricane bearing down on them. They think the waves are ripples, believing them spread from a rock that sinks into the depths the instant it breaks the surface, and fail to realize just what threw that rock.¡± ¡°...My apologies, but I don¡¯t follow the metaphor.¡± ¡°Hm, I thought that was a decent one...no matter. Leave Xintong. Scorava will be claiming it, though I doubt his pets will remain for long. He will not want to risk all five in one fight, even if he could take the advantage here. The twins illustrated quite cleanly how poor the option of an ambush really is.¡± ¡°I would think five opponents on one exhausted woman should result in the woman¡¯s death.¡± ¡°But is her death worth it? Why risk five assets to eliminate one threat when you have far better options? For instance, I find it very likely that Jiang has made promises and guarantees to the Scorava in return for their aid. Promises she may even hold to, should she truly feel grateful.¡± ¡°Presuming she lives, yes?¡± ¡°Precisely. Now, continue with clean-up. Scorava may take Xintong, but we might as well make some trouble for the old man. Though do wait until the fight is done. I would prefer we not risk my own investment in these matters.¡± ¡°Of course, sir.¡± Heizo waited for the call to end, set his phone down, and held out his hand. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as he inhaled deep, each fingertip lighting as across the kingdom of Xintong, faint clicks echoed out around a number of objects¨Csome carried and some planted¨Cfollowed by a slow, steady ticking. Wakuri Heizo was a man who followed orders. He was also a man with particular tastes he so very much wanted to satisfy, and from the instant he saw Altamirano cleave Hyeon Cheol-su straight in half, he knew she would be a brilliant display. Hopefully she would finish the fight quickly. The anticipation was killing him.
Qingkuang was a small, but decent bar. Relatively fancy, with decorative, if false, gold covering the walls and old scrolls hanging that the owner would insist came from a Pre-Ruin dynasty, though he would be hard pressed to name which one. It wasn¡¯t quite a restaurant, though it did serve food and drinks, and it wasn¡¯t quite a casino, though people could gamble there. A gambling parlor might be a good descriptor for the establishment. It¡¯s what the four men seated at one table were currently in the process of doing, after all. ¡°It feels like we¡¯re playing the wrong game,¡± one man, Baxter, muttered, checking the cards in his hand. His skin was dark brown and he wore a blue suit. He was bald, clean-shaven and fairly fat. ¡°Everyone feels like that. The life is the life, regardless,¡± another man, Kelton, replied, then tapped the table, ¡°Check.¡± In contrast, his skin was pale and he wore a red suit. His hair was red, his eyes were cold, and he had a short beard. ¡°I mean we¡¯re playing poker in a Chinese restaurant. Shouldn¡¯t we be playing Mahjong or something?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how to play Mahjong,¡± the third man, Zheng, added, ¡°I do know how to play poker though, so here we are. Check.¡± His skin was light and he wore a yellow suit with snakeskin shoes. He had a scar over his left eye, his black hair was slicked back, and he had a short goatee. ¡°I know how to play. We could form a side game if aesthetics are that important,¡± the fourth, Saru, said, ¡°Though I have a decent hand, so I might want to wait. Speaking of, I¡¯ll raise.¡± His skin was tanned and he wore a white suit with a pink undershirt. His hair was dyed blond, and he had a casual slouch to him, his shirt loose and unbuttoned and his tie eskew. His words earned him annoyed looks from the other three men. Saru always had a good poker face, so if it was a bluff or if he was telling the truth, they had no idea. Regardless, the game continued. ¡°The game doesn¡¯t really matter, does it?¡± Kelton asked, ¡°We¡¯re not here to talk about poker.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, I like winning,¡± Zheng replied. ¡°Sure, winning is nice. Everyone likes a winner. So the question becomes, who¡¯s the biggest winner?¡± ¡°If we¡¯re going by number, Scorava¡¯s the higher one,¡± Baxter noted, ¡°Does that mean I should go first?¡± Saru chuckled at that. ¡°There are plenty of men with higher numbers. Women too. Perhaps even others! There¡¯s a sort of mystery to it once you look too close to the peak, isn¡¯t there?¡± ¡°Not really. Pretty sure there¡¯s a listing of who holds which number somewhere out there. Sides, you can see some of them wander around sometimes. Doesn¡¯t the seventh destroy cities or something?¡± Zheng shrugged. ¡°I have no idea. Isn¡¯t the seventh the one on Mars?¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re thinking of...fuck, the second? Maybe? Or was that Venus¡­¡± ¡°There are no active colonies on Venus, there¡¯s no way the seventh is up there,¡± Saru interrupted, then paused, ¡°I mean, ¡®less they¡¯re a robot. Or an alien?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t the seventh a woman? I swear I saw-¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get back on topic, please,¡± Kelton requested, ¡°Baxter, you were saying about Scorava?¡± ¡°Just that he has a high number. Doesn¡¯t mean much when there¡¯re people higher than him, if you really think about it. Only the top of the tops really matters.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s not quite right,¡± Zheng contradicted, ¡°If only the first mattered, then why even have other numbers? Why go up to a thousand if that was the case?¡± ¡°Because if there¡¯s a first, there has to be a second,¡± Saru replied, ¡°And if there¡¯s a second, there should be a third, and a fourth, and so on. Really, it¡¯s a miracle it only stopped at a thousand.¡± Kelton sighed, then slammed his hand on the table. ¡°Baxter, give your damn report.¡± ¡°Kay. Scorava¡¯s an old man. Ruled his corner for going on thirty to three hundred years, depending on who you ask and what standards you go by. The ideal Western criminal, ruthless and brutal while holding himself as classy.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that the ideal criminal everywhere?¡± Saru chimed, grinning, ¡°Everyone wants to look classy. It¡¯s a part of the style.¡± ¡°True, but he¡¯s earned the rep to go along with it. You know the type. Charming, philanthropic, untouchable. Big family who loves his money and authority, a proper patriarch.¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not hearing any differences between the Eastern and Western here.¡± ¡°Is there ever really any?¡± Zheng asked, then placed his cards down, ¡°Pair.¡± ¡°Sure there is. One has knights, the other has samurai,¡± Kelton replied, then placed down his own, ¡°Two pair.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°Trying to one up the snake, are we~? Well I only have a high card, so I suppose we should move on,¡± Saru added, still smiling despite his loss. ¡°Straight flush, all hearts,¡± Baxter stated, then continued as the chips were pushed his way and the cards were dealt by a frowning Zheng, ¡°The man has authority. People call him untouchable. Like I said, there¡¯s debate, but most agree he took his city three hundred years ago, and became completely untouchable thirty years ago. No government fucks with the family. Members don¡¯t get arrested, wearing their rose is as good as saying you have the Saint¡¯s backing. Counter is that if you don¡¯t uphold their standards, bad things happen.¡± ¡°Oh? What kind?¡± ¡°Family dies, friends get ruined, lovers turn to addicts, you wind up in debt. Things like that. Like I said, ruthless. Way people say it, the whole reason he rules Gambol is that he butchered the mobs that used to run it. Things like shooting Sico Viscomi in broad daylight on a tennis court, or drowning Sean Whitelow in an oil drum.¡± ¡°He did that personally?¡± Zheng asked, sounding more interested. ¡°Yup. Though, might¡¯ve been the oil drum was on fire? Might¡¯ve been Maynor he drowned¡­¡± Baxter shrugged. ¡°He earned his number. Only reason he¡¯s not higher is the Eleven¡¯s stonewalling him.¡± Kelton nodded. ¡°And his operations?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve heard as good as I have. Outta all the syndicates out there, Scorava¡¯s is the biggest. He has the two hundreds locked down, half the twenties work for him, word is that Paradiso and the Grindhouse are practically partnered with him, if not under his influence, and his eldest son¡¯s high ranked too. Number Seventeen, from what I heard.¡± ¡°So he¡¯ll be hard to take by any measure.¡± ¡°Man rules his city, has the whole state of Bailiwick under his thumb, and the rest of the New States let him be. Giochi Sanguinosi is big enough to ship across the world and out to the stars. Yeah, he¡¯s not gonna be easy.¡± Kelton nodded, then looked to Saru. ¡°And Morikawa?¡± ¡°About what you¡¯d think. He pays well, invests in tech, and has forty-thousand soldiers ready and willing to kill at his command~. Where Scorava rules the two hundreds, our Eastern upstart runs the four hundreds, and he¡¯s very happy to wield that ¡®death dealer¡¯ moniker, particularly as he cozies up to the Mausoleum~. Y¡¯know, some even call him the Young Yama, like a prince to the king~.¡± ¡°...And the fourth hasn¡¯t taken offense?¡± ¡°Yanluo hasn¡¯t butchered his entire company yet, so it doesn¡¯t seem like it? Though who knows~. An angry god doesn¡¯t usually give a warning when he¡¯s gonna cave someone¡¯s head in~.¡± ¡°He¡¯s playing with fire,¡± Zheng commented, ¡°Passion like that might get him far, but he¡¯ll burn out quick too.¡± ¡°Ha! Here you are, talking like an old man, but here we are in the three hundreds while he¡¯s up at a hundred and eight~!¡± ¡°And trying to take on a man two digits away from the top ten, like they¡¯re equals. He doesn¡¯t even have the decency to break the top hundred before taking on half the fucking world¡­¡± ¡°Sure, but he¡¯s getting closer. And I wouldn¡¯t say he¡¯s passionate, snake.¡± Saru smirked, his eyes flicking to Kelton. ¡°He¡¯s a man of calm, not passion. Cool and collected, and more than willing to work slow through the Kingdoms. I¡¯d say he¡¯s being safe, staying at such an off number. Who wants to be the hundred and eighth of anything, much less an immortal that low down? No crane¡¯s coming for a man like that~.¡± Kelton tilted his head, acknowledging the message. ¡°Something for later then. A weak man climbing high will always be kicked down.¡± ¡°So, how were the lands of the Pact?¡± Zheng asked, signalling the next topic. Kelton sighed. ¡°Discordant. Things are moving. The Maw is fractured, its teeth broken and its tongue cut out. The new upstart is likely coming here soon. She¡¯ll be a problem.¡± ¡°Not one we can¡¯t handle. Things have been quiet, the people are cowed, Paradise has reached out its hand to our lord, and Jiang seems to be wandering again.¡± ¡°Seems to be, or is?¡± ¡°...¡± Zheng frowned, setting his cards down, and took out his phone, flipping through whatever notes he took as Saru tried to check his cards. Kelton sighed, used to his colleague¡¯s obsessive notes¨Cnecessary for his job keeping the homefront secure¨Cand waved a hand, signalling the waitress to come over for another round of drinks. As she set them down, he took a moment to give her a glance. She looked lovely in the red and gold qipao she wore, cut in the right places to emphasize her cleavage and legs. As she moved around the table with a casual grace, Saru leaned the other way, grinning as he tried to get a glimpse through the slits on the sides of her dress. Kelton sighed again, even more used to Saru¡¯s tendencies, though he took some time to examine the lovely woman himself. She certainly looked fit and solid for a waitress, her black hair hanging down in a tight braid, though the brown skin tone was a clear indicator she wasn¡¯t the troublemaker Jiang, come back from wherever she wandered off to, so...hm. It wasn¡¯t unusual for people to wear masks, especially to keep the dust out, but the design was odd. A yellow-orange for the base and dotted with black spots, rather than curving lines...what kind of cat was that? A leopard, or a jag- All four men went still at the guns pressed to the back of their heads. ¡°You picked a bad hand to play.¡± The waitress plucked four of the cards from Kelton¡¯s hand, then moved to stand in the spot between him and Saru, holding them up for the table to see. ¡°...fuck. Fuck, fuck, you had the dead man¡¯s hand!?¡± Baxter seemed more upset at the two aces and eights on display than by the gun pointed at his head. ¡°Is this really the time for superstition?¡± Zheng drawled, his hands tense and fidgeting despite it. He looked a second away from jumping the woman, damn the consequences. Her, or the four figures standing around them, all in black and with guns aimed at their heads. ¡°It¡¯s always a good time for superstition,¡± the woman replied as she pulled the mask from her face and the wig from her head, showing her far shorter cut of orange-blonde hair, her golden eyes glinting bright in the lights, and the massive black tattoo of a snarling, Aztec jaguar taking up the right half of her face. ¡°Following the rules tends to let you live.¡± ¡°Well hey, no need to worry about that here, we all follow plenty of rules!¡± Saru said, his smile strained as he held his empty hands up, while Baxter gaped, his eyes wide. ¡°..F-Fuuuuuck. Gotta be kidding me...w-what, what the fuck did I do??¡± ¡°...Motherfucker. Motherfucker, these are the twenties, what?!¡± Zheng yelled. Saru flinched. ¡°Whoa whoa, what?? What-why would-what the fuck-¡± Kelton relaxed. It just came to him as Baxter shivered, Zheng snarled, and Saru gaped. ¡°It wasn¡¯t anything you did on your trip, Bax. We just didn¡¯t kill the right bitch.¡± His last card was a King of Hearts. He wasn¡¯t sure whether it was meant for him, or for his boss. Brother Tai was gonna be pissed... Jaguar¡¯s smile glinted in the lamplight. It wasn¡¯t a cruel one. ¡°Sorry boys. The game was rigged.¡±
There was nothing impressive about Shanfeng. Not to a woman like Jiang Xinyue, who had seen the supposed palace more times than she ever would have wanted. She could feel the eyes on her from every direction. The mocking grins, the snide commentary. They weren¡¯t anything new. The dragon¡¯s lapdogs thought themselves better than even the ranked because of their master¡¯s protection. She¡¯d killed plenty of them, but still the new ones came and made the same mistakes. Children in the bodies of adults, hoping the hand of their patriarch would let them live lives of glory. None of them stopped her as she strode through the main hall of their palace, with its high ceiling and large, crimson columns. None stopped her as she strode up the central stairs at the edge of the room, flanked by golden guardian lions, though she could feel the eyes staring at her ass. That wasn¡¯t unusual either, and she didn¡¯t mind it today, of all days. They could enjoy their glimpses of heaven before she sent them all to hell. Xinyue was dressed to impress today. Mostly out of ego, if she were honest. She wore a blue qipao with a high collar and an open back, baring the cold, dark dragon staring out at the golden-suited men of Shanfeng, some of whom couldn¡¯t help but shiver when they met the beast¡¯s azure eyes. High slits at her sides bared her muscular legs up to her firm thighs while the skirt of her dress, as it were, hung down to her ankles. A pair of black heels clicked against the stairs as she walked to the second floor and continued onward, their straps winding up and clinging to the pale blue-white flesh of her left leg, and the solid blue metal of her right. She wasn¡¯t entirely human; she hadn¡¯t been for a long time, and really, what member of the ranks truly was? It mattered little. Her black hair had grown out, and she currently kept it down and pulled back, falling to her back while confined by silver bands and letting those around see the black eyepatch that covered her heavily scarred right eye-socket. The silver was somewhat ostentatious, but she could tolerate the style for now. Her blue-painted lips quirked in a small smile as she thought of the Jaguar. For such a brutal woman, she had quite the playful sense of the world. It was nice to know not all of her seniors were absolute bastards. But that mattered little at the moment. She had a victory to achieve. Her metal fists almost tightened, but she kept them relaxed. She had lost her original arms long ago, much like many parts of her body she had to replace over years of fighting. All leading up to this moment. Standing at 6¡¯4¡±, Jiang Xinyue cut an impressive figure as she walked into the so-called throne room of Shao Tai¡¯s palace. Rather than an imperial throne room, it resembled more a lounge, filled with couches and cushions and littered with treasures. Chests decorated the walls, both in the treasured sense and the poster sense, and along with the King of Xintong, there was a full entourage of imbeciles wearing little and thinking less. Favored lieutenants and approved newcomers were allowed to partake in the pleasure of the dragon¡¯s domain as rewards for their service, a way to tie them with a more fervent loyalty to their master. He had learned more from the West than the East, and his palace existed as a pure symbol of that decadence. The air was filled with smoke as half-dressed men languished in comfortable cushions, drinking wine and filling their veins with opioids, willing to trade their health and sanity for a false bliss, all while their king reclined on his so-called ¡°throne¡±. Even now, Xinyue could not deny that Shao Tai was impressive. His chest was broad and heavily muscled, solid and chiseled in a way no natural man could maintain. Steroids and dehydration would let a bodybuilder get close to his physique, but even then, they wouldn¡¯t hold up to the sheer power he radiated. Standing, he was full three feet taller than her, an absolute giant of a man, though he was sitting now, reclining on the large couch he called his throne with two women on either side of him, both wearing pasties with his symbol on them, marking them as his as surely as the tattoo she could see on the third girl¡¯s striped ass. ¡°¡®Dragon¡¯s bitch¡¯...really?¡± Xinyue asked, looking from the woman with her head between his legs to the light-skinned and golden-haired man reclining in his seat, a cigar loosely held in the ringed fingers of his right hand. ¡°Was that a question, or did a dog come to yap at me?¡± Shao asked, tilting his head as he considered her with his copper eyes. A thick but well-trimmed mustache curled over his lips and thick sideburns descended down the sides of his face, though his hair was short and messy, sticking up almost like a mane and framing the twin spikes of copper sticking from his head. Crooked horns for a crooked beast. ¡°Not particularly. You know why I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°I certainly do. You want to take Maltese¡¯s place~. Tese, up.¡± He didn¡¯t gesture, but the woman stood without hesitation, the ears atop her head twitching at the order. ¡°You see that? Obedient, like a proper woman. You could learn a lot from her.¡± ¡°Sure. I see you still like tiger women.¡± Black stripes cut across the dyed-orange skin of the altered woman as she moved onto the couch, snuggling up her fellow thirio on Shao¡¯s right side. A languid tail hung over her shapely ass as pointed ears stuck out of the top of her head, their orange fur contrasting with the dark hair spilling down her back. The other two looked about the same, though the one on Shao¡¯s left had a white coloration instead. ¡°Course I do~ The pattern¡¯s nice, and there¡¯s a good feelin¡¯ to havin¡¯ a cute pet crawlin¡¯ all over you~.¡± His grin bared golden teeth, pointed and sharp. ¡°They were presents from Paradiso. Seems their queen is courtin¡¯ me~¡± ¡°You have a queen sending you concubines. Has Xintong opened its borders?¡± ¡°Maybe, maybe not. It¡¯s nice to be courted though. Have you ever seen Paradiso¡¯s Summer Queen? I wouldn¡¯t say no to a proposal from her~.¡± ¡°You let a slaver ply you with concubines, and in turn, you¡¯ll sell her your own people, who you claim to protect.¡± He laughed. ¡°I do protect them. I¡¯m their guardian deity, the immortal keepin¡¯ their mortal lives goin¡¯. I keep the other monsters out, and they pay me in turn. If some need to pay with their bodies, then that¡¯s all there is. A useless daughter or worthless son can be put to better use, for the sake of the family.¡± He took a slow drag of the thick cigar, blowing rings of smoke into the air. ¡°A people exist for their king. You¡¯d know that, if you were ever a real dragon. Instead, you¡¯re a carp, ever swimmin¡¯ for the dragon¡¯s gate.¡± ¡°Better a struggling carp than a collared pet.¡± ¡°So you say. And as I said, you can join ¡®em here anytime you like. Though after everythin¡¯ you¡¯ve pulled, you¡¯ll have to make it worth my while~¡± Her lips twitched, nearly becoming a smile as she raised an eyebrow over her sole remaining eye, itself a solid blue. ¡°I see. On a separate matter, the thirty-second has entered your country, and comes here now. You really should do better with the river patrols. The Augrin isn¡¯t a small ship by any means, and yet it docked easily.¡± Shao paused, then smirked. ¡°Is that so? You¡¯ve been payin¡¯ attention to her movements.¡± ¡°I have.¡± He started to chuckle. ¡°So that¡¯s what this is. Ha! Ah, should¡¯ve guessed. When it was the twin ogres obeying the Summer¡¯s whims, you had nothin¡¯ to fear. When it was the bozos before them, you couldn¡¯t care less. But now that there¡¯s an actual climber, a genuine threat, you¡¯ve finally hit that point I¡¯ve always wanted you to. You¡¯ve finally abandoned that worthless pride of yours and come crawling to me for protection, and all because some brat scared the shit out of you. ¡°Well, never let it be said I¡¯m not a generous man~. I¡¯ll work with you, sure. I might even break in that Altamirano bitch too, let you keep each other company. You¡¯ll be the first of my immortal wives. And all you gotta do, Xinyue, is come on over and give me a nice, long lick~¡± ¡°Eighty-seven times, I¡¯ve tried to kill you. I¡¯ve challenged you repeatedly, and been beaten. I¡¯ve shot at you form a distance, and been broken. In points of desperate rage, I¡¯ve even tried to poison you.¡± Oh how she relished the growing confusion on his face. ¡°None have worked. You survive, killing everyone in your way so you can get to me and smash my face in or tear my leg off or eat my fucking arms in front of me, you sick freak. You destroy things with reckless abandon, so any careful planning is just shit in the face of your overwhelming arrogance. You have too much back-up to beat, and your own powers were always too formidable for me to take. ¡°Still, no, shove your own cock up your ass and die. I wouldn¡¯t team up with you if you were the last warrior alive, and I sure as shit won¡¯t be your fucking bride you two-bit thug with three-bit dreams.¡± She held up a finger. ¡°But. You were right about me giving up my pride, because I was honestly sick to death of knowing I walked a world you still lived in, which is why I have a present for you. She snapped her fingers, and a box dropped to the floor in front of her. ¡°No bomb this time. I¡¯ll even open it for you.¡± Xinyue kicked the box, knocking it forward and spilling out four severed heads. Shao blinked, leaning forward to stare at four sets of sightless eyes. Afraid, angry, bewildered, and utterly calm, and all with gaping holes erupting in the centers of their foreheads. ¡°...bro-?¡± For a moment, everyone in the room could¡¯ve sworn they just saw their boss decapitated. Drunken and drugged men staggered up in their cushions as scantily clad women yelped and the three thirios lounging on the couch immediately rushed away from it in a burst of motion, scrambling to the floor and whirling to what they were sure was the sight of Shao¡¯s head flying off into the air and his neck erupting in a shower of blood. It wasn¡¯t quite that though. Shao¡¯s skin had turned golden, his invincible shield against all damage creeping up his body from the center of his chest just rapidly enough to protect him as he turned to stare at Jiang, who was crouched a few feet behind his couch, her arms still outstretched in a swing. In her hands was a massive, curved sword, its back serrated and its blade gleaming with blue light. It looked almost like a kitchen knife had fused with a saw, and she laid it casually over her shoulder as she turned to grin at Shao, her own sharp white teeth bared with an eager bloodlust. And Shao flinched, his neck erupting with blood along his right side before he clamped a hand to staunch the shower of red. ¡°Y...You-¡± ¡°Oh no, I totally forgot! Ugh, jeez, seriously, that was dumb of me! I didn¡¯t bring just one gift! Duh!¡± she said, still grinning wide and almost giddy as she set the blade on her back and spread her hands wide, before six severed heads dropped out of the air around her. ¡°I didn¡¯t just have your sworn brothers murdered in cold, impersonal blood by Scorava¡¯s twenties, who, bee tee dubs, I also sold your city to! I went out and hunted down all the old masters who trained you in those aggravating martial arts you practice! Oh, and then there was the sage who granted you holy guidance¨C¡± Another head drops. ¡°¨Cthe spring maidens who blessed you with golden might¨C¡± Three more heads. ¡°¨Cand every fucking captain in your triad that wasn¡¯t already here!¡± And there were a whole ton of heads now dropping and rolling to the floor, raining down as her grin got wider and her single eye glinted with maddened joy and rage. ¡°Do you get it yet, Tai? No more take backs here. No more abstaining, no clean hands, no protesting that you don¡¯t kill women, none of that! No getting away from this, here and now, you and I, we fight AND YOU DIE!¡± Her next cut splits the couch in half and he stumbles back, before gagging as a sharp cut splits along his chest. ¡°GAH! YOU EVIL B-¡± ¡°YES I AM! AND SO ARE YOU! NOW COME ON, HE WHO WOULD KEEP ME FROM PARADISE!¡± She swings her blade back, readying herself as Shao chokes down blood, shaking his head as gold roils across his body, lurching up in molten rage as solid rocks form in the air around him, spinning in preparation to launch. ¡°GIVE ME ONE LAST GOOD FIGHT! ¡°BEFORE I CUT OFF YOUR BALLS AND EAT THEM!¡± 31 30 - Dragons at the Mountain Peak
Match 19 #32 Nimia ¡°The Shelled Tiger¡± Altamirano Vs. #31 Jiang ¡°The Azure Dragon¡± Xinyue And #30 Shao ¡°The Golden Dragon¡± Tai
Inventory Darling - A mystical saber imbued with the powers of fire and ice; Fire LV 2, Ice LV 1 Death & Debt - Two .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums, formerly named Sonya & Cleon; imbued with fiery bullets. Lucky - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting]
32 -> 31
¡°Huh.¡± Nimia blinked, cut out of her reverie by the sudden burning at her neck. ¡°¨Chere in your arms tonight~! Oh Love, I could be lovin¡¯-Eh?¡± Greenie paused in her singing, turning the radio down as she glanced at Nimia. The two of them were dressed somewhat identically at the moment in black pantsuits¨Cmainly to look professional¨Cthough Greenie had a dark green undershirt, while Nimia went for more of a maroon. ¡°What¡¯s up, boss?¡± ¡°...I think one of the higher ranked just died.¡± ¡°You can feel that?¡± ¡°Yup. My neck burns every time the number changes.¡± ¡°Huh. That¡¯s a weird power. I thought psychic abilities were more like reading minds and telekinesis, not an instant sense of people dying?¡± She glanced to the side, pulling their rental car up the dusty street heading to the king¡¯s palace. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s psychic. Might be more...magic?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± ¡°Uh...magic¡¯s...y¡¯know, woobly. And psychic¡¯s...wibbly. They do different things.¡± ¡°...so which one lets you have a golden castle?¡± ¡°What? Uh...oh, wow.¡± Yeah, that was a golden palace. Actual gold, from the look of it, featuring on the tiles of its slanted roofs and the sprawling decorative dragons curling and spreading across every copper wall, all gleaming in the afternoon sun. Compared to the rest of the sunbaked town, it looked almost radiant. Aside from all the damage. ¡°...yeah, that¡¯s something.¡± ¡°What, you don¡¯t usually see shit like this from the other ranked?¡± ¡°None of them have had golden palaces, no.¡± Nimia stepped out of the car, taking note of the closed doors at the front, the broken windows up at the top, and the shirtless man impaled on the spiked steel and stone fence blocking off passersby from the palace at the center of their city. ¡°Looks like the party started without us.¡± ¡°Oh no, such a shame, no dozens of men trying to kill us...and uh, is that your dude, or no?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± She walked up closer, taking note of the black-haired man¡¯s open mouth and agonized expression as the fence speared through his back and out his chest. ¡°This guy feels more like your type.¡± ¡°...and that means?¡± ¡°Disposable grunt.¡± Greenie slumped, sighing. ¡°Yeah, love you too, boss...alright, uh, so, this mean I should stay with the car, or-¡± ¡°Sure, if you don¡¯t want any of the loot inside.¡± ¡°...¡± Greenie looked from the corpse to the huge building covered in gold. She didn¡¯t take a second look. ¡°Right, let¡¯s get to it then. Just don¡¯t let me die, please.¡± ¡°Eh, sure. Just make sure to take anything interesting looking. The Augrin could do with some decorating,¡± Nimia replied as she shoved the gates open and started walking up to the door, followed by her new henchwoman. Which was weird to think. She¡¯d never been one for teaming up with people, but here she was, getting followed around by a lackey, a toady, a minion, a...helper. It was fucking weird, basically, and as she kicked down the door, she resolved not to adopt too many of them, because damn there were a lot of corpses around here and she was in no way willing to become the type of person let others die for her sake. Annoying as it was, she¡¯d already resolved to keep Greenie alive, if just because the weird merc was someone trying to help her instead of kill her. Call it sentimentality. ¡°Well damn, this brings back memories, good and bad,¡± Greenie muttered as she looked around the wrecked interior, nudging one horizontally bisected corpse¡¯s head with her foot, ¡°These dumbfucks should¡¯ve run when they had the chance.¡± Nimia glanced back at her as she made her way through the smashed stone and broken bodies, some crushed under boulders while others were carved into chunks. While the outside still managed to look almost pristine, the inside had been completely torn apart. About half of the support pillars were completely ripped apart, so it was a miracle the place even still stood. ¡°Was that how you survived the first time?¡± ¡°What? No, I was on a job when you went after Tinley,¡± Greenie explained, following Nimia up the stairs, stepping around chunks of masonry and broken skull, ¡°Came back to find out the higher-ups in the company were all dead or abandoned it outright, so it went to me as a default, which, by the way, fuck you for. Being a commander sucked, especially since those assholes kept chomping at the bit to go after you¡­¡± ¡°Ahh, so that¡¯s why you went for Sawyer? He made an offer and all your mercs wanted to take it?¡± ¡°Basically. Called it honor, like you rolling up and gunning down Tinley was personal. Sure, I wouldn¡¯t take it nearly as well if I¡¯d been there and you¡¯d killed me, but as it is, I just didn¡¯t give a shit.¡± ¡°You gave a good attempt at trying to kill me though.¡± ¡°Well sure. A job¡¯s a job, and you pissed me off. Professional and emotional, let¡¯s call it.¡± ¡°Sure. Call it whatever you want.¡± The second floor was worse than the first. The first still had some semblance of structure, but here, there were massive, gaping holes in the floor, and the pieces still standing reeked with gore. ¡°Damn, there are a lot of heads around,¡± Greenie muttered, nudging another head with her foot, ¡°So, either the boss of this place got bored and decided to trash his house and cut off all his guys¡¯ heads, or his challenger did it.¡± ¡°Xinyue Jiang, the thirty-first, did this. Or maybe the thirtieth now,¡± Nimia replied, looking around the blood-soaked furniture. There were other bodies around, carved up or crushed, though there were a few she recognized, in a vague way. ¡°Those four are the three eighty-seventh, three sixty-third, three fifty-fourth, and three twenty-sixth.¡± ¡°Oh, those are recent kills.¡± Greenie tiptoed around some splintered chunks of gore and a man¡¯s severed lower half as she walked over to one with red hair and picked it up, examining the bullet hole erupting out the forehead. ¡°You can tell from how the blood dried. No withering from the heat yet either. But those ones, those are older...your Xinyue wanted to send a message. Heh, I can appreciate that style.¡± The carpet was so soaked through with blood and so caked with dust, it was hard to tell what color it was originally. Pieces of human bodies were strewn all over the room. It looked like the site of a massacre. It was the sight of a massacre. But it wasn¡¯t where the Ranked died. ¡°Look around here. I¡¯m going back to the first floor.¡± ¡°Huh? Uh, sure. I get first dibs on anything I want here, right?¡± ¡°You get first dibs on body parts, sure.¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t always...it¡¯s a habit, fuck off¡­¡± Greenie grumbled, but Nimia was halfway convinced she¡¯d start seeing a lot more skulls decorating her ship. Still, whatever. If her new minion had a weird thing going on, it wasn¡¯t Nimia¡¯s business. Hell, it wasn¡¯t like she didn¡¯t take trophies too. So while Greenie got to her looting and collecting, Nimia headed back downstairs, following the flow of battle. From every indication, the boss of Xintong was a geokinetic of some description. The huge chunks and spikes of rock tearing up his own building were good indicators of it. It really was a miracle the place hadn¡¯t fallen apart under his onslaught. There were spikes of stone piercing through the walls, crags like miniature mountains shooting up through the floors, massive boulders crushing what was once priceless treasures, and still no hint at all that he¡¯d even managed to hit his opponent. The first piece of Tai Shao she found was his hand, severed at the wrist and glittering with five golden rings, each set with a different gemstone. Was it weird that her first thought was to hand it off to Greenie as a present? Probably was. Didn¡¯t stop her from picking it up and keeping it though. Shao¡¯s palace had a courtyard at the back. High walls cut it off from the rest of the city, and it wasn¡¯t exactly impressive. Just a garden of sand and rock, stretching to a single-story building¨Csimilar in design and decoration to the main palace¨Cat its other side. Though maybe there had been something else there, at once point. A garden of plants, or just a place to hangout. As it was, all that was left was the bloody corpse of a naked man, strewn across a barren stretch of sand and craggy rocks. Nimia counted twenty-eight separate pieces of the former thirtieth Ranked, from where she was standing. Judging from the blood sprays and cuts, Jiang had been slicing into him over and over again throughout the chase their fight had turned into, wearing him down and bleeding him before cutting deep, up through his lower right, right above the hip, and up through his left collarbone. Though if that actually killed him, she wasn¡¯t sure. It was, at the very least, the crippling blow that let her cut off Shao¡¯s head, then split that in half. And cut his torso from his waist, his thighs from his knees, so on. She certainly hadn¡¯t let him stay standing. It was messy and flashy and more than a little gratuitous, but that¡¯s how some people could be, so she elected to ignore the gore as she strode across the bloodstained sand to the bronze door set within its copper walls. A pile of discarded clothes and nine silver rings sat in beside it. A rush of steam hit her as she opened the door. She blinked away the sudden heat, then stepped inside the sauna. ¡°Yo, Altamirano!¡± came the voice of Jiang Xinyue, who was relaxing at the end opposite the door. The tall, lean, muscular woman was grinning, baring sharp white teeth as she eyed Nimia. Her cybernetic arms, resting on the back of the bench she sat on, were a mix of blue metal and golden circuitry, as was her left leg, while curling, serpentine tails snaked over her shoulders and coiled around her breasts. The tattoos mirrored each other perfectly, though one was azure and the other gold. ¡°Come on in. Feel free to take a load off, it¡¯s just us girls here now.¡± Nimia grinned back, though she kept her eyes narrowed as she stared across the heater in the center. ¡°Yeah, I noticed. I think I¡¯ll keep my clothes on though. I saw what happened to the girls back in there.¡± ¡°Mmmh, not all of them. See, there were three tiger girls who sure were better at running than the rest of them. Sure, I could¡¯ve sliced them if I wanted, but no need to piss off the twenty-third this early on, right? Though you¡¯d disagree, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± She kept up her grin as the steam weaved around them. Her black hair, tipped with blonde, was cropped short, though it looked messy. Like she just hacked off her locks recently. ¡°I might. You could¡¯ve let them go.¡± ¡°I could¡¯ve, but why would I spare anyone choosing to work for that bastard?¡± Nimia shrugged out of her jacket. It was hot in the sauna. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t cost you anything to leave a fucking waitress alone.¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t, but I don¡¯t give a shit. Anyone working for Tai was fair game. If they didn¡¯t want to die, they shouldn¡¯t work for him, and don¡¯t act like you don¡¯t know how that goes. You killed a lot of people who took the best option they could in a shitty situation. Doesn¡¯t mean the choice wasn¡¯t shit on their part, and it doesn¡¯t mean you oughta feel guilty for it.¡± ¡°...Sure, it doesn¡¯t. I never said I wasn¡¯t a hypocrite.¡± Jiang blinked, then leaned forward, staring intently at Nimia. She had odd eyes. One was a bright blue, and the other was a sunny yellow. ¡°...I know those eyes. You¡¯re Yu¡¯s.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Qing and Yu. Our old names. There were others, sure, but we were both operatives under the Jie Ban Ren.¡± Jiang paused for a second, then chuckled, waving a hand. ¡°Sorry, sorry, I got ahead of myself. I might even be wrong. But you knew Hupo, right? Amber?¡± A vein in her temple throbbed as her green eyes widened. ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡± ¡°Ah ah, temper! You shouldn¡¯t curse your elders, young-¡± Her revolver was up in a second. ¡°Tell me what the fuck that means right now.¡± And Jiang laughed, raising her hands. ¡°Ah, definitely hers, yup. I wonder, would that make you a granddaughter? Or great granddaughter? Gods, the years get away from me...no, certainly a grandmother. The successors fell some time ago but not that long, all because the Huoxing can¡¯t quite stand us rising too high...ah, but I¡¯m rambling! Ha! Ah, sorry, my day¡¯s just been a fantastic one, and now I¡¯m not quite sure how to act!¡± ¡°...You could start by telling me what you meant about my...grandma.¡± ¡°Well, firstly, you should know I killed her.¡± The revolver, lowering for a second, snapped right back up. ¡°Ha! Ah, just as testy! But there¡¯s no need for that. She put up a good fight for someone pushing a hundred and ten. She didn¡¯t want to, how do they say it, go gentle into the night, so she requested a chance. If she won, she would be immortal. One of the oldest, physically, but immortal regardless, and she wouldn¡¯t fear death by age, sickness, or even starvation. But she lost, and received a death she could accept.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°...And you two were good enough friends for her to accept it?¡± ¡°At one point, yes. At another, I tried to kill her for attempting to abandon our commitments. Ironic, since I turned to mercenary work myself as things fell apart, but I digress. Our world is one of turmoil and death, and there¡¯s always someone trying to hold onto power. People long for stability, and the powerful grant that, until they don¡¯t. For us, we were the simple pawns of a great and powerful empire disguised as a united nation, raised to do as they willed, until the immortal leader was felled, the empire broke, and the logical things happened as stifled kingdoms rose up in territories they all called their own. Some even claimed the same land, which gave me a great deal of work! It was a long time coming, really, and I can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t expect it. Still, to be raised to murder from birth leaves you with very little options growing up. Not so little that you can¡¯t leave it though, and your grandmother did.¡± ¡°...right. Huh.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t know her, did you?¡± ¡°No...if...she was my grandmother, how old was she when she had my father?¡± Jiang shrugged. ¡°No idea. How old was your father when he died?¡± ¡°...¡± Nimia sat on one of the benches. Nearby, but not within reach. ¡°I don¡¯t remember. I didn¡¯t see him die.¡± ¡°Heh. I¡¯m sure whoever she settled down with must¡¯ve been worth it. It wasn¡¯t anyone I knew, I know that. Speaking of people I know, is Amber still alive?¡± ¡°Yeah. Last I saw.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re in the ranks. But you didn¡¯t kill her.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say I mind that. Who says a mentor needs to die for their student to surpass them? Idiots who don¡¯t value their own lives, that¡¯s who.¡± Nimia still cut off her hands. It was in the fight, but she did. And then she dropped her sword and didn¡¯t pick another one until Magalh?es. ¡°...How did you know her?¡± ¡°We worked in the same circles. She wasn¡¯t one of ours, if you¡¯re wondering. She was more of an opposition, the type who even assassinated some of our officials on behalf of the kingdoms crying for independence. Granted, most of them were pieces of shit, but it still looked bad on me that they died. You sure you don¡¯t want to undress? You¡¯re looking heated there.¡± ¡°Pfft! Aw, what, you¡¯re worried? I¡¯m aiming for your spot, remember?¡± ¡°Oh I know, but that¡¯s no reason to be a piece of shit. Tai was a piece of shit, and he died bad for it.¡± ¡°You really hated him, huh?¡± ¡°Yup. And now, after decades of trying to kill one piece of shit, just one damn asshole who held the rank above me, I¡¯ve finally done it¡­And I¡¯m fucking ecstatic!¡± She laughed, loud and happy. ¡°Ah, you know, I¡¯m glad you showed up right now. I genuinely am.¡± ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Picture the ranks like a mountain. You can start wherever you like on it. Many climb from the bottom, maybe get up higher with a guide...no, that¡¯s a bad analogy. Like a cable car, but you have to throw the driver out once you get there! Nimia snorted, and that seemed to encourage Jiang. ¡°But once you get to climbing, actually climbing, there¡¯s someone ahead of you. And the only way to get past them is to yank them down. And now imagine, just picture, a guy, right ahead of you, who decides to stand there. No climbing, no going further, he just stands and waits, and as you climb, he kicks you in the teeth. And you try again, and he kicks you again. And you try again, and he fucking kicks you, again. And it goes on and on, and you get fucking sick of it. ¡°So you try other shit that doesn¡¯t work. I don¡¯t know the analogy here, you could say shit like he has a bunch of animal friends to back him up, like a toad, crane, snake, and monkey, and they make it harder, or whatever. Point is, you get pissed enough to shout past him to the bunch of birds and cats up ahead and they come down and eat the other animals, and as he¡¯s freaked out by his friends getting eaten, you cut his fucking balls off and eat them!¡± Nimia paused, then glanced at Jiang¡¯s mouth. Was there meat stuck in her teeth¡­? ¡°ANYWAY! Point is, you kill him, and then there¡¯s a whole other climb to get to, and you might also be in debt to the most influential mob in the world now, but my point is, it feels good. It feels really good. And you...you¡¯re something interesting to me, because now I think I know what Jade felt.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Jiang stood and started to walk, inclining her head. On her back were two dragons, coiling around one another and glaring at Nimia with eyes of blue and gold. ¡°C¡¯mon. Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡± Nimia¡¯s shirt was soaked as she stood under the afternoon sun. Sweat was dripping from her face and soaking into the bloody sand beneath her feet, but she was a little more focused on the fact that flowers sprung up wherever Jiang walked. Genuine flowers, sprouting in hues of green and blue with every step she took, before she turned and audibly cracked her neck, starting to stretch. ¡°Told you you should¡¯ve stripped. Wet underwear clings in the worst way, seriously.¡± ¡°...eh. I¡¯ll deal with it.¡± She started to stretch too, watching Jiang all the while. The grass and flowers were spreading, turning the garden from sand to genuine greenery. ¡°...what is that?¡± ¡°Heh. Something special, kid. Earth has different meanings, depending on who you ask. So does Wood. But if you add the two together...well, you¡¯ll see. You¡¯re aiming for the top if you win, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, I am.¡± ¡°Nice. I cut myself off from the direct route. I still plan to climb, but I¡¯ll have to take a roundabout way. Who knows? Maybe I¡¯ll aim to kill the other three and become the dragon queen? I¡¯m missing black, white, and red, in that case¡­¡± ¡°Ah...what¡¯s that mean?¡± ¡°A separate thing from the guardians thing going on. You¡¯ll see.¡± Jiang took a slow breath in, then breathed it out, before clenching her hands into fists and pulling them back at her sides, elbows bent. Her body glowed, and the light burned bright before settling in a full set of armor that seemed to blur between solid green-blue wood, and yellow stone set in interlocking plates across her body. The helm stretched forward into the rough visage of a snarling, scaled dragon. It lacked eyes and any real details beyond the horns and sharp scales, but as she threw her head back, her maw opened in a powerful roar, before she crouched low, a massive blade forming in her right hand that she leaned across her back as a long, serpentine tail brushed the ground behind her, blooming flowers where it touched. ¡°...I¡¯m sure I will.¡± Nimia¡¯s armor was less flashy. It was simple and white cybernetic armor, similar to the one she wore in the Hun Zhan, though with an opaque visor and silver highlights. She summoned her own sword, twirling her darling in her hand before settling into a stance of her own. The two waited, watching for any twitch until finally, crow cawed, and the two surged forward. Their blades clashed, searing heat meeting billowing wind in a clash that scorched the growing plants, burning them to ashes before new grass rose to take their place. The swords met over and over again, both holding firm in their masters¡¯ grips. Their steel would not shatter, not in this moment. The pieces of flesh strewn around boiled and cooked, before being eaten by the growing, burning plants. Half a skull stared at the sight of struggling blades, its empty eyesocket watching the conflagration before a bright blue flower filled it up. Jiang struck fast and hard, and was delighted to see the young woman match her blow for blow. It was nice to know Tai would¡¯ve died to her too; the old dragon let himself get too slow and careless. She reached for what was once his, her Cleaver gleaming with yellow dust as she swung. The hard hit sent Nimia skidding backwards, and Jiang pressed the advantage, grass blooming at her feet as she leapt and swung. The balance was off though, heavier than she expected, and her blade sunk into the ground instead of Nimia¡¯s collar as the younger woman twisted free and swung for her head. She turned her Cleaver and yanked it up, spraying dust and grass into the air as Nimia jerked back, before grunting as the wind caught her shoulder, cleaving metal into the air. Her armor held firm¨Cfirmer than gilded flesh, at least¨Cand Jiang moved with the motion and tossed her sword skyward before darting forward to jab at her opponent, shifting stances with ease, only for Nimia to surprise her. Namely, by punching her in the face. The girl was good at dismissal, sending her sword away quick enough to meet Jiang attack, and the swordfight turned to a fistfight for a moment as both women blocked and punched and kicked up before Jiang caught her with a leg sweep and raised her hand to catch her Cleaver just in time to bright it down and utterly miss the girl, who rolled right out of the way. ¡°Cheeky brat!¡± ¡°SWING QUICKER NEXT TIME!¡± She¡¯d missed having fun with her fights. The instant Nimia was on her feet, Jiang rushed in again, swinging high to split her head from her shoulders, then pulling back fast to block a slice aimed at her gut. The girl could duck well too! It was respect. That was the difference in this battle. Nimia respected her as a foe, and Jiang couldn¡¯t help but do the same as their motions became faster and faster, both warriors nearly blurring as they cut and sliced and aimed high or low and swung hard and swung light. Her fire was brilliant, though she could see the untapped potential there. The rage and joy stoking those flames were but one part of her. She would need to admit sorrow. That was an important piece. It was almost astounding. She¡¯d hunted the yellow dragon for ages, and yet here came a young serpent, seeking the heavens, and wielding what was unmistakably the red dragon inside her blade. Perhaps someone had trapped it, long ago...ah well. It was something to regard if she won. And she still tried her damndest to win. It wouldn¡¯t be fair to Nimia if she didn¡¯t give her best. She drew on the powers she had learned, the wind that could rend any master, the plants that could entangle and bring close, and even the earth she could only now touch as dust. Her swings cleaved apart the walls of the palace, yet Nimia¡¯s flames bent them away from her. Her grass lunges at her legs, yet Nimia darted out of their grasp and seared them into ash. Her dust made her blade heavier and she struck with both strength and speed, yet Nimia seemed up to the task nonetheless. Jiang darted back, holding her own blade in one hand as though she aimed to sheathe it at her side, and rushed forward. Her eyes were narrowed in focus, looking for which direction her foe would take. Wherever she went, Jiang would cut, or else Nimia would face a guillotine carving through her chest¨C Nimia darted forward. She didn¡¯t wait, nor hesitate in the face of a charging dragon. She pushed straight forward and stabbed right into Jiang¡¯s stomach before she could even swing. The fire was agonizing, and she let out a harsh cackle as the heat surged through her body. ¡°HA! And I thought the sauna was bad! No wonder you handled it so well! You live with this type of fire all the time, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°In a sense, yeah.¡± The visor was opaque, but Jiang could feel Nimia¡¯s eyes on her, and the question in them. She couldn¡¯t see her smile, but Jiang did anyway. ¡°You got me. Good work.¡± And her Cleaver dropped from hands too numb to hold it, her burning arms returning to her sides. ¡°Thanks for giving me a good fight.¡± ¡°Same to you. I had fun.¡± She snorted. It hurt with the blade in her gut, but that was fine. ¡°I-I could tell, kid. You can always tell with this kind of thing. You¡¯ve got a good heat to you. Try to get in touch with your colder side though. Balance is handy in our lifestyle.¡± ¡°...sure. Any more advice? Or a request?¡± ¡°Hm...well, I¡¯d prefer it if you buried me away from Tai. I made his grave way too beautiful here, I¡¯m sorry to say.¡± The bright red flowers looked good though. The sun made them light up, almost like tiny flames. ¡°Oh, or cremate me. I¡¯m fine with that too. If you do though, put my ashes in a nice vase. Then maybe bury the vase? Something like that, I think. I¡¯ll be dead, so it doesn¡¯t matter too much to me, but a little respect is always nice. Oh, and one more thing. ¡°Cut out my heart and eat it.¡± Nimia paused, staring up at her. She was still crouched, still piercing her, still pushing flames inside her body to lick at her internal organs. ¡°...what?¡± ¡°Consider it a tradition. You have no wings or horns, young serpent, but you¡¯re aiming for the heavens regardless. You might not be a dragon, but I¡¯m sure you can get something nice out of it.¡± ¡°...that¡¯s...really weird to say, but...okay? I¡¯ll...give it a try.¡± Nimia frowned to herself, muttering. ¡°Nanomachines should cover blood poisoning, right?¡± Jiang waited for a few seconds, willing herself to stay alive for the sake of her own sense of humor, before grinning. ¡°Though I guess you could just stab it. That¡¯s also an option, since you have your fancy magic sword.¡± ¡°...oh. Uh...right.¡± She chuckled as the flames licked from her mouth. Her armor was finally starting to show signs of her damage, cracking and crackling with the heat. ¡°Heh, you¡¯re a good kid. Rise to the top.¡± ¡°I will.¡± She pulled her sword free, and in one swift motion, stabbed straight through Xinyue¡¯s heart. Flames burst in between the plates of Xinyue¡¯s armor. ¡°H-Ha...beautiful¡­¡± There wasn¡¯t anything to burn or bury. Just petals and ash, floating away in a spring breeze. Greenie seemed happy when Nimia got back to the car, sweat still clinging to her clothes. It was probably because of the gold statues she¡¯d strapped to its top and shoved in its trunk. ¡°...is it even going to drive with that much weight?¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°...Sure, alright. Shao and Jiang are dead. Jiang killed Shao, I killed Jiang.¡± ¡°Oh no, really? And here I was, thinking I was speaking to your ghost.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get full of yourself. I have way better people to haunt than you.¡± She sighed, putting a hand over her heart. ¡°Your words hurt, boss. They really do.¡± ¡°Oh, that reminds me. I got you a present.¡± She tossed the hand to Greenie, then felt her face twitch when the freaky merc immediately beamed in genuine joy. ¡°Oh damn! Thanks-Ah, wait, this was a joke thing, you were trying to scare me...I-I¡¯m not excited about the hand, I was-It¡¯s the rings that were-Shut up.¡± ¡°I said nothing.¡± ¡°You were thinking things.¡± ¡°I think a lot of things. Like how we should head back to the ship before you start rubbing your face with it or something.¡± ¡°Fuck you!¡± ¡°Eh, later.¡± Greenie scowled, then paused as Nimia got in the car. ¡°Wait, actually? Hold on, boss, really? Was that-Did you actually mean that legit, or...h-hey, don¡¯t start the car, don¡¯t leave me here!¡±
¡°I had a shot,¡± Crow murmured from rooftops away, watching the gold-laden car struggle under the weight of its new cargo through the scope of her rifle. It was moving slowly. She¡¯d shot faster moving targets before. ¡°And we weren¡¯t told to take it,¡± Owl replied, pushing herself to her feet and adjusting the lenses on her mask to reduce magnification. The two women, the 29th and the 28th, were dressed similarly, but not identically. Crow, the smaller of the two, wore all black; a black cloak with a hood over a black ballistics vest, black pants with black kneepads, and black combat boots. The bird mask she wore had a long, black beak, and black lenses. It should¡¯ve been sweltering under the sun, but she didn¡¯t feel the heat. Not for any magic reason; she just had decent thermal regulators. Owl, the taller of the two, wore a mix of white and brown in contrast. Her mask, modeled after a barn owl, was white with a far shorter beak, while her hood was brown. She wore a waistcoat studded with bronze buttons, a long skirt with tights underneath, and knee-high boots. She felt warm. It was a good heat. ¡°I could still kill her from here,¡± Crow insisted, still laying flat. Her finger wasn¡¯t on the trigger, she was smarter than that, but it itched to move there. ¡°You could. Are you going to?¡± ¡°...Give me the order, and I will.¡± Owl pressed a gloved finger to her ear. ¡°Jaguar. The Azure Dragon is dead. Recruitment failed. Requesting order regarding the elimination of Altamirano.¡± ¡°Sorry girls, orders are the same,¡± the 25th replied, her voice in good humor as it sounded out in both their ears, ¡°Altamirano doesn¡¯t die yet. Crow, are you worried about her coming after you?¡± ¡°...I just don¡¯t see why we aren¡¯t killing her now. We have the means and opportunity.¡± ¡°So you think, but she dodged a sniper shot before. If you two get into a running battle with her, things could get complicated, and you know how bad complications can be.¡± ¡°I do. I still want to shoot her.¡± ¡°She¡¯s coming for you first, so you might have a good chance at it. Ah, hold on, no, don¡¯t let that shake you. Deep breaths.¡± Crow¡¯s breath had barely hitched. Still, she took those breaths. ¡°Good girl. Believe me, we¡¯re not throwing you to her. She¡¯s bound to catch up at some point, but we have plans we want to put in place first. We¡¯re operatives of the Scorava Family, and that means we have duties. It also means we take care of our own. I promise, you won¡¯t die to her.¡± ¡°...Understood. When do we kill her?¡± ¡°Soon. We have some jobs before then. The Family will handle Xintong. I want you two moving out, meeting at Alpha Zulu, copy?¡± ¡°Copy.¡± ¡°Copy, though I have a request,¡± Owl said, earning a glance from Crow. ¡°Say it.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a nice looking restaurant I wanted to try while we¡¯re in the area. May we?¡± There was a huff of amusement. ¡°Request granted. Just try to leave the country by today. We don¡¯t want Altamirano wandering into you two by accident.¡± Owl huffed in turn, though hers was markedly more annoyed. ¡°It happened once.¡± ¡°You drowned a woman in a bowl of soup.¡± ¡°She was screaming too much.¡± ¡°I know, I know. Enjoy yourselves.¡± The comms cut, and Crow grumbled as she pushed herself to her feet. ¡°We should still kill her. We¡¯ve killed people without orders before.¡± ¡°Yes. We call that collateral. The Scoravas don¡¯t like it. Come along. You¡¯ll feel better once you eat.¡± Crow grumbled again, but she followed along with Owl, willing to drop the subject. Still, she did mutter a curse under her breath in hopes Altamirano¡¯s luck would go bad. It probably wouldn¡¯t, but it made her feel less irritated.
¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± Nimia and Greenie stared at the waters of Hengwei Harbor. They were shiny under the sunshine; not clear, by any means, but pretty enough to look at. Still, that wasn¡¯t exactly the issue here. ¡°...WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BOAT!?¡± E4 - A Glimpse of Paradise
Match 20 Tales of Friendship Starring: Giselle Summerton
¡°It¡¯s something I¡¯m worried about,¡± Giselle explained to the screen in front of her desk, ¡°I know your operatives are capable, but I¡¯ve already lost several of my best in attempting to put down the climber early.¡± ¡°You lost several of your best because you decided pillaging Safrazo was a priority. Forgive me if I lack sympathy for your losses,¡± replied the stylized image of a bright red rose, wreathed in scarlet thorns on a white background. Giselle¡¯s face remained set in a calm, serene smile, but her eye twitched behind the modified plastic. Her face wasn¡¯t the first face she had. It wasn¡¯t the second either. It, like most of her skin, was more like a shell. A white shell, flexible in some ways, rigid in others, and shiny where skin naturally wouldn¡¯t be. She was dressed professionally, covering her artificial, doll-esque joints and the black diamond patterns crossing up her arms and legs, along with the pink 23 printed in flowing cursive on her left collarbone. Her elbow-length fuschia gloves were largely concealed by the long sleeves of her salmon blouse, itself paired with a cerise vest and a maroon string tie. Her skirt, long enough to drape over her calves, more matched the jacket held by one of her nearby slaves, being primarily crimson with black accents, and she further added to it with matching heels and carmine pantyhose. Straight blonde hair spilled down her back, perfectly straightened and groomed so there wasn¡¯t even a hint of ruffling or curls as her scarlet lips smiled back at the Red Rose of the Scorava Family. ¡°You are forgiven, Don Scorava. Though it pains me to lose two of my best, I aim to take it as a lesson, going forward. I allowed my wants and fears to get the better of me. A weakness that has cost me much so very quickly. Yet that is why I ask for your support in this trying time. A renegade threatens our businesses, and as I have been a friend to you, I do so wish you¡¯ll be a friend to me.¡± ¡°No one loves a slaver, Diamondback.¡± ¡°...¡± Her smile didn¡¯t drop. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± ¡°I¡¯m weighing my options in regards to our continued affiliation, Miss Giselle. Your ventures are profitable and make for a decent way of removing persons of issue. But there¡¯s an inherent revulsion many feel when it comes to the idea of other human beings forced into labor. Especially sex work.¡± ¡°They¡¯re disgusted with the idea, not the reality,¡± Giselle countered, ¡°The majority of my organizations¡¯ sales are for physical labor. Businesses need workers to produce all those amenities civilization requires, and it cuts costs to simply purchase permanent workers rather than rent employees.¡± ¡°What a fun way to describe it. It doesn¡¯t distract people from the images a practice like this conjures. The thoughts of human beings, packed like sardine cans inside of ships taking them from their homes to lands they never knew to serve at the pleasures of masters who regard them as chattel at best.¡± ¡°Every master regards their slaves as chattel, whether they pretend to be employers and employees or accept their reality. And besides, we don¡¯t use boats anymore. Planes are faster and there''s less hassle with customs and ¡®freedom fighters¡¯.¡± She allowed herself a small smirk. ¡°It¡¯s far harder to rob a plane than a ship, especially when you want the cargo aboard to survive.¡± ¡°So you say. Sinking human lives to the bottom of the ocean to avoid controversy is a viable tactic, sure. I just don¡¯t like the risks.¡± ¡°What risks? Half the time, we tell these people in piddling wasteland settlements that they can travel to new lands of opportunity, and then don¡¯t let them leave. From there, it¡¯s just training. The Kingdoms are wealthy and don¡¯t care for the silly moral qualms of the Victorians. To obey an authority and serve your community is better than to live in feckless freedom, or so I¡¯m told.¡± ¡°You would know, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± said the mobster to the slaver in her lavish office, with wide windows displaying the tamed, tropical landscape around Pariso, ¡°I¡¯m not going to help you. My people will handle Altamirano. You can stay out of it, and we¡¯ll see how I think about our arrangement afterward.¡± Her eye twitched again and her smile strained. ¡°What¡¯s there to think about? My business is a source of profit for your organization. We share revenue, you guarantee connections and protections. How many of your businesses use our labor?¡± ¡°Too many. I¡¯ve begun phasing them out, for the most part. Paid employees are an investment. Slaves are a liability.¡± ¡°...They are very much not though, especially outside of the States! Why, you could-¡± ¡°It¡¯s better to be loved than feared, Miss Giselle. What motivation can I give a slave except for freedom? A slave can¡¯t profit because he can¡¯t own a thing.¡± ¡°Well, no, see, you give them small amenities, particularly temporary things, to get them indebted-¡± ¡°Like paying them money. Like an employee.¡± ¡°Yes, but you have to do things like have protections in place and let them go home at the end of the day! That¡¯s not economically feasible!¡± There was a sigh through the screen. ¡°Why don¡¯t we save this talk for later? You can regale me with the benefits of owning human beings, and I can pretend your business doesn¡¯t disgust me on a visceral level.¡± ¡°Wh-But-¡± She stood up, actually letting herself scowl. ¡°You¡¯re the one that¡¯s supported me all this time! You profited! You can¡¯t tell me you¡¯re getting cold feet now!¡± ¡°I did profit, sure. I worked alongside a number of people I couldn¡¯t stand to amass my power. I¡¯m not having you killed, Diamondback, I¡¯m just not interested in your line of work anymore.¡± ¡°So what, I¡¯m no longer an investment to be protected?! Are you just going to let Altamirano kill me!?¡± ¡°Not at the moment, no. I¡¯m not interested in your business, so I won¡¯t be ''investing''. You still have other investors though, so I¡¯m sure you can stay afloat if you really want to stick with this messy business. As for Altamirano, she¡¯ll be handled. My best women are lined up behind you, so I¡¯m not interested in letting her get a shot at you either. Just settle down and wait it out. You¡¯ll be fine. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t go courting anymore kings. Shao isn¡¯t the last one of them I¡¯ll be dealing with before the year is up, and I would appreciate it if you keep out of the line of fire.¡± ¡°...¡± The silence was expectant. Giselle glared at the rose. ¡°...I¡¯ll do that.¡± ¡°Good. Have a nice afternoon, Miss Giselle.¡± The rose disappeared, leaving three flashing ellipses in its place as the call ended, before they were replaced by shattered glass as Giselle pitched a paperweight through it. ¡°MOTHER FUCKER!¡± she screamed a second later, gripping the edge of her desk and flipping it, ¡°THAT CONDESCENDING ASSHOLE! WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS?!¡± She punted her desk, sending it skidding across the room, then whirled to shoot one of her butlers through the head, her revolver¨Cprimarily white with violet engravings and twin purple ?¡¯s set on either side of its ivory handle¨Csnapping to her hand in an instant and shooting straight through the full-head leather mask the topless slave wore. Hell, her personal slaves wore barely anything, just thongs and masks, along with cufflinks and bowties. Better to show off their muscular chests and what they were packing at their crotches. All of her personal slaves were male¨Cmainly because she preferred dick, though there was a fantastic rush she got at dominating a worthless peon that should be physically stronger than her¨Cand they were all, ultimately, disposable and interchangeable. A dairy farm needs only one breeding male, so the rest are expendable; the same logic applied to mankind. Then Giselle realized she shot the slave she had holding her jacket and let out a frustrated growl at seeing the garment stained with blood. Sure, it was red now, but blood always died to such an ugly brown¡­ ¡°Take that to get cleaned, or it¡¯s your head next!¡± The surviving butler present bowed low, then did as she commanded as the door to her office slid open. ¡°Huh. The meeting didn¡¯t go well?¡± Giselle scowled and fired again, her bullet plinking off the electric blue personal shield her primary operative had installed. ¡°What the fuck do you think!? Damned dickless bastard had the fucking balls to say my business is shit! Evil, abhorrent, all that pussy shit, and about MY fucking business! Who the fuck does that asshole think he is?!¡± ¡°The CEO of Giochi Sanguinosi?¡± Mihail offered, tilting his head like the brainless fuck he was. So she aimed lower and shot the blond moron in the crotch, earning a flinch even as he grinned. ¡°Ah, alright, you¡¯re a lot madder than usual, good to know.¡± ¡°OF COURSE I FUCKING AM! THAT ASSHOLE THINKS HE CAN JUST DROP ME LIKE A SHITTY EX! I¡¯VE MADE HIS FUCKING SYNDICATE BILLIONS! YOU THINK THAT DUMB FUCK WOULD BE HALFWAY AS WEALTHY IF IT WASN¡¯T FOR ME!?¡± Mihail shrugged, then took a pack of cigarettes from his inventory and handed one over, before lighting it with a blue lighter so she could take a drag. Stupid as he was, Mihail Lupul had his uses. Aside from being a handsome fuck. And he was decent to look at. Tall, fit, with fair skin and hair as blond as honey, slicked back to droop over his neck. At the moment, he wore a white tank top and beach shorts, showing off his well-sculpted chest, arms, and legs. Almost literally sculpted, since a good chunk of his body was cybernetic, still colored the same as his natural flesh. Even his narrow jawline was made of a visible steel, which added a nice shine to his clean-shaven face. She probably could¡¯ve made a mint selling him as a fucktoy to some wealthy heiress, but there were a few things getting in the way of that. For one, she¡¯d invested way too much in his upkeep at this point for any sale to be worth it. There were two types of people in the world: sales and investments. A sale was one time thing, a peon traded for profit, while an investment was a person of value who brought in more profit the longer they were maintained. The main reason Giselle was fucking furious with Scorava was that she should be an investment for anyone, but the fucker was treating her like a cheap sale. That shit rankled, and she¡¯d already decided she¡¯d make him pay for it. For another, as noted by the 24 at his neck, barely covered by the collar marking him as hers, Mihail was the Twenty-Fourth Ranked. One number below her. By all rights, he was the biggest threat to her life around, but she didn¡¯t fear him in the slightest. Much like the once miserably overgrown landscape she¡¯d built her dominion over, he was tamed, and she had contingencies to make sure he stayed that way. Carrots and sticks for a man who enjoyed both. And last, no one would buy him once they saw his eyes. Mihail had cold eyes. He smiled, he laughed, he had an easy look to him, but his eyes were murderous. It didn¡¯t matter if the skin around them was creased into a smile; the eyes themselves were violent, tiny pupils pinpricked against ice-blue tundras. She liked his eyes. They wouldn¡¯t lie to her. ¡°Faaaaaahhhh...that damn asshole¡¯s going to pay for this.¡± ¡°How¡¯s that, boss?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll know. Come on, I have other calls to make.¡± She started walking to her private elevator and he fell into step behind her, a cheerful smile on his face. Mihail liked the way his boss moved, the way she walked. The sheer murderous rage boiling up under her was a delight as she moved through her mostly empty office. His boss was a wealthy woman, but her office only had its desk and screens, because it was her place of business, not her place of comfort. ¡°The tigers are back from the dragon¡¯s den, boss. Came back with a recent flight.¡± ¡°Good, we¡¯ll talk to them first.¡± She dismissed the revolver in her grip and brought out her phone as the elevator started moving down, the glass wall letting her see out into her resort. There was no better word for it, really. Calling it a hamlet, village, even a town was inaccurate, because it wasn¡¯t some shitty little nothing of a settlement out in the wide world. It wasn¡¯t meant for anyone other than those her organization favored, whether they might directly work for her, or simply paid enough to enjoy her luxuries. Of the four skyscrapers taking up the beachside of her coastal resort, hers was the tallest. The smallest was reserved for guests, the tallest was for her and anything she felt she should have direct access to, the second-tallest was meant for her Ranked operatives, and the third contained her labs. From her current position, she could see out at her harbor, and at the Augrin parked at one of her docks. ¡°Y¡¯know, Monson probably would¡¯ve been good on our side,¡± Mihail noted, peering over her shoulder at it, ¡°Those ships of his would¡¯ve made him useful, yeah?¡± ¡°Bah! That fucking upstart tried putting himself up there, but he couldn¡¯t make it. Skalk had more to offer just in terms of manpower, nevermind the mutagens. What the fuck would Monson give us? Boats? I already have boats, and I¡¯ve done the pirate shit better than he ever could.¡± ¡°Huh...you¡¯d look good in a captain¡¯s hat.¡± ¡°Of course I fucking would, I¡¯ll look good in anything,¡± she snapped back, then started walking again as the elevator dinged at her indoor pool, ¡°Oi, bitches! Form up!¡± There were some immediate splashes of water as her three operatives quickly formed up in front of her, backs straight and eyes forward. Water still dripped from their barely covered bodies, but that wasn¡¯t an issue unless they got it on her. The black, two-piece bikinis did look good when contrasted against the orange and white; something to keep in mind for future sales. ¡°Report.¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± one began, ¡°Tai Shao and his organization was destroyed by the renegade, Xinyue Jiang. We were unable to retrieve any of his physical assets at the time, and his digital assets have been seized by Giochi Sanguinosi.¡± She felt her temple throb. ¡°That fucking asshole did that deliberately...fucking making me out to be a goddamn issue, and now cutting off my lines of fucking support¡­¡± ¡°What about Crosswhite, boss?¡± Mihail asked as he walked up to the second orange one, staring down at her with interest, ¡°He still buys a lot.¡± ¡°Crosswhite will stay as one of our customers, that I¡¯m sure of. For a fucking robotics bitch, he prefers human labor. Probably gets off on it...fuck, now I¡¯m even more pissed off¡­¡± She scowled, glaring at the placid face of her genetically modified operative. ¡°And how about you, huh? How do you feel about this?¡± ¡°Frustrated, ma¡¯am. I worked well on Tai, and now I will likely require separate modifications for my next assignment.¡± Giselle eyed the stoic bitch for a moment, before shrugging. Clones always weirded her out. Easier to understand natural born humans, they always had a set of behaviors to them. Clones though, they were off. Didn¡¯t mean she wouldn¡¯t use them though. ¡°Did he name you?¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am. I1 was designated Maltese. I2 was designated Bengal. I3 was designated Siberian.¡± ¡°Why was your designation ¡®I¡¯? That¡¯s annoying to hear.¡± ¡°I1 was led to believe it referred to the term Infiltrator, ma¡¯am, however, an alternative proposal is that we are the ninth generation of genetically modified cloned humans.¡± ¡°Really? On nine already...well, whatever. You¡¯re not nearly cost-effective enough to replace the generic laborer.¡± ¡°My apologies, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°What kind of name is Maltese anyway? It doesn¡¯t make me think of a tiger, more like a bird or some shit.¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am. I will divert to Primary Three to undergo proper reassignment surgery.¡± ¡°No, not yet, I¡¯m still fucking talking, dumbass.¡± Giselle sighed irritably, then cupped her chin in thought. ¡°Bengal and Siberian though, that could be marketable...Yeah, that might¨C¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. She paused at the audible crunch and blood spray, then snarled and whirled to glare at Mihail, who had his fist all the way through I2-Bengal¡¯s head. The dead clone was still standing mostly straight, though its legs had bent with the force of Mihail¡¯s fist, which was dripping blood and brain into her fucking pool! ¡°THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?¡± ¡°Eh?¡± He blinked, looking to her and not pulling his forearm from the clone¡¯s head. ¡°You just said you didn¡¯t like Maltese.¡± ¡°THAT¡¯S FUCKING BENGAL, YOU DUMBFUCK!¡± Giselle snapped, then glanced at Maltese, who was still staring at her instead of the sudden corpse. ¡°That was Bengal, right?¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Fucking great!¡± She snarled, scowling at Mihail again. ¡°Why the fuck would you even do that?! Those shits cost money, you stupid bastard!¡± ¡°Yeah, but so do slaves?¡± ¡°These cost more money, you fucking moron! And you¡¯re getting fucking skull chunks in my pool!¡± ¡°Ah, sorry. I thought we¡¯d only need the two, like the twins.¡± He pulled his fist back and it dropped straight into the water, soaking it with red blood and absolutely ruining the fucking chemical balance. ¡°Though I did get my skull-punch down right. Usually they go flying. You need leverage to get it through without the flying part. Or...torque? Is torque the word?¡± ¡°I DON¡¯T FUCKING KNOW! WHY THE FUCK WOULD I KNOW THAT?! Fuck, how much fucking money was that down the drain...fuck, I didn¡¯t even spring for the double aging with these ones, they¡¯re fucking naturally raised, fuck¨C¡± Giselle paused, then looked to the passive clones still standing there, studying them for any hint of reaction. They were meant to be emotionally dead, but if they reacted to the death in their midst negatively¡­ After fifteen solid minutes of watching the clones and ignoring an increasingly bored Mihail, who pulled out his phone to start playing some stupid game, Giselle nodded. ¡°You¡¯re Bengal now. That one keeps Siberian.¡± ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am,¡± Bengal answered. Giselle looked to Siberian, who answered, ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am,¡± in the exact same cadence. Fucking creepy. ¡°Get a butler to fish that out,¡± Giselle commanded, pointing to the useless wreck, then walked to Mihail and snatched his phone, chucking it into the bloodsoaked pool. ¡°And quit fucking around!¡± ¡°Aw, my Ereshkigal¡­¡± Whatever the fuck that was, Mihail shrugged it off a second later and followed Giselle to the lift, where she promptly slammed his face into the glass. Not hard enough to shatter the glass, but enough to smash his nose. ¡°You don¡¯t fucking kill without my say-so, GOT IT?!¡± she snarled, grinding him against the glass. ¡°Nhhhhghh...mn, h-hyeah, b-b-boss¡­¡± She made a point to yank him back and smash his head against the glass two more times, before letting him drop. He stood a second later, gripping his nose and snapping it back into place, before pulling out a comb and using it to fix his hair as blue blood poured from his nostrils. Giselle was magnanimous enough to ignore it, though she made a mental note to further dock his pay as he dripped blood across her floors. There was so much fucking blood in her business, she almost thought she should¡¯ve had that Grindhouse name. But fuck that. Vivian could keep her fucked up surgery fetish, Giselle was more interested in profit. And besides, everyone wanted a taste of Paradise. It¡¯s what drew her current guest, relaxing in a luxury suite, to her coast.
Tusk let out a low moan as the firm fingers worked their way into her back, pressing the tension out of every joint. She should¡¯ve felt vulnerable in the lair of one of the great Raider Queens, but she just couldn¡¯t help but feel good. Getting waited on, hand and foot, by muscular and scantily dressed men wasn¡¯t ever one of her dreams, but now that she was experiencing it, she had to wonder how she could have ever been ignorant of such a life. She wasn¡¯t an idiot though. Her suitcase of vials was still well in sight, even as she rested on the table, and she still had weapons and armor in her inventory, even as she relaxed with only a towel to provide some semblance of modesty. Not that she was especially interested in keeping it on with the absolute hunk tending to her¡­ Then the door to her room opened and her eyes snapped open with it, immediately looking towards the woman entering. Even then, she didn¡¯t feel the thrill of fear she thought she might at coming face to face with Giselle Summerton. Even with how strange that face was. ¡°Good afternoon, Queen Summerton,¡± she greeted, smiling faintly, ¡°I apologize for not standing. Your servant isn¡¯t letting me.¡± ¡°Not my servant, my slave. You can call them butlers if you really want to be coy about it, but let¡¯s not bullshit each other.¡± Tusk shrugged. ¡°Sure. May I stand, your majesty?¡± Summerton inclined her head, and the masseuse stepped back, holding his oiled hands behind his back and baring his muscular chest, which was still quite a nice sight. Though she had to admit, the man stepping in with Summerton was a nice sight too. The cyborg look was a good one for him, especially with that wet, blue tank top clinging to his pecs¡­ ¡°Are you standing or what?¡± Tusk immediately stood, bowing her head. ¡°My sincere apologies, your majesty.¡± ¡°Sure sure, whatever. Look, you caught me in a bad mood, but it¡¯s turning to a good one just from seeing what you brought, so take that as you will. That¡¯s the case then?¡± ¡°Yes, your ma-¡± ¡°Yeah, no, stop with the majesty shit, it¡¯s getting annoying. Ma¡¯am works, master or mistress also does.¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± Tusk replied, nodding with a neutral expression, just in case Summerton took offense to her smiling, ¡°I hope it''s an adequate payment for my stay here.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an adequate payment for a lot of things, girly. So sure, I¡¯ll keep you around.¡± ¡°Without selling me, or owning me as a slave.¡± ¡°I know the terms, I already signed off on it,¡± Summerton replied, sounding irritated again as she brought out a tablet from her inventory and tossed it to Tusk, who promptly checked the contract displayed, thoroughly looking through every part of it. From every indication and wording, she was fully protected in her new role as an executive in Paradiso, in all its forms. Protection from the raiders that made up the organization, protection from enemies of the organization, protection from sale, execution, dismemberment, assault, or further inconveniencing, guaranteed protection from affiliated organizations¨CAll around, she was set in luxury. ¡°I appreciate your thoroughness, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Yeah yeah. Mutagens, now.¡± Tusk nodded, then handed over the locked case. ¡°Who should I send the code to?¡± ¡°Me. Print it here.¡± Tusk nodded again, then wrote out a simple string of symbols and digits that would let them open the complicated lock on it. Whatever happened from there wasn¡¯t her problem. ¡°Good. You¡¯re a decent investment so far. Keep at that. We might need someone who knew chimeras to get this project off the ground.¡± Summerton smiled, putting a hand on Tusk¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I think we¡¯d both prefer if that was you, right?¡± Tusk smiled back. So she¡¯d need to keep being useful then. That wasn¡¯t unexpected, and she had some other things from back in her days in The Maw she could use. Memorized formulas and codes, just in case. ¡°I look forward to working with you further, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Same here. One more thing. Did you happen to grab a revolver from Altamirano?¡± ¡°No, ma¡¯am. I didn¡¯t have the opportunity.¡± Tusk didn¡¯t let her surprise show. Why was the revolver significant? ¡°Shame...well, it¡¯ll come to me sooner or later.¡± Summerton smirked, completely unphased by the idea of Nimia coming for her. Which, well, she was better funded, protected...but maybe Tusk should start making contingency plans. Just in case. ¡°For now, enjoy your stay here. I have another meeting to attend to, but I can leave you with some company, if you want it.¡± Tusk paused, then looked to the tall, muscular man who had come in with Summerton. The one sporting a very blatant tent in his shorts as he stared at Tusk. ¡°...I...wouldn¡¯t mind that.¡± ¡°Good. Mihail, entertain our new executive. No touching her in ways she doesn¡¯t want to be touched, got it?¡± ¡°Yeah boss,¡± he replied, before stepping closer as Summerton exited, pulling his top off in one swift motion and smirking, his firm pecs outright glistening in the candlelight. ¡°So, on the table, or on the bed?¡± ¡°...I think the bed would be better.¡± Tusk had a feeling she would like staying here. For however long it lasted.
Giselle pressed a button on her remote, watching as the view through her office windows gradually tinged towards a warm sunset, hours before it would occur naturally. She wanted the proper ambience, and the orange sky felt appropriate when dealing with her...colleague. Or at the very least, her representative, who sat at the provided tea table and sipped the glass of iced tea provided with a mockery of what good manners could be. She held it with a false daintiness, her pinky out, to contrast with the fact her sandaled feet were up on the chair she squatted on, pretending to drink carefully from it as her long tongue lolled out of her mouth and into the liquid. Vivian LoVullo had a thing about making genetic aberrations, and Tongue was no different. In many ways, she looked like a normal woman, albeit one with pink skin and cherry-red hair cut into a mohawk. Even that wasn¡¯t particularly unusual, what with skin- and hair-dyes existing and mohawks being fairly popular among raiders and punks, but on closer inspection, one could notice the surgical scars crossing over her entire body, the screws in her shoulders and hips, the fact that her mouth curved up her cheeks and almost to her ears. Then there was the fact her red eyes had horizontal pupils. That was just weird. ¡°Alright, you¡¯ve had your tea, now let¡¯s get to talking,¡± Giselle demanded as she sat at the table, not bothering to touch her own iced tea. ¡°Mm~ Oh, sure, course, will do!¡± She nodded, her head bobbing as she smiled and started to undo the buttons of her beach shirt, quickly pulling to open to bare a chest where semi-translucent sacs had replaced her breasts. Apparently it was for storing venom or some shit. There were other translucent spots like them tracing down her chest, all made for something bizarre, but the main point of interest was when she removed her shirt completely and turned in her seat to show the TV screen installed in her back. ¡°Why the fuck do you always do this?¡± Giselle demanded, glaring as the screen turned on, showing the image of a red ? on a black background, repeating multiple times in a distorted reel before it finally settled. ¡°Well that¡¯s a fine howdy~! Why do you alway start by criticizing my tastes, hmm~?¡± Vivian asked, her voice as chipper as always even with the unmistakeable sound of a knife cutting through flesh sounding out in the background. Though, known Vivian, it was probably because instead of despite. ¡°Because your taste has always been shit! I don¡¯t know why you insist on making so many damn biohazards!¡± ¡°Cause it¡¯s fun~? And besides, Tongue¡¯s all good with it! She just wants to spread the word of her benevolent doctor~!¡± ¡°It also tingles nice,¡± Tongue added, earning a giggle from Vivian. ¡°That¡¯s also true~! Besides, experimentation gives me a nice boost~! You¡¯d have one too if you really ramped up those cloning tanks~!¡± ¡°Please, like I want some shitty half-baked disposable shit,¡± Giselle retorted, ¡°I want that, I¡¯ll ask for your fucking zombie virus or whatever.¡± ¡°Eh, can¡¯t, already sold my stock to Rhodey, you know~? She calls first dibs~.¡± Giselle paused, considering the idea of her murder-happy death-dealing colleague owning multiple vials of shit deliberately designed to kill as many people as possible and reanimate their remains. Which, honestly, wasn¡¯t all that different from usual, so she really didn¡¯t give a shit. ¡°Fine, whatever, but, that¡¯s not why I¡¯m calling.¡± ¡°Hmm~? And why are you calling then~? Is it about your failed boyfriend, or the monster twins you lost~?¡± ¡°Neither! It¡¯s about that fucker Scorava cutting me out!¡± ¡°Ohhhh~ Yeah, that would be something you¡¯d like to discuss~ Though are you sure you don¡¯t wanna talk boys? I heard Shao was a hottie~¡± ¡°Does it fucking matter? The asshole got dead before I could use him. And no, nothing was left of his corpse, I checked.¡± ¡°Mm, pity. Ginny and Georgie went up in flames too, so that¡¯s another avenue lost...I¡¯m sure I could get you replacements if you really want~¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to find me a pair of biker raiders sadistic enough to replace my enforcers? No, don¡¯t answer, you¡¯re going off fucking topic again.¡± ¡°I could~ Sure, the world¡¯s turned again and our breed would be dead if we weren¡¯t giving them life support, so I can¡¯t quite bring you natural replacements, but I could easily make you a pair of bodyguards~ Ooo, maybe to match with your cute hound~?¡± ¡°...Make it three, and we¡¯ll talk.¡± ¡°Mmm~ Always so greedy~ It¡¯s always been a flaw of yours, dear, ever since¨C¡± Giselle fired a shot straight into the ceiling, her revolver summoned in a second. ¡°STICK TO THE FUCKING TOPIC! Scorava¡¯s decided he doesn¡¯t need my business out of fucking nowhere and I HATE BEING FUCKING BLINDSIDED! So that fucking pissant¡¯s going to pay for it, and you¡¯re going to fucking help me!¡± ¡°Oh? Whyyyy~? I like Cissy fine, even if he can be a bore at times~¡± ¡°Because I have Skalk¡¯s mutagens, and his fucking data on the topic!¡± There was an audible hitch of breath and Giselle let herself smirk. ¡°His surviving lieutenant, Tusk, brought it to me.¡± ¡°...I do hope you¡¯re taking dear care of her then, Gigi, because you just earned my interest~ Well, not that you¡¯ve ever lost it~¡± Giselle bit back a shudder. Even she didn''t know if it was out of disgust or...history. ¡°Of course I¡¯m taking fucking care of her, she¡¯s a damn asset! So are you working with me or what?¡± ¡°Mm~ Sure Gigi, I¡¯ll help you out~ Though are you sure you just want this to be a one time thing~? We could work better close together~ The Snake and the Spider, back again~¡± Giselle scowled. ¡°Fuck off. We¡¯re not joining up, no fucking merger, this is just a fucking transaction, and you know why!¡± ¡°I know you¡¯re afraid to commit~¡± Vivian giggled again. ¡°But fine, we can talk once your plan is done~ You want Cissy to pay, and you want Altamirano to die, right~? Well I can make that happen~ First off on it, do you still have any of those brutes around? The twins¡¯ little pack~?¡± ¡°The fuckers deserted, back to bandits. If you find ¡®em, they¡¯re yours.¡± ¡°Ooo~ Nice offer already~ Well, let me give you a few things in return, since Cissy likes me so much better~¡± ¡°And people let shit slip when they¡¯re high off their asses.¡± ¡°That too~! Like the fact that the five-twenties are all going to be on a job in the States~ Ah buh buh, no interrupting,¡± Vivian tutted before Giselle could tell her off for holding shit back, ¡°I know you don¡¯t like it when I speak around too much, so let¡¯s try to get everything down in one take, hm~? Cissy¡¯s top girls are tracking a high value target under Bureau protection, because those poor sillies can¡¯t help themselves~ You¡¯d think centuries of trying to maintain order in a world that doesn¡¯t want it would give them a clue, but nope~ ¡°But back on topic, since I know you¡¯re dy¨Cyou¡¯d love to know, the Five are aiming for a witness willing to testify against Cissy, though I know what you¡¯re thinking, ¡®why does that require his five best kitties on the job? Even with the Bureau involved, it¡¯s not like Scorava hasn¡¯t stitched rats before, so why all the hassle¡¯, hm~?¡± The heart vanished as the screen displayed a brightly lit room and Vivian, in full surgery garb, leaned into view over an occupied surgical table, her white lips split wide in a bloodshot smile. ¡°Because that rat¡¯s his kid~!¡± Giselle blinked. She couldn¡¯t quite help that reaction, especially as her mind raced. ¡°...Not Dominic?¡± Couldn¡¯t be, that asshole was higher than Vivian. ¡°Oh no no, not him, a younger brother,¡± Vivian explained, moving back and giggling as she fit her surgical mask back in place. Not that it would help with sanitizing, with how streaked with gore it was already. ¡°Luigi Polidoro Scorva, some poor goomah¡¯s child who would normally never amount to anything, but had enough stones to try joining up with the family he idolized~ Supposedly, course, and idolization always blinds people~ So much that a sudden flaw, a crack in the facade~? It¡¯s enough to destroy a childish ideal of respectable business and heroic protection of the downtrodden and turn it into a deep enough loathing to betray blood and kin~ Though whether it¡¯s loathing them or loathing himself, I can¡¯t tell~ ¡°And it¡¯s not really important, aside from a simple explanation to why Cissy hasn¡¯t just had the boy shot~¡± She leaned back into view again as she cut into the body on the table, blatantly smiling even with the goggles over her eyes and mask in place. ¡°And why he suddenly wants to cut business with you, Gigi. Apparently, the boy ran when he found out about the slaves~¡± ¡°What?! That¡¯s what set him off!?¡± Giselle snarled in disgust, openly scowling. ¡°Cowardly little shit¨CHe lives a life of fucking luxury because of me and he can¡¯t even be grateful!?¡± ¡°Oh the born rich are never grateful, you and I both know that~ We¡¯ve killed enough investors to know it~¡± ¡°Yeah, and this shit dies too! Fuck it, not only am I crippling his fucking cats, his brat dies too!¡± ¡°Ha~! Ahhh, there¡¯s that vicious side, Gigi~ Mmm, careful, you¡¯re going to make me want you again~¡± ¡°Fuck off and finish your fucking report!¡± ¡°Fiiiine, fine fine, you always know when I¡¯m holding something back~ Heh, anyways, apparently Cissy¡¯s already sent retrieval teams, but they all lost badly~ The agents involved must be more decent than expected...but what matters more to us than to them is where a good strike point would be, right~? And the Bureau doesn¡¯t run the tightest ship~ Oh, speaking of, say hi to Agent Lamb~!¡± Vivian reached off screen, then pulled a partially severed head into view. Partially, because it was still attached to a distended spine, stretching far further than it naturally should. Giselle smirked at the sight, especially with how the head was still visibly mumbling. ¡°Hello Agent Lamb. Thanks for all your help.¡± ¡°Heh~ He appreciates it~¡± With that, she tossed the head again, giggling as she did, and leaned close to the monitor, pushing her hands straight into the agent''s open chest as she did. The wet squish did nothing to detract from Vivian''s good humor. ¡°The main part I¡¯ve heard is that Cissy¡¯s been keeping up on attacks, trying to get his boy back, and the agents are taking a roundabout way to get back home to Kanawha as a result~ Or maybe they¡¯re not going there at all? The ways I hear, they could be going anywhere from Allegheny to Dorado, but I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be in States'' territory~¡± ¡°...Is that it? Those fucks are all going to be in one place, at once, to grab some little shit on the way to somewhere you don¡¯t¡­¡± Something clicked in her head, and Giselle grinned. ¡°Ah. Ha, those dumb motherfuckers are going by train, aren¡¯t they? The cross-continental railroad, delivering people and goods to where they gotta go!¡± ¡°Ooo, a daring train raid! Oh, that brings back memories~¡± Vivian giggled to herself, then smirked at the monitor, pulling down her mask to make sure Giselle saw it. ¡°I bet you¡¯re right~! The question is though, what are you going to do about it~?¡± ¡°First? I¡¯m gonna find what fucking train it is they¡¯re catching. And second¡­ Giselle smiled right back, her grin wide and cruel, matched in horrific cheer by her fellow monster on the other side. ¡°I¡¯m making some calls~¡±
¡°Shower¡¯s yours,¡± Nimia announced as she walked back into the hotel¡¯s bedroom. Greenie didn¡¯t look up though, too entranced by some kind of magical girl show on the tv. ¡°Hey. You want it or not?¡± ¡°Huh? Ah, later, Akiko¡¯s going up against Vesuvius and I¡¯m not missing that.¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t know what that means, but alright.¡± Nimia huffed, using the towel around her shoulders to brush at her hair as she sat on the other bed, watching a red-haired woman in an admittedly cute vest and dress fistfighting a crimson-skinned gynoid, fire bursting out around both of them as the match increased in intensity. ¡°...What¡¯s going on here?¡± ¡°Hm? Oh, okay, so like, this would take a while to explain, but basic thing is that this is a follow-up sequel series thing where the mage warriors, a group of six former magical girls, now adults and living average lives, are suddenly sucked back into the fight for justice by an evil capitalist trying to make living weapons called ¡®valkyries¡¯ out of the remains of one of the eldritch abominations they killed in the previous series.¡± ¡°...Huh. So why¡¯s the red gal fighting a different red gal?¡± ¡°It¡¯s like a mirror match thing. Vesuvius is a recurring foe of theirs because the thing about the valkyries, like all robotic foes, is that they can survive their body being destroyed as long as they have the central processor still up, so now she¡¯s been upgraded and wants a revenge bout against her rival while the rest of Akiko¡¯s team has to go up against the rest of Vesu¡¯s evil counter team.¡± Nimia blinked at that, then settled back, pulling her legs up on the bed with her as she settled in to watch, then paused when her phone buzzed. Which was weird, because who the hell would even have the number to call her? She reached over, paused again when she saw the scales on her right hand had spread over her fingers and to the back of her hand, then just shrugged that off to grab it and answer. ¡°Sup?¡± ¡°Sup yourself, you punk fucking bitch,¡± came the immediate, audibly irritated and weirdly familiar sounding reply, ¡°You¡¯ve got a train to catch.¡± 29 28 - The Roaring Twenties
Match 21 #30 Nimia ¡°The Serpent¡± Altamirano Vs. #29 Claudia ¡°Crow¡± Rook #28 Malia ¡°Owl¡± Barret
Guest Starring: Luigi ¡°Mammone¡± Scorava Agent Garret Milgram Agent Wendell Wright Agent Noemi Shelburn
Inventory Darling - A mystical saber imbued with the powers of fire and ice; Fire LV 2, Ice LV 1 Death & Debt - Two .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums, formerly named Sonya & Cleon; imbued with fiery bullets. Lucky - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting
¡°¨Cthree weeks ago, four days following the confirmed death of Tai Shao, the country¡¯s former ruler, Xintong was rocked by a series of explosions that have devastated the small country, leaving it easy prey for its eager neighbors to descend on,¡± the newscaster in a blue suit droned, her voice even and calm despite the gruesome subject matter. Not that many paid attention to the tv attached above a pillar, one of many across the platforms of San Icilio Station. The station¡¯s patrons and workers all had places to be, whether it was in the city proper, or through catching one of the hundreds of trains going through the major station day by day. And on this warm, spring morning, two women in particular had a very specific train to catch. The Vandalia was the train in question; a passenger train, stretching far down the tracks it rolled over. It was a luxury train, designed for comfort more than its sleeker contemporaries. It still had all the trappings of a modern train, what with its sleek body painted a fetching shade of blue, but its interior was largely based in compartment coaches, where passengers could relax without fear of interruption. There were lounge cars as well, spaced in between the compartment coaches for those seeking to sit with other passengers; at least two dining cars; and an observation car at the very back. All these things were noted by the two women as they walked the platform and stepped onboard, their eyes peeled for their targets. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be in the open,¡± Crow noted, only to pause as Owl held a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. ¡°Our car is this way,¡± the 28th said instead of explaining, taking the lead, as per usual, towards their compartment near the end of the train. The two enforcers of the Scorava Mafia were dressed quite nicely at the moment; Owl always dressed nicely, so her clothes were about the same as typical¨Cbrown waistcoat, white undershirt, long skirt, tights, knee-high boots¨Cthough she¡¯d forgone the mask and hood for the moment. Masks and hoods tended to attract attention, so she simply wore a pair of round glasses over her narrow, hazel eyes, and a brown, wide-brim hat atop her short bob of black hair. This meant her face was fully visible though, which wasn¡¯t an especially large issue; she looked ordinary enough, just a regular, fit, woman with light brown skin, traveling with a similarly dressed friend. In all honesty, she couldn¡¯t help herself; the opportunity to get Crow in a skirt was one she fully enjoyed, and having her shorter colleague dressed in an outfit identical to hers? It was too cute not to go for! So she spent some time picking out a nice vest, a matching skirt, dark pantyhose, and matching boots, which Crow accepted with long-suffering grace, though Owl was certain her junior would appreciate her fashion choices in time. She¡¯d even taken care to pick out a proper jacket and fedora for her partner, so really, it was all for her! She did look lovely all in black too, as typical, though she didn¡¯t bother with glasses, even though Owl had told Crow before they would make her look less threatening. Not that Crow looked especially threatening to her; her skin was a lovely shade of dark brown, her eyes were nearly black, and she kept her coarse hair cropped short and fuzzy. Some may call her hard gaze and tendency to scowl intimidating, but Owl had a fondness for the woman she was certain would kill her some day. Oh, and one couldn¡¯t forget the gloves. The gloves were important, as they hid any fingerprints as Owl opened the door to their compartment and promptly took a seat on the closest seat, bringing out her laptop from her inventory in one simple motion. ¡°Do you really need that?¡± Crow asked, closing the door behind her, ¡°I thought those glasses could show things fine?¡± ¡°They can. I prefer having something in my lap though.¡± She glanced to Crow and smirked. ¡°If you would like to take its place-¡± ¡°No.¡± She sat beside her nonetheless and leaned to look. ¡°You¡¯re already in the systems?¡± ¡°I am. Our wayward jaybird is bound to be somewhere on here. The best guess would be a carriage compartment. Easily defensible, cozy, more subtle than trying to hitch a ride in the luggage.¡± Her screen switched between feeds, moving steadily from each camera. ¡°Are you sure? The luggage carriage would be sealed off from the rest of the cars, right?¡± ¡°For passengers. It¡¯s still a bad option. Hiding there would be noticeable.¡± The compartments themselves didn¡¯t have cameras installed, for the privacy of patrons. That made the search slightly trickier, though people were still getting onboard. ¡°Fair. We need to wait until the train starts to move before we grab him though, right?¡± ¡°Yes. Recon is still important. Particularly when dealing with agents that have already fended off three retrieval teams.¡± Crow rolled her eyes, moving to the opposite couch so she could slouch against the wall and put her feet up on the cushions. ¡°I know that, but it¡¯s your field, so if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯m gonna get some rest.¡± ¡°Feel free to. You¡¯ll know when we need to move.¡± She nodded, then pulled the brim of her hat over her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, her breathing slowing as she dozed off in an instan. A helpful talent for those in their line of work. Owl, however, had to continue scouting, examining the passengers as they stepped onboard and evaluating threats. They would have civilians in the way during this excursion, which was unfortunate, but not unexpected. Extra variables threw things off, though they were also easy hostage opportunities. Unless they were more dangerous than expected, which was why scouting was important. Most civilians aboard the train were quite well-dressed, and she could appreciate the pristine, blue uniforms of the conductors. A bald, broad-shouldered man was working as bartender in a vest, white undershirt, and black slacks, and...hm. A wedding group taking a train wasn¡¯t impossible, and the white suits and dresses they wore looked nice. They were carrying on a great deal of luggage though, instrument cases in particular. Perhaps not a wedding, but an orchestra? She didn¡¯t see anyone in particular who would be the happy couple¡­ The final passengers boarded, the doors closed, and the train started moving. There was no announcement of their departure though. She flipped through the feeds, and started to smirk. The engine room, the front cabin, whatever it was called in locomotive terms...its feed was dark. Just black, completely and utterly. That was remarkably sloppy. Any effort and it would¡¯ve taken her at least a few checks to realize there was a loop in the feed or a skip. No effort had been made though. Did they just shoot out the cameras and call it a day? ¡°Sloppy. Very sloppy.¡± Then she started to frown. ¡°Maybe too sloppy for Bureau agents¡­¡± She looked through the channels again, checking each lounge and hall, and came to a very interesting realization. There were no children onboard. Not running in the halls, exploring the lounges, or peeking through the windows. A luxury train, traveling across the continent, and no families with children had boarded. That was statistically unlikely. So she brought her phone out and up to her ear, already dialing the appropriate number. ¡°Jaguar. We have a third party involved.¡± Still, she wasn¡¯t too worried. More parties just meant more bodies. And wouldn¡¯t those nice suits look so much better dyed red?
Luigi Scorava, Lou to his friends, took a slow, shaky breath, trying not to...do something. He wasn¡¯t sure. There were a lot of things he could wind up doing here that were bad choices. That wasn¡¯t new for him. He hadn¡¯t been doing well for...his whole life, really. ¡°Take a breath, kid,¡± Agent Shelburn said, giving him a frown, ¡°You¡¯re too tense.¡± ¡°S-Sorry, shit, s-sorry, I¡­¡± He took a breath. It didn¡¯t help much. ¡°A-Are you s-sure we can be out in the open like this?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not that in the open. The curtains are drawn and everything,¡± she pointed out, as though that would make him feel better. Shelburn had a...weird feel to her. She was casual for a fed. Light-skinned with narrow, hazel eyes and her hair cut in a short pixie cut, she was dressed in a white blouse and blue jeans. She looked normal, if fit, leaned back in the seat next to him, one leg propped up on the other. She wasn¡¯t, but she looked it. Lou let out a shaky sigh, nodding. He was a mess. Scruffy, for one. He didn¡¯t really have a full mustache or a goatee, just some hairs. His dark-brown hair had gotten long, but apparently that was fine? He wasn¡¯t trying to be a slob, but looking messy made him look less likely to be a rich guy, right? So...messy it was, with a loose, hooded olive-green jacket, orange t-shirt, and jeans of his own. Also sneakers. They weren¡¯t uncomfortable, just something he wasn¡¯t used to. He kept his hands clenched in his lap, leaning slightly. Not hunching, just leaning forward. His red eyes flicked to the two men sitting across from him. ¡°...are we actually safe here? I-I mean, legitimately?¡± ¡°As safe as we are anywhere,¡± Agent Milgram replied, leaned back against his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes looked closed under his sunglasses. No, they were definitely closed. ¡°That¡¯s...unfortunately accurate,¡± Agent Wright admitted, shrugging. His hands were in his lap, his thumbs pressing together. ¡°It should be safer than the helicopter.¡± ¡°Hey, that was still a decent idea!¡± Shelburn complained, ¡°It¡¯s not my fault they found the airfield and gassed the whole place!¡± ¡°It¡¯s your fault the last chopper was unusable,¡± Milgram countered, eyes still closed, ¡°You didn¡¯t have to throw Laraway into the rotors.¡± ¡°...okay but that wasn¡¯t completely intentional either. Was more a ¡®pull into¡¯ than a ¡®throw into¡¯.¡± ¡°She has a point,¡± Wright added, ¡°And the helicopter was tipped over.¡± Milgram shrugged, conceding the point to his larger...partner? Colleague? Lou still wasn¡¯t completely sure. The two of them contrasted by a lot in appearance. Milgram was fair-skinned and dirty-blond, wearing an aviator jacket over a black shirt and torn blue jeans. There was some logo on the front, but the jacket covered it. He looked like a punk. Wright looked like a soldier. There was no getting away from that. He was too big and too broad. He had dark skin, and his hair was cut into a flattop. A thick, dark mustache sat on his upper lip, and he was clean-shaven otherwise. He wore an olive-green sweater and tan cargo pants. Both were wearing combat boots. Both had gray eyes. Both had killed trained hitmen right in front of Lou¡¯s eyes. Fernando Fracassi and Clinton Cinelli had strong reps, high body counts. They¡¯d burned down half a town to get to Lou. Wright beat Fracassi to death in three hits. He¡¯d been bragging, taunting, explaining how this gig would get him made, get him ranked, stalking Lou between burning buildings until Wright stepped in front of him, clothes burning and skin unharmed. One hit drove the wind from his lungs and lunch from his stomach, a second smashed his teeth and nose and the follow-up crushed his skull on the spot. He still stood after, like he hadn¡¯t even realized he died. Cinelli went worse though. When Lou saw him, Milgram was just holding him. Just pressing him, shredded and armless, against the hood of a burning car. The fucking sizzle¨C ¡°You okay, kid?¡± Lou nearly flinched at Milgram¡¯s voice, but shook his head. ¡°Y-Yeah, I¡¯m good...h-hey. How¡¯s it so easy for you?¡± ¡°Killing?¡± No hesitation on the question. It was just to clarify. Lou nodded. ¡°Hm...It¡¯s always been. My therapist says I have issues with empathy, something like a personality disorder.¡± ¡°...You have a therapist?¡± ¡°Bureau mandated, yup. If you wanna work, you gotta have your head on right.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a good policy,¡± Wright agreed while Shelburn huffed. ¡°Sure, everyone loves pouring their heart out to someone paid to put up with you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s better that they¡¯re paid instead of a loved one. You don¡¯t need to worry about burdening them.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t have those, don¡¯t care. As for the killing question, it¡¯s not. Every single time I have to kill someone, it¡¯s with the full knowledge I¡¯m ending a human life, someone the world will never get back.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I prefer to think it¡¯s a good thing whenever I do it, removing someone from society after they¡¯ve caused harm, but it¡¯s not like our world isn''t broken, and it¡¯s not like the real monsters ever pay. But you just gotta bury it deep, and accept it¡¯s the price of living in a world previous generations wouldn¡¯t fix.¡± ¡°Huh. Deep,¡± Milgram commented, which earned an annoyed scowl. ¡°It¡¯s not that deep. Just how I rationalize. Some people are pieces of shit who need removing. The trick is to make sure, for yourself, that they really are.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an interesting way to think,¡± Wright said as he settled back, looking to the ceiling as he thought. ¡°I can understand it. My way is different. I prefer to carry a death. The end of a life is a sad thing. Something with weight. So I need to accept that, and respect it. So every weight I take is added to me, so I might strike true when needed.¡± ¡°Man, you two are making me feel shallow here,¡± Milgram muttered, scratching at his head, before he shrugged, ¡°Whatever. So, kid, what was your first like?¡± Lou swallowed, nearly speaking before his breath caught. His neck itched, where the 278 was printed in solid red. Shelburn was about to tell Milgram off, but she¡¯d paused, looking at him. Had he mentioned it to any of them before? They saw the number, they had to know. ¡°...I-I have no idea. I wanted¡­.I wanted to be like my dad. And...my ma told me, lotta stories. Big things, legendary things, and my family...they were all immortals. And I wanted to...be that. Maybe. Be like ¡®em. He leaned back, thinking. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what they looked like, the one before me. They were bound up, in...latex. I think. It was black, and shiny. It stretched...their arms and legs were gone. I¡¯d been...I¡¯d run things before. Sold drugs, managed money laundering...fuck, I ripped off you guys, selling gun licenses that¡¯d pass scrutiny, no checks or tax. Did a lotta shit like that, fraud, you know, you said, you got it, but...I¡¯d did good, so it was my reward. And all I had to do was take a gun and shoot some covered, wriggling thing that barely looked human. ¡°And I couldn¡¯t help thinking...they were human. That¡¯s a person. And I shot ¡®em in the head. Five times. And it¡­.It had to be like that, and I accepted that. And I went on another job, and took another shipment, and it was more people. All in the kind of jumpsuits you¡¯d see a mechanic wear...or maybe a prisoner. And they chatted. And talked. They walked fine, they weren¡¯t just dead in their eyes...if they did enough, they could get out. Made enough money, spent enough time, they could go home. Buy their freedom. I heard them say that, and I knew they were lying to themselves, cause the only other option was just¡­one bit his tongue off on the way over. He couldn¡¯t lie... Lou took a slow, steady breath. ¡°...I ain¡¯t going back there. My pop can go fuck himself.¡± There was a hand on his shoulder, firm and reassuring. Scarred, but warm. ¡°You¡¯re damn right he can. You got out. Never forget that.¡± Shelburn gave him a genuine grin, and he tried not to blush. ¡°...I won¡¯t.¡± The hand left his shoulder, and they subsided back into silence as the landscape raced past outside the windows, urban streets moving to dry fields. ¡°...So, do we wait here the whole trip?" ¡°You do,¡± Milgram replied, back to resting. ¡°Garret is right, for once.¡± The immediate middle finger earned a chuckle from Wright. ¡°You should stay here for the time being. I¡¯ll check the nearest lounge, maybe bring back a snack.¡± ¡°Try not to get into any fights on the way,¡± Shelburn spoke up, ¡°It¡¯s your turn in the queue, so shit might get hairy.¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t think there¡¯s a queue for these encounters, but I¡¯ll take your advice as intended.¡± Wendell nodded to his colleagues and principal, then stepped out into the hall, immediately scanning his surroundings as he closed the door behind him. Things were quiet. The noise of the train in motion was the only sound he heard, and a glance at the compartment nearest to them showed it empty. He moved at an unhurried pace through the hall, not showing his glances towards each compartment. None were occupied, which was expected. They¡¯d rented out this entire carriage under a number of false identities, keeping them empty. The camera in the hall shouldn¡¯t be an issue either, as it was rigged to show a loop of the empty hall. An entirely empty carriage wasn¡¯t entirely subtle, but the conductors shouldn¡¯t ask questions. The lounge car was occupied though. Three groups of civilians¨Ca couple, a quartet, and a trio¨Csat at nearby tables, chatting casually, and the bar...had a single woman sitting there. A woman he recognized: Eliza Grantland, head of the now defunct CMC PMC, presumed dead following the ¡°massacre parade¡± at Veracity. Though that information was clearly inaccurate and outdated. It also seemed like Noemi¡¯s ¡°queue¡± theory of sudden one-on-one fights had some new evidence supporting it¡­ He took the seat next to Grantland and raised a hand to catch the bartender¡¯s attention, ¡°Just water, please.¡± ¡°Not looking to drink?¡± Grantland asked, glancing towards him out of the corner of her eye. She was wearing gloves, so she likely was on a job. The professional black suit added to that impression, though she wore it loose. She also had a black cowboy hat on, which was odd.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°I am, just not alcohol. Water is fine.¡± ¡°Mh, sure, but you could get soda. Rum and cola, minus the rum.¡± ¡°That is true, though I still prefer water. Simple can be better.¡± ¡°Eh, fair enough. I¡¯d still go for something bubbly myself. Even carbonated water¡¯s more fun than regular water, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°You like to live for fun then?¡± ¡°Pft. That¡¯s a lot to assume from my drink choices, big guy. But sure, hedonism is nice. Are you offering something or¡­?¡± Hm. He should¡¯ve left this to Garret. Wendell shook his head. ¡°Just making conversation. You seem like an interesting person.¡± ¡°Aw, that¡¯s sweet of you to say! Jeez, nicer than my boss here...ah, speaking of-¡± She put her hand over his glass of water, holding it down. ¡°-you might want to go back to your compartment, big guy.¡± She was being more blatant than he expected, though...did she think he was a civilian? That would be a first. ¡°Why would I need to do something like that?¡± ¡°Things are about to kick off soon, and I''d rather someone uninvolved stayed out of it.¡± ¡°Then let me offer the same to you. Go back to your cabin and forget your job here.¡± His reply made her blink with visible confusion. ¡°Wait, what? You work for the twenties?¡± ¡°...the twenties?¡± What? Did she mean Scorava¡¯s enforcers¨C The intercom crackling to life caught both their attentions, as did the voice echoing through it. ¡°Ah, testing? Testing¨CHow many times do I do the test thing? Bengal, adjust the¨CNo, not that, the other thingy!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not Nero,¡± Grantland muttered, sounding even more confused, which Wendell could sympathize with, as he was fairly certain he¡¯d just wandered into something completely outside his knowledge. ¡°Ah, hm, ahem, uh, think we¡¯re getting through okay. Hey there party people! Sorry for the wait, but we needed some time to set things up, but it¡¯s all good, cuz we¡¯re good to go now.¡±
¡°So, to the people who don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, congratulations! I¡¯m telling you. Now you don¡¯t need to die confused, which you really ought to thank me for.¡± ¡°That¡¯s Lupul,¡± Owl muttered, keeping her focus on her laptop as Summerton¡¯s mutt spoke. His presence complicated things, particularly since that meant the white suits were almost certainly a part of his¨CYes, there they were, putting on flat, plastic masks with dark lenses. ¡°Huh. That¡¯s an opportunity,¡± Crow noted as she stood and switched outfits on the spot, transferring her cute, fancy clothes to a solid black bodysuit that covered every inch of her skin with a ballistics vest over it, strapped with grenades, along with her black crow mask and the cloak that covered it all. ¡°The game is simple! It¡¯s a hunt! One with many targets!¡± ¡°Only if you managed to get to him,¡± she replied, dismissing her laptop and switching her own clothes in an instant. It was a shame she had to switch too, but at least she kept her clothing identical with her partner, though her flat, owl mask and white, speckled bodysuit were more meant to contrast. She would have an advantage in close quarters, but the interlopers she was marking through her mask¡¯s feed were mostly equipped with guns¨Csmgs and assault rifles, primarily¨Cso Crow should take point. ¡°Plans might need to change.¡± ¡°And who¡¯re those targets, you might wonder? Well, hunters won¡¯t, they read dossiers, but you targets might want to know you¡¯re on the list! And yes, that includes you, Bureau Agents Wright, Milgram, and Shelburn. You¡¯re all worth ten thousand points! So hope you like knowing your value!¡± Wright, Milgram, Shelburn. So those were the target¡¯s protectors. Good to keep in mind. ¡°Hm. Think if we let him talk, we could find out something interesting?¡± Crow asked as she opened the compartment door, peering out. ¡°Perhaps.¡± Owl went for the window instead, cutting along its rim with the talons on her fingers before pushing it out, letting it crash to the landscape rushing past and letting in their air. ¡°Aw, why would you break the window? You¡¯re not trying to leave yet, right Owl?¡± Right, he would have access to the feeds too. That was annoying. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to hear how much you¡¯re worth? Ah, fine, you convinced me. You and your partner are worth thirty-thousand each, which means you¡¯re worth all three agents combined! Be proud of yourself!¡± ¡°We should be worth a lot more than three agents,¡± Crow groused, cracking her neck as she stepped into the hall, striding fast to the connecting door. Owl privately agreed, but it wouldn¡¯t do to give Crow a swelled head. And maybe she should reign her impatience in. ¡°Heading through the cars is more dangerous than going on top.¡± ¡°Jaguar¡¯s coming from the top, we¡¯re supposed to clear the cars.¡± She still stopped, turning to look as Owl considered their options. She was bristling with impatience though. ¡°Oh, but I shouldn¡¯t forget our other friends! Because we still have Luigi Scorava, the cowardly boy running from his rich life! And since his papa wants him back so much, his corpse is worth one hundred thousand!¡± Owl stiffened, then immediately contacted Jaguar. ¡°Third party involvement, Paradiso, headed by Lupul. His aim is to kill the target, not to capture.¡± ¡°Piece of shit!¡± Crow snarled, turning straight for the door and slamming it open. Then she stopped in her tracks and stared at the tall woman right on the other side. ¡°Then we have our last target! For the second highest prize, we have the upstart climber causing so many problems, sitting at fifty-thousand points, Nimia Altamirano!¡± Altamirano lifted the brim of her black cowboy hat, staring down at the wide-eyed Crow with a cheerful smirk. ¡°Sup?¡±
¡°So many problems today,¡± Jaguar complained, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting beneath her helmet, ¡°And all for one stupid runaway...oh, that rhymed.¡± The two women standing with her on the bridge didn¡¯t say a word in reply to their boss¡¯s complaints. They didn¡¯t usually say much. Cougar stood at her left, while Leopard was on her right. All three women wore cybernetic armor consisting of interlocking alloy plates fixed across a nanoweave undersuit, an intended ¡°second skin¡± that would allow them protection along with a full range of motion. The former¡¯s armor was sandy-tan, marked lightly in black in some spots; the latter¡¯s was a golden-brown, marked all over by black spots. Jaguar¡¯s, meanwhile, resembled Leopard¡¯s the closest, though her armor was a warm orange, akin to the sky around a rising sun. Their helmets didn¡¯t exactly resemble the big cats they were named for, though the black visors lined with white seemed almost designed to look like widened maws, and there were claws at their armored hands and feet. There were also little ridges at the tops of their helmets, but neither Cougar nor Leopard would admit they looked sort of like ears. Jaguar would though, and she would remark on them being very cute. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think any of us thought this would be an easy job. I was hoping those agents would just be a decent practice match though.¡± The woman in question sighed, watching the hijacked train speed along its tracks, approaching through the valley this bridge overlooked. ¡°We even found such a perfect spot to jump onboard! Really, it¡¯s a surprise this train hasn¡¯t been robbed before! ...Has it?¡± Leopard shrugged while Cougar kept her focus, her hands bristling at her sides. ¡°Eh. If it hasn¡¯t, we should take a few souvenirs to make sure we¡¯re the first.¡± She took a slow breath, centering herself and closing her eyes. All that was left was the sound of the wind in the air, and the approaching train on the ground. She felt the warmth in her, the heat of anticipation, and waited. As the train passed under the bridge, three women landed on top of it. The first flashed down there, landing in a roll. The second extended her arms, stretching with shadow to slow her momentum and land in a crouch. The third simply stepped from the bridge, and fell, flipping once in the air and landing on her feet, further down than the other two. Jaguar stood tall and turned, walking for the front of the train as Cougar and Leopard moved for the back. As they passed, she raised her hands, receiving two hi-fives in turn, and started to grin. She always wanted to have a fight on a train.
Crow lurched back, her black semi-automatics forming in her hands and firing rapidly as Nimia ducked low and rushed forward, firing back with magnums that shot flaming bullets as she went. Crow snarled as her cloak burst off, her black, metal wings immediately crossing in front of her body to block the bullets and burst them into embers. She still retreated, continuing to fire until she was out, tossing the guns and pulling a flamethrower from her inventory as she returned literal fire, setting the cabin alight as Altamirano ducked into a room. She kept up the retreat, spraying fire all around the hallway and fully setting the cabin alight as she backed up¨CThen winced, dropping her weapon as a lucky shot got her right in the hand. It wasn¡¯t bad, she still had her shields up, but it was distracting and Altamirano was armored now¨Cfully green, patterned almost like snakeskin, though the hat was still on somehow¨Crushing right through the flame with a burning sword¨C Crow flipped over a table in the empty observation cabin, her wings flaring out around her as she pulled a flashbang, throwing it up and ducking low before pulling two smgs and opening fire on a woman that was already moving, getting close and swinging¨C Then Owl smashed in through one of the windows and caught Altamirano full in the face with both feet, knocking her back and sending her skidding as she pulled twin rapiers and rushed in, stabbing fast at Altamirano, who dodged and weaved and tossed her hat up¨Cwhich was still on before that moment¨Cto avoid it getting stabbed, before moving in and swinging back, slicing at Owl as Crow tossed the empty guns and pulled her rifle, sighting quick and firing¨C Only for a bottle to smash straight against her mask¨Cright, Altamirano had a free hand¨Cand damn it all, there was alcohol covering her fucking lenses! She tried to rub it out, then flinched as one of Owl¡¯s brown wings blocked a revolver shot. ¡°CLOSE COMBAT!¡± Owl snapped, and Crow nodded on reflex, dismissing her rifle and bringing out the tonfas she¡¯d trained with, guarding her arms and lunging in with the opening Owl gave her, and they had a rhythm get going quick as their wings smashed away the chairs and tables that could be obstacles to their movement. Crow could block hits, with wings and tonfas¨CAltamirano couldn¡¯t cut through either, which made Crow start grinning¨Cand Owl could stab in quick with each opening she made. It was rough and Crow wasn¡¯t usually this close to a target, but Owl had her back and¨C Altamirano dismissed her sword and smashed Crow in the face with a fist like a sledgehammer and she stumbled, before suddenly getting shoved back, brushed off by Owl who was lunging in and stabbing faster and Altamirano was just dodging and weaving but staying way too damn close! How the fuck was she that agile!? And there was the problem, Altamirano was agile and dismissing her sword meant her range was shorter which was a problem when Owl had rapiers out! She couldn¡¯t stab if Altamirano got in her guard and their wings wouldn¡¯t¨C Crow shook her head, scowling at the pulse of blood in her ears and rushed back in¨CThe kick to her chest knocked the wind out of her even with the vest and she was genuinely baffled on how the fuck one woman could hit that hard as she slammed into the opposite wall, cracking against the glass as stars flashed in her eyes. She shook it off, slapping the top of her head as she tried to get focused. Owl was too quiet, stabbing faster and faster, swinging and cutting a line straight across the window behind Altamirano, cracking all of them along that wall, but the bitch still ducked! And the sudden uppercut to Owl¡¯s face made Crow see red, sprinting forward with a screech of pure rage¨C And Altamirano twisted, grabbed the back of her head, and smashed her straight through the glass window, sending Crow out into the open air. For a moment, she felt weightless, twisting to see the ground turn into a blue, cloudless sky overhead through shattered glass. Her broken wings sparked in the air. The wind was on her face. Then she smashed into the ground.
Nimia had no time, turning and ducking quick as a sword flew past her head. She lurched, missing the next one that stabbed into the wall beside her and lunged, bringing her darling out and stabbing straight through the pair of wings that tried to block her thrust. ¡°GHACK-!¡± Owl choked as the burning sword went straight through her crossed arms and into her chest, before laughing out loud, ¡°HA! N-Nope! D-Didn¡¯t do it!¡± Then she pushed forward, rushing fast so it stabbed all the way through her heart and out the back, laughing even as blood spilled from her lips and out her chest, staining all the white red. ¡°Pretty sure I did,¡± Nimia retorted, frowning as she tried to pull back¨C Then Owl twisted and the blade snapped completely at the hilt, still stuck and sizzling in her chest as she stood up, another laugh bubbling behind her mask. ¡°N-N-No. I-It¡¯s fine. Cl-Claudia didn¡¯t get me, b-but it¡¯s fine. Y-You won¡¯t get her.¡± ¡°...You didn¡¯t stop me. The sword¡¯s magic. It¡¯ll fix itself soon enough.¡± ¡°S-Sure. I-I think y-you¡¯re even right. The o-others aren¡¯t easy though. N-Not at all.¡± She took a slow breath, feeling the fire inside her. ¡°I-I n-never was th-the best. I-It¡¯s fine. I-It¡¯s...all fine.¡± She lurched, then looked up, staring straight into Nimia¡¯s eyes. ¡°...Your grip¡¯s too firm. I only broke it because you were clinging too tight.¡± Then she dropped.
30 -> 28
¡°...Hm.¡± Nimia glanced back through the shattered window, out at the landscape passing by. She considered the woman she threw out of the train, the one her number skipped. Getting thrown from a train was lethal, for most, but...Fuck it, she had things to do. And judging by the gunshots coming from the cars ahead, she wasn¡¯t the only one having a hell of a time. So she grabbed her hat, yanked the rapier from the wall, and started to move, running to the next fight.
¡°Why the fuck wasn¡¯t I mentioned?!¡± Eliza snapped, glaring up at the ceiling in a rush of offense as the intercom cut out, before settling down with an irritated huff. Then she glanced up at the click of a hammer being drawn back. There was a handgun pointed at her head, and the bartender was grinning. ¡°No idea, but I¡¯m sure no one would mind¨C¡± He really shouldn¡¯t¡¯ve taken his eyes off the agent. Maybe he thought the big guy would start running? Or that he¡¯d be too shocked to move? Or maybe that one of the goons around pulling their own guns would¡¯ve shot him? Point was, the dumbass wasn¡¯t looking as a solid left hook smashed hard enough into his skull that one of his eyes was crushed by its socket. Not that the guy probably noticed, since he was clearly dead at the hit, but that¨C Oh, okay, the big guy just tossed her behind him. She blinked as she stood in front of her, his arms spread wide as every dipshit in the cabin opened fire. But there was no spray of blood, no collapsing body; apparently the big guy was bulletproof. ¡°Get back to your compartment and lock it up,¡± he ordered, looking back at her as bullets broke on his skin, actually ignoring the shooters just to make sure she was safe. Which...well, it felt nice. She was going to need to pay him back for this. Which, hey, she did have an option for that. ¡°No need to throw my words back at me, I¡¯m not a total damsel,¡± she replied, waiting for just a few seconds as the dumbasses firing ran into the inherent problem of having everyone in their group fire at the same time: everyone had to reload at the same time. And it was in that lull that Eliza rolled out from behind the big guy and brought out the rifle she¡¯d inventoried for this job, snapping off a quick shot to blow the brains out of the closest dumbass in a white mask, blowing straight through his eye and out his head in a spray of red before sighting the next one and shooting through her head too. That signaled to the rest of the dumbfucks that they should actually take cover¨C ¡°Hey, can you rip this table out the¨C¡± The big guy apparently could, tearing it straight from its moorings on the floor and letting Eliza hide behind it. ¡°Thanks! So, which one are you?¡± ¡°Wright,¡± he replied as he crouched beside her. Not that he needed the cover, but maybe that helped¨COh, right. ¡°One sec,¡± Eliza said, before pulling an electro-grenade from her inventory and tossing it past the table, earning some panicked yelps and then a lot of spasming screams, ¡°Had to preempt any grenade-throwing on their part, especially since they¡¯d probably go for the more ¡®might blow up the train¡¯ type.¡± ¡°I see. I thought your specialty was acid?¡± ¡°Corrosive rounds, yes, and that was more of a company specialty. I¡¯m decent with guns and explosives in general, you just aim and shoot or prime and throw or set and wait, stuff like that.¡± She popped up, snapping off a few shots at a pair of pricks who hadn¡¯t gone down spasming, before ducking again at the hail of gunfire. ¡°So hey, why are you this close to the middle of the train? Closer to the rear would be more defensible and there¡¯d be no chance of getting caught in a pincer.¡± ¡°We were aiming to be inconspicuous at the time,¡± Wright replied, still waiting. Did his thing have a charge to it? ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t have a charge, I¡¯m just assessing the situation.¡± ¡°Huh. Psychic?¡± ¡°Somewhat. Unfortunately, not that type.¡± He held up a hand and clenched it into a fist, showing a yellow glow flecked off his skin like dust particles. ¡°Just very durable.¡± ¡°And hard hitting, don¡¯t sell yourself short on that.¡± He chuckled, which was a win in Eliza¡¯s book. ¡°I won¡¯t. In fact, could you cover me?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re asking me to watch your fine back as you work, then yes, I can.¡± And she did exactly that, standing up and firing at the cowering shooters who finally figured out what cover was just for a six foot six mass of beefcake to barrel through and kick their shit in. Honestly, Eliza was starting to wonder if she had a thing for the tall, dark, and brutal types. Definitely shouldn¡¯t be licking her lips at seeing him smash a man¡¯s head against the wall, would definitely be coming on too strong¨CNimia and her weren¡¯t a thing, it wasn¡¯t like she was cheating. Right? Right. ¡°Wright, we¡¯ve got-¡± Eliza dismissed her rifle and raised her hands at the sound of voices behind her, being very careful to show the potential government agents that she wasn¡¯t a threat. Though she still glanced behind her to see who they were. Decently attractive blond and scrawny brunette¨Cwait, the ette was feminine, wasn¡¯t it? Scrawny brun then?¨Csome skinny brown-haired guy was not quite what she expected, but she wasn¡¯t going to the judge¨C ¡°Is that a Mage Warriors shirt?¡± The blond guy blinked, then nodded. ¡°Watched it since the first series. You?¡± ¡°Same! I used to read the comics too, though I still find it kinda funny they were actually tie-ins instead of the original source material, considering the influences the show takes from.¡± ¡°...wait, the magical girl show?¡± the kid asked, sounding confused. ¡°Magical women show, yes,¡± Eliza corrected, before clapping her hands together, ¡°Right, guessing I¡¯m on your side now.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± Wright said as he brushed blood from his hands, a little unnecessarily in Eliza¡¯s opinion, but whatever, ¡°Garret, where¡¯s Noemi?¡± ¡°Agent Shelburn¡¯s heading through the back, eliminating bogies that way,¡± the blond¨Cwho by process of elimination and context clues was probably Agent Milgram¨Cexplained, still keeping one hand on the back of the kid¡¯s jacket. Which, huh, the kid was actually taller than both her and Milgram, he was just slouching. Not as tall as Wright, but, like...6¡¯ something to Milgram¡¯s 5¡¯10. ¡°We¡¯re hoping to avoid contact with ¡®Owl and Crow¡¯-¡± ¡°Ah, uh, might not need to for one of those,¡± the kid muttered, brushing at his neck¨Coh he was Ranked. Which might make him a lot older than expected and this was Luigi Scorava, right, okay. ¡°Number shifted down?¡± she asked instead of dwelling on that, then grinned at the hesitant nod, ¡°Then Nimia¡¯s taking care of your problem, and as the present representative of Altamirano Enterprises, I would like to say there¡¯s no need to thank us for our support in any way other than monetarily!¡± The agents shared a look as Scorava blinked in confusion, before Milgram shrugged. ¡°We can discuss payment after the mission is over. How does that sound?¡± ¡°Not great, considering your mission is an escort one and you¡¯re bodyguarding this guy and I doubt the ¡®mission¡¯ will be over after you get off the train.¡± Milgram shrugged again. ¡°Worth a shot. We¡¯ll discuss payment once the present dangers aboard this train are dealt with. Is that sufficient?¡± ¡°You bet it is! At least it will be once we get the invoice drawn up properly, but I can handle that after we save your principal. Speaking of, you two have a plan, right?¡± ¡°We have objectives. Keep the principal alive, eliminate all immediate threats, survive, get to our destination. Beyond that¡­¡± He looked to Wright, who hummed in thought. ¡°...Grantland, how effective would you be in a fight?¡± ¡°Decently?¡± She shrugged. ¡°I can shoot fine, and I already explained what weapons I know how to use.¡± ¡°...This is a risk, and maybe one we don¡¯t need to-¡± ¡°Ah hey, our last targets touched down! Huh. Siberian, how didn¡¯t-Oh, they were on the top for a while. Yeah, that would do it, no cameras up there,¡± Lupul muttered over the intercoms, ¡°Okay, it¡¯s fine, we¡¯ll move on. So, at thirty-thousand, we have Cougar and Leopard, and Jaguar¡¯s going to be another fifty-thousand. So if you kill her and Altamirano, you could tie with someone who just kills Scorava...oh, and apparently there¡¯s another person on here? Uh...Lisa Gran...Grantalan? How do you say this-Ah, never mind. Uh...she can be fifty points.¡± ¡°OH FUCK YOU! HOW THE FUCK AM I ONLY WORTH FIFTY?!¡± Eliza shouted, glaring at the nearest camera. ¡°Huh? Oh, uh...hey, so, I don¡¯t have audio on these, so...die mad, Liz. And to the rest of you, also die. Bye.¡± ¡°...¡± Wright nodded. ¡°Grantland, fortify this position and keep Lou safe. Garret and I will intercept the twenties.¡± Eliza blinked. ¡°Ah, you sure? That¡¯s a really bad idea, considering how bullshit the ranked can get.¡± ¡°We¡¯re aware. Still, we have a job to do, and so do you.¡± Milgram was already walking without hesitation to the next car, moving fast. Shit, she was really getting stuck on protection detail...well, less chance of dying in that case, but still. ¡°...good luck, big guy.¡± He just nodded back, shooting her a quick salute as he went after his buddy. Which left Eliza on bodyguarding. So she sized up Luigi, who looked nervous as hell. ¡°So, any reason you couldn¡¯t hunker down in your cabin?¡± ¡°H-Huh? Oh, um, th-the men in white were firing th-through the walls. They¡¯re, um, not that bulletproof.¡± ¡°Damn, and people pay luxury prices for this crap? Fucking pathetic¡­¡± She hummed, then decided to head behind the bar, gesturing for the kid to follow her. ¡°You drink?¡± ¡°...y-yes? Uh...should we?¡± ¡°Probably not, but I¡¯ve already got an antitoxin program running. Can¡¯t get drunk while it¡¯s on, which sucks, but it also neutralizes poisons, which is nice.¡± Which was good, because the bartender hadn¡¯t been subtle about that in the slightest. ¡°...Yeah, I don¡¯t have that.¡± ¡°So you can have soda. Careful about the retinal fluid, sticks worse than blood,¡± Eliza advised as she started sorting through the drinks, not really worried at this point. The big guy was ahead of her and Nimia was behind, so she was probably good. That was the fun part about working with capable people. You just didn¡¯t have to worry about any bullshit. ¡°Uh...hey, um...this is a weird question, but-¡± ¡°I kill people for money, so I compartmentalize. Obstacles and targets are fine to kill, but I can have friends and still care about them.¡± ¡°...a-alright, I guess that¡¯s good to know...I wanted to ask though, um...what¡¯s with the cowboy hat?¡± She paused in the middle of grabbing a sarsaparilla, glanced at the hat, then shrugged. ¡°Nim and I made a bet for this one. Whoever gets through this with their original hat still on wins. It can fall off, but you gotta put it back on, and it getting destroyed means the wearer loses.¡± Luigi was staring at her in blatant confusion. ¡°...you¡¯re in a life or death battle, and you make dumb bets?¡± ¡°Yeah, of course we do.¡± Eliza grinned. ¡°Cuz Nimia¡¯s going to win. No doubt about it.¡± 27 26 25 24 - Cats and Dogs
Match 22 #28 Nimia ¡°The Serpent¡± Altamirano Vs. #27 Litonya ¡°Cougar¡± Montoro #26 Hira ¡°Leopard¡± Corbett And #25 Ofelia ¡°Jaguar¡± Russo Vs. #24 Mihail ¡°The Hound¡± Lupul
Guest Starring: Luigi ¡°Mammone¡± Scorava Agent Garret Milgram Agent Wendell Wright Agent Noemi Shelburn
Inventory Darling - A mystical saber imbued with the powers of fire and ice; Fire LV 2, Ice LV 1 Death & Debt - Two .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums, formerly named Sonya & Cleon; imbued with fiery bullets. Lucky - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting. Rapier - Previously owned by Owl. Good for stabbing.
Noemi Shelburn was dealing with a lot of bullshit at the moment. White-suited freaks in plastic masks weren¡¯t outside her experience; she¡¯d read dossiers on the Pact before, she knew what Paradiso¡¯s ¡°overseers¡± tended to dress like with their fucked up ideals of professionalism, but the modifications they had were catching her off guard. Gunfire wasn¡¯t a problem for her, not anymore, but axes? Kind of catching her off guard, even as she weaved around slavers blowing holes through her papers. She formed quick enough to jab an electrified combat knife into a slaver¡¯s throat, but the fucker just gurgle-laughed, white blood spilling from the wound as he nearly took her head off with another cut. Then a bullet caught her in the head, sending a blast of papers out with the shot and she growled and rushed forward¨Csplitting around two more hatchetmen¨Cand leapt on the man firing, slamming hid to the ground and shoving her knife as deep into his eye as it would go¨CThen even more bullets went through her back as the man jerked and laughed, more and more white blood spilling from his body as he was lit up, and that was a problem because the blood was starting to cling. She burst back, shoving another knife back through the head of one slaver trying to get into the next cabin, but that just left more openings and¨C Then a woman in green, cybernetic armor and...a black cowboy hat(??) stepped through the opposite entrance and slammed her foot straight through the laughing man¡¯s head, his feet jerking off the floor as she crushed his head into pulp. Then she started shooting, pulling two handguns and shooting straight through every slavers¡¯ head in bursts of fire. And where knives and even bullets had barely done a thing, the flaming rounds blew skulls apart and sent the slavers dropping like charred flies. ¡°Fire kills them quick,¡± the woman offered, stepping closer and dismissing her guns as she went. Which was awfully trusting of her, but Noemi wasn¡¯t going to complain. ¡°I¡¯m not that good with fire, so...thanks.¡± ¡°You should work on that.¡± ...Was that sarcastic? ¡°You using that guy?¡± Noemi blinked, then stepped away from the pinned slaver, who was starting to struggle a lot more now that his buddies were dead. ¡°Thanks.¡± And the woman took a broken sword and stabbed what was left of its blade through the slaver¡¯s throat. She waited for a few seconds, then pulled it back and frowned. ¡°Hm. Right, not that then¡­¡± ¡°Uh...what?¡± ¡°Magic sword, broke it, trying to fix it.¡± She casually pulled one of her guns and shot the still struggling slaver through the head, taking care to aim away from Noemi, which was also appreciated. ¡°Do you have any ideas?¡± ¡°...Not really, sorry. I¡¯m more...it¡¯s kind of a psionic thing? Something with, uh, shifting the mental image of the body causing physical transformation.¡± ¡°Sounds radical, and also not helpful at the moment. What can you turn into?¡± ¡°Paper. It¡¯s pretty useful for infiltration.¡± She paused, then held out a hand. ¡°Bureau Agent Noemi Shelburn, Investigation Division.¡± The woman nodded, shaking her hand firmly. ¡°Nimia Altamirano, Ranked Twenty-Eight. You mind if I borrow your knife?¡± ¡°I have a lot of them,¡± Noemi answered absently, reassessing a whole lot of this situation in her head, ¡°And you can have them if you promise not to harm Luigi Scorava.¡± ¡°Is he ranked higher than me?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then we have no beef.¡± Nimia yanked the knife from the pinned corpse, then held out her hand. So Noemi handed her another knife. ¡°I click these on, they zap people?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°Awesome. Thanks.¡± And then both of them were off, moving straight through the cabins with only one look back on Noemi¡¯s part. Behind her, every cabin door was open, and all of them were full of corpses, still smoking from the holes blown through their bodies.
Jaguar sighed, scratching at her neck as she stared at the two women in her way. The Vandalia was still chugging along, moving from plains to forests, and she was still on the top of the train. Cougar and Leopard already went in to handle the overseers, but Jaguar was up here, dealing with knockoffs. Two of them, both in cybernetic armor. One was in orange with black stripes, and the other was in white with black stripes. ¡°...So, are you Tiger and Zebra?¡± ¡°Bengal and Siberian,¡± Tiger answered. ¡°And you think you can handle me. Or your boss does.¡± ¡°If Madam Summerton believes we can handle you, we can,¡± Zebra stated. Jaguar sighed again, deeper this time. ¡°That¡¯s cute. Sad, but cute. You get one shot.¡± They glanced at one another instead of charging. Not quite single-minded there. The hesitation was very human. Jaguar wasn¡¯t moving, just keeping her hands at her sides, her posture loose and relaxed¨CHer foot snapped up and sent Zebra straight off her feet. ¡°You said we had one shot,¡± Tiger complained, flexing the claws in her gauntlets. Her visor was meant to be opaque, but Jaguar could see the minute flick of her eyes towards her prone sister. The relationship was obvious. ¡°I did. Did I say anything about letting you take it?¡± Zebra was managing to push herself up, shaking, but the motions became less pained quicker than they would naturally. Modified healing then. Jaguar tilted her head, watching the two of them. ¡°So, does Boss Gigi have a thing about twins, or are you just replacing the brutes?¡± ¡°Triplets.¡± Tiger¡¯s voice was quiet, but it carried as Zebra stood back up, no sign of damage aside from a heavily cracked helmet. ¡°There were three of us.¡± ¡°...I¡¯m sorry, kid.¡± She meant it too. It¡¯s why she threw them off the train. It was two quick motions¨Ca backhand and a palm¨Cand the two of them were flung to opposite sides of the tracks. They could find one another when the train stopped, assuming they survived. Jaguar was, in some regards, a kind person. She was also a murderer. ¡°Find better names. Something for yourself,¡± she offered as parting advice, her words transmitted through their cracked helmets. If they took it, good for them. If they didn¡¯t, they would die. Summerton was going to pay for fucking around here, and Jaguar was looking forward to doing the job herself. Once she killed the snake¡¯s worthless mutt, of course.
Cougar worked methodically. She had little reason not to. Hasty decisions would rush the job. She did not work slowly though. She was thorough, not slow. When she stepped into a car, she sighted the targets present, communicated with Leopard, and eliminated them. The Overseers of Paradise were modified, so it took more effort than typical, but she worked effectively. Destruction of the brain and decapitation would remove the body¡¯s ability to function; the modified lacked regenerative abilities extensive enough to heal from such a wound. Victor could survive such a thing, but Victor was ridiculous, so that did not count. She was almost surprised not to see him hiding amidst the hired killers bolstering the Overseers ranks, dressed as conductors or regular passengers. He tended to infiltrate such¨C A shard of glass pinged off her helm, and she glanced to Leopard, who was already moving to the next car. She had been distracted. Unfortunate. Cougar pulled her machete free of the overseer¡¯s bisected skull, and cut the head off for good measure, before following Leopard out of the compartment and through the hall. Both of them carried swords, though Cougar preferred a set of saw machetes¨Cthe serrated backs of blades were good for both intimidation, and slow amputation¨Cwhile Leopard carried a pair of cutlasses. Cougar never asked what the story there was, but she knew there was one. There were two men in the next train car. That was not unexpected. They were the agents they were sent to kill, and both had white and red stains across their hands and clothes. They fought on the way, and the meat littering the floor suggested they had fought in this lounge car too. One of them smashed, the other cut; some chunks were crushed, some pieces were sliced off. ¡°Now that¡¯s just not fair. Why don¡¯t we get self-cleaning suits?¡± the blond man complained, in a tone suggesting he did not care for the complaint. It was said out of humor, not genuine annoyance. A joker. ¡°If you want to pay out for one, we can bring it up with the brass,¡± the large man replied, also in humor as he sized them both up. There was camaraderie there. How cute. Cougar raised a hand, pointing her blade at the large man, then moved it to the blond man, her threat clear. ¡°...Well shit. It was nice working with you, Wright.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not dead yet.¡± They would be. ¡°Factual, but optimistic.¡± The blond sighed and stood, pulling his jacket off. Then he continued and pulled his shirt off. Cougar was somewhat bewildered, but she was not going to stop him. ¡°Any reason why you¡¯re stripping?¡± ¡°I like that shirt. I¡¯d rather I didn¡¯t shred it.¡± Then he took a breath and erupted with spines and blades, his skin turning a steel gray as he shifted, his entire head now a mass of razor sharp blades sticking out at odd angles. ¡°Fair enough.¡± The large man did not undress, merely settled into a stance. Leopard would handle him, Cougar would take the formerly blond man. Simple¨C Then the opposite door slammed open and a woman in green armor stepped through. ¡°Huh. Greenie didn¡¯t mention one of the agents would be a blade man, but that¡¯s sort of rad.¡± ¡°...Uh...thanks?¡± The blade man appeared to be at a loss. Cougar sympathized. She spared a glance at Leopard, who was staring directly at the green woman. And then it clicked for Cougar. This was Altamirano. Unfortunate. Now she had to avenge Owl and the runt. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. You¡¯re also welcome for getting your paper pal to Lou back there. Nice kid, little nervous, and Greenie filled me in on everyone. I don¡¯t feel like recapping, we¡¯d just be repeating info, so head on back and relax in the spectator seats, got it? This is a ranked fight, not a cool weirdos with superpowers thing.¡± The two men glanced at one another, and the big man nodded. ¡°Thank you. I''ll trust you to handle things then.¡± ¡°Yeah, thanks. I¡¯m not really the death match type,¡± the blade man lied, before picking up his shirt and leaving very casually for a man turning his back on a predator. So Cougar threw her machete at the man, the blade flying straight and true at full force before Altamirano batted it aside with Owl¡¯s rapier, where it stuck straight in the wall. ¡°Leave the nice men in peace, kitty. Nobody likes a clingy cat.¡± Cougar disagreed. The men still left though, if somewhat more hurried. That was fine. They would die soon enough.
Jaguar ambled casually to the front of the train, her pace unhurried. Lupul made himself easy to find, though it wasn¡¯t like he was bothering to hide. The mutt was sitting right on top of the front car, his legs crossed as he held a transceiver to his ear. Which was making some kind of noise¡­ ¡°Are you listening to music?¡± she asked, pausing at a decent distance behind him. No need to get into range too quickly. ¡°Yup. I got bored. I don¡¯t get how announcer people just wait when there aren¡¯t announcements. Or maybe they don¡¯t? Maybe they wander off, live their lives...never thought of it before.¡± ¡°Is that any different from usual?¡± ¡°Nah. There¡¯s too much in the world to understand everything.¡± He stood and stretched, working the cricks out of his neck. He was wearing a full bodysuit of nanoweave, but without any armored plates. It was skintight, clinging to him, and he wore what looked like a sky-blue leather harness over his torso. It criss-crossed over his back and chest as he turned, showing how it wound up to a collar at his throat and down to loop at his thighs and over his biceps, winding up to his wrists. His head was fully covered, two narrow, visored slits in blue to serve as sights. On top of his head, he had a pair of white spikes, designed to look like pointed dog ears. ¡°And you don¡¯t bother to try.¡± ¡°Do you?¡± He shrugged, holding his hands at his sides, palms up. ¡°You live the same kind of life as mine. We¡¯re strong, but we¡¯re not...what¡¯s the word...free?¡± ¡°I¡¯m free. You¡¯re thinking ¡®independent¡¯.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Lupul shrugged again, scratching at the back of his head. ¡°So many syllables, you think they could use a simpler word.¡± ¡°Sure, simple, just like you. What was with the triplets back there?¡± ¡°Triplets? There¡¯s only two though. I know, I killed the third.¡± Jaguar¡¯s grin twitched under her helmet. ¡°Course you did. You¡¯ve always been a piece of shit.¡± ¡°Hey now, don¡¯t be rude. You know that rough talk gets me going, and that¡¯ll be embarrassing for both of us.¡± ¡°Why did you bring those girls? They weren¡¯t nearly enough to handle me.¡± ¡°I know that. I wanted to fuck with you. You¡¯ve always been soft for kittens. Boss thinks we can market them, ¡®Bengal and Siberian¡¯, but they¡¯re clones. Who gives a shit for those? We can still use the names, and this gives the names credits. I can say they helped me kill you, and who¡¯s going to know different?¡± ¡°Ha! Like you could kill me! You had five chances before this, and you fucked up all of them!¡± ¡°No, no, you have that reversed. You missed your opportunities, and now they¡¯ve run out.¡± ¡°Sure they have.¡± She rolled her shoulders, then flexed her wrists, forming two black gauntlets at the back of her hands. Simple metal plates with spiked knuckles, solid and brutal; the left was carved with a skull, while the right had a rose. ¡°Just one more question before I put you down, mutt.¡± His head tilted, questioning. ¡°You could work for anyone. You¡¯re trash, but you¡¯re tough trash. So why the slaver queen?¡± ¡°...That¡¯s your question, huh.¡± He crossed his arms over his chest, tapping one finger against his bicep. ¡°...Have you ever been fucked?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a personal question. Also a fucking weird one, mutt.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not getting me.¡± Lupul leaned forward, putting one hand on his chest, his voice intense. ¡°Have you ever been fucked? Not ¡®had sex¡¯, ¡®been fucked¡¯. Just stopped being a person with agency. Surrendered to another person, so completely and utterly, that there was no other thought in your mind but the pleasure they were giving you. Becoming a thing, not a person. Knowing they hold everything you could be in their power, that you have no choice and they do. Being dominated. Have you ever had that?¡± That was more passion than she ever heard from the callous bastard. But it explained something. ¡°No, that¡¯s a new one. And it looks like I lied. I have one more question.¡± She took a stance, watching for any hint of movement from him. ¡°Do you love her?¡± ¡°...¡± He didn¡¯t take any steps, just tilting his head back and staring at the sky. ¡°...I don''t think I do. I lust for her. That¡¯s enough.¡± ¡°...Maybe for you.¡± ¡°Do you love your rose, cat?¡± ¡°Yes. Like a patriot loves her flag.¡± ¡°Lame. But that¡¯s not new. You¡¯ve always been pathetic, you fucking cockroach.¡± Jaguar laughed without humor as orange flames licked up her armor, bursting out through the plates. ¡°Same to you, you shitty louse.¡± Both fighters rushed at the same time, fires burning off their bodies as they smashed fist against fist, sending plumes of orange and blue flames washing across the top of the train, before a flurry of blows collided with each other between the two, vicious and destructive, when Jaguar took the initiative and a leg sweep knocked Lupul down, a second kick sending him straight off the train when he thrust out a hand and caught the side with a spiked rope and yanked himself back on, landing easily. So easy toss was out¨C Then it was back to blocking and meeting kicks and punches, each hitting hard and sending a rush of heat over her body that her own heat easily met. Not enough to overwhelm him though, same as before, so the chances of this going on for a long while were pretty damn high. Maybe her girls were having better luck?
¡°Hey, real quick, before we start,¡± Nimia spoke up, holding up a hand to her pair of opponents. And hey, they actually humored her, so that was nice. Always good to get the polite killers. So she pointed to Leopard¨Cwho was really obvious with the spotted armor¨Cand continued, ¡°Do you wear leopard print undies?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± Cougar¨Cor at least who she figured was Cougar by process of elimination and lack of spots¨Cstared at her in visible confusion, apparently baffled, then looked to her partner, who looked very fidgety for a professional assassin. ¡°...Really?¡± ¡°...The pattern looks sexy.¡± Cougar sighed, then Nimia brought her rapier up to block the chop straight from her side¨Cso Cougar could teleport and moved straight to her side, took the machete in the wall, tore it out and¨CShe lurched back, dodging a stab, then ducked as Leopard rushed in, cutting and swinging as every light in the traincar burst at once, plunging the interior into pitch-black darkness. Nimia pulled an electro-knife, flipping it upside-down in her left hand and stabbed back, trying to catch distance with Leopard¨Cwhose armor was completely black now, looking like a living shadow and crap, the trees outside the train were casting big shadows through the windows, that was¨C She flinched back, blinking the spots from her eyes as Cougar erupted with light, shining a pure white as she¨CNimia twisted, parrying cuts from behind then kicked out, putting distance¨CCutlass nearly went through her there, she twisted just barely, Leopard was hiding in the darkness¨C Her vision was going weird, some kind of effect? Light and darkness were flashing through the windows, casting things in either pure black or pure white and the cats were hiding in both. Cougar was in the light, flashing between light beams, and Leopard was in the shadow, moving and twisting in ways a human couldn¡¯t naturally, so Nimia was on the back foot with two killers she could barely see¨C She drove her elbow back, smashing into steel and turned with the motion, nearly driving the knife through Cougar¡¯s head, then moved with the motion and thrusted at Leopard, catching the blades, and the two of them exchanged slices, steel ringing out as Nimia looked through the light spots, because there were only so many places she could¨CStolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. More spots in her vision but now because there was way too much light! Was the fucking forest on fire?! And it was, sort of, because up above Jaguar had been sent skidding across the train by a sharp kick from Lupul and flared her flames out to rocket straight back into the fight, sending plumes of fire out into the trees on either side, setting them all alight, but Nimia had no way of knowing that, so back to her suddenly being overwhelmed with light. But she could see Leopard just fine for a moment, so she lunged, telegraphing the stab and then whirling to kick Cougar straight in the face while chucking the knife at Leopard, before rushing in to take the chance¨CFuck, she moved! Nimia turned again, saw Leopard yank the knife from her shoulder, but Cougar wasn¡¯t there¨CShe brought up the rapier to block a hard cut from the side and scowled as she broke another sword straight in half, though Cougar¡¯s machete snapped too and when the 27th whirled, flashing behind Nimia again, she didn¡¯t bother with an elbow, turning faster and stabbing back into Cougar¡¯s throat with the extra knife she got from Papers. She didn¡¯t expect Cougar to drop her machete and grab her wrist though, holding her tight in place even as electricity coursed through the 27th¨CNimia tried to turn, but Cougar¡¯s free hand grabbed her by the neck as Leopard shoved one of those cutlasses straight through her back and out her front in a burst of blood and pain¨C Nimia wrapped her free arm around Cougar and yanked her into a tight hug, sending the sword stabbing through her chest piercing into Cougar¡¯s, then grabbed the cutlass¡¯s blade before Leopard could yank it back, holding it even as it cut into her hand¨CShe jerked her head, narrowly avoiding a thrust that would¡¯ve gone through her brain and twisted, trying to get away from¨C Then Cougar flashed away, and Nimia just had a fucking sword in her chest and a bitch in black lunging for her, the second blade gleaming in the light as she swung for her head¨C Then all the light from outside cut out all at once as the train entered a tunnel, plunging the whole cabin into pitch-black darkness, aside from the glowing bright white figure of¨CAnd Nimia lurched back, pulling her revolver even as the blade swiped through her throat, and fired three shots straight through Cougar¡¯s head.
28 -> 27
Nimia shoved the cutlass back, pushing it right out of her torso as she felt the burn at her neck, and let out a breath as the deep wound healed rapidly, along with the cut at her throat¨CThen she jerked, dodging stab after stab as Leopard lunged for her, thrusting and cutting faster and faster¨CCougar¡¯s light was flickering, the former 27th¡¯s collapsed and bleeding gold on the floor, so the 26th had to know what happened¨Cand definitely nicking her a few times¨CShit, she needed to grab the first cutlass, if Leopard got both at once¨C It clinked at her feet and she stepped back, kicking it up and catching the cutlass before she swung back, catching each swing and deflecting each thrust but she was still on the back foot, fighting an opponent that moved way too quickly and somehow was never where she tried to stab¨CThe dark, one used light, the other darkness, so she just needed light again and her fucking fire sword was broken¨C An idea clicked in her head and she decided to try a trick she already went for, bringing her broken darling out into her free hand and dove through the dark to stab it straight into the corpse. If it gained power through death, then blood should fix it, it was fucking logical¡­ But apparently the universe disagreed, because her darling was still broken and that made her seethe in building rage, unfair and petty as it was. Death match, don¡¯t complain, but fuck it, she liked her damn sword and now when the fucking fire would come in real handy, it wasn¡¯t¨C On instinct, she twisted and swung to try to catch the blade stabbing down at her, but she swung with her broken sword¨CWhich burst with fire as the blade reformed and caught straight against Leopard¡¯s cutlass, lighting the whole room up and searing away the shadows visibly roiling off of Leopard¡¯s armor. The 26th had looked twisted, taller and stretched almost inhumanly, but now she was normal, and Nimia grinned wide as the tide turned in her favor. And right on cue, they left the tunnel completely, bringing natural light back into the cabin. So Nimia pressed her advantage¨CAnd got a hard knee in the stomach for her troubles as Leopard snatched the cutlass from her grip and full on flipped backwards, making some distance between them. Then she let out a slow breath, and Nimia noticed a very sudden drop in temperature. Leopard stood, rolling her head as the black of her armor shifted. The black spots still stayed, but the primary color shifted to a grayish-white as snow started to flake off the 26th. ¡°Snow, huh...y¡¯know, this thing can turn icy too,¡± Nimia offered, testing the weight of her newly reformed saber in her right hand. She flicked her other wrist and brought Lucky back out, fully reloaded, one sword and one gun up against two swords. ¡°I haven¡¯t figured out how to get it really going though. Not to the same level as the fire.¡± ¡°...¡± Leopard tilted her head, considering that, then suddenly sent her arm shooting forward, stretching unnaturally as her armor flashed back to black¨Cbut it wasn¡¯t going for Nimia, instead grabbing Cougar by the ankle and yanking the corpse over, holding it upside down, where Leopard cut straight through it, splitting the body in half. Golden blood soaked the cutlass, then it seemed to soak in, and the sword lit up with a bright, white light that made the shadows roiling off the 26th noticeably start to curdle. Leopard tossed the corpse to the side, and her armor turned back to its white version, the frost on the windows rapidly returning as she rolled her wrist, showing off the now light-infused cutlass. ¡°That is how you do it.¡± ¡°...Hm. Thanks, I guess.¡± Leopard nodded, weirdly casual, then burst forward in a sudden rush of motion as Nimia fired, the bullets going straight through a body that was more snow than skin, then it was back to parrying and cutting and trying to deal with the fact that her opponent had two swords¨Cone of which was remarkably glowy¨Cand she had one. She was handling it pretty decently though, and having Lucky in the mix let her deflect some swipes with the very solid gun, and get some shots in that still didn¡¯t seem to do shit. The room was getting colder too, frost creeping faster and causing the windows to crack as snow started blanketing the floor. The temperature seemed to drop every second, and Nimia felt her armor starting to get stiff, the plates locking together as the cold hit them¨Cdefinitely needed temp regulators, thing to get after this fight¨Cand even with a burning sword, she couldn¡¯t actually hit Leopard with it. The 26th was a good swordfighter, Nimia had to give her that, so she dove past her and shot straight through the windows, smashing them to pieces and sending a rush of wind through the cabin. It wasn¡¯t quite enough to completely disperse the cold, but it didn¡¯t feel nearly as bad...and there was a lot of noise coming from up top, huh, and a lot of fire¨C¡°I¡¯m a fucking moron.¡± ¡°I noticed.¡± Nimia jerked back, narrowly avoiding two cutlasses stabbing into the floor beside her and rolled to avoid the sudden flash of bright light, getting to her feet and dismissing both her sword and her revolver in favor of bringing out Death and Debt. Her semi-automatic magnums which both had fiery bullets! Leopard stood, flicking her swords out at her sides as she studied the newfound confidence¨CThen she got shot through the eye, noticed it actually hurt, and very quickly realized that those were very burny bullets currently being shot at her. She jerked back, trying to switch back to her ¡°black panther¡± form and get out, when it clicked that she was still holding her light cutlass and that it didn¡¯t mesh well at all with her dark form. So¨C ¡°Fuck.¡±
27 -> 26
Nimia let out a slow breath, because, as anti-climactic as that was, her heart was racing like hell. Even with the burning sensation at her neck as her number changed, she took a moment to watch Leopard¡¯s corpse, riddled with bullets and slumped under a newly ventilated window. When the body fell over, she nearly shot it again, before letting out another breath and dismissing her guns. ¡°Right...Good fight. Not sure if I want to test the sword thing right now, I already screwed up on forgetting some of my stuff, so¡­¡± She shrugged, before taking both cutlasses and laying them in front of Leopard. ¡°We¡¯ll see how things go.¡± For now, she had one more fight to get to. First things first though, she needed to figure out where the hell her hat landed...
Jaguar snarled, the metal warping under her feet as she dug in, putting as much force as possible into her punch, smashing into Lupul¡¯s jaw as his fist crashed against hers, both of their heads snapping to the side before they both punched with their other fists, hitting each other at the same time. By this point, they weren¡¯t even blocking, just trying to wear the other fucker down and she slammed her skull full against Lupul¡¯s in a solid headbutt, cracking her already fractured visor even further. Then he clapped his hands to her head and sudden drove her down, smashing his knee straight into her face, and as she rocked back, he went full force, punching straight for her head when she grabbed his forearm and twisted, throwing him straight over her shoulder, only for him to roll straight to his feet¨C She paused, staring at Nimia Altamirano as the woman flipped up onto the roof of the train. Her being here meant her team was dead. That was a shitty feeling. The younger woman, fully armored and wearing a cowboy hat for some reason, stared back as Lupul stood to his full height, glancing from her to Jaguar and back again. ¡°...heh. Guess we got a new partner here. Always did strike me as a slut, Jag.¡± ¡°Buddy, you have zero right to comment on sexual preference with that get-up,¡± Altamirano stated, sounding unimpressed and earning a flare of flame from Lupul. ¡°Mmh, alright, you can say that. Already hard here, so fuck it.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t need to know that, but kay.¡± Altamirano flicked a hand out, and that was a gorgeous sword in her hand, burning with murderous passion and open rage¡­ ¡°Another fire? And it¡¯s even colder than Jag¡¯s. Lame.¡± Lupul rolled his shoulders, turning to face her and away from Jaguar. ¡°That¡¯s fine though. I can handle you¨C¡± ¡°Awwww shit! Look at this!¡± Nero¡¯s voice echoed out from below them, over the intercoms, catching Lupul and Altamirano¡¯s attention, ¡°Goddamn, we missed some shit! Now that ain¡¯t fair, you three oughta give me some warning! What¡¯re our gracious viewers gonna think if they miss a huge chunk of action!? ...Wait, they knew? We didn¡¯t? Aw, bitches, runnin¡¯ around with us¡­ ¡°Whatever! Point goin¡¯ on here is that there¡¯s a threeway up on train top! The twenties¨Cwhich, by the way, only count for twenty-nine through twenty-five so c¡¯mon, you really gonna stick to that nickname? Really? Any rate, most outta five are dead, no spoilers, and the boss of the bunch, that¡¯s a Miss Ofelia Russo, born and raised pitfighter from Xiomara, is up against longstanding rival and evil sonofabitch, Mihail Lupul! That¡¯s right, this¡¯s a grudge match, and Nimmy, that¡¯s our own Nimia Altamirano, is interruptin¡¯! Not quite sportin¡¯, but hey, this ain¡¯t a sport! ¡°Anyway, yadda yadda, match is already goin¡¯, blood¡¯s been spilled, don¡¯t steal my fuckin¡¯ bit Lupul, and the grand prize is some scrawny kid from the Scorava¡¯s! So aim for the prize, take what you want, and don¡¯t forget to grab Jaguar there, cuz she¡¯s already runnin¡¯!¡± ¡°Wha-¡± Mihail whirled, looking to see Jaguar sprinting down the length of the train, then scowled furiously, immediately throwing his hand out and launching his tether straight for her, aiming to spear the coward in the back¨CWhen she ducked under it, grabbed the edge, and suddenly yanked, throwing him up and much, much further than before as his tether unspooled. His eyes went wide, a yelp slipping out as he¡¯s thrown, before he shook off his surprise, still mid air and already twisting, throwing his hand out to blast out a burst of flame, shifting his momentum back before she could throw him right in front of the train¨C And Jaguar smirked, twisting her grip on the cord she had between both her hands, looped partially around her forearm, and yanked, full force, once Lupul¡¯s feet hit the train. In an instant, any balance he had was ripped away and he was thrown upward again, his eyes going wide at the sheer strength the damned bitch still had, but he shook it off, again, because he was still stronger and as long as he kept his eyes on her¨C Nimia stepped forward, one hand on her saber, and cut straight up, carving right through Lupul and splitting him in half in one swift motion. He flew past her, the cord severed and a brief flash of confusion hitting him as he tried to figure out how he was seeing in two places at once¨C
26 -> 24
¡°...¡± ¡°Heh.¡± Jaguar reached up, and shoved at her shoulder, trying to pop it back into its socket. It just...wasn¡¯t quite working at the moment. There was a rush going through her body. Post-fight jitters, where all the adrenaline...didn¡¯t quite bleed off. The cord was still looped around her right forearm, and maybe that was cutting off circulation. She hadn¡¯t been fixed up from Lupul''s death. It wasn¡¯t her win. ¡°...Alright. I¡¯ll give you that one,¡± Altamirano said, shrugging. Her armor was soaked with Lupul¡¯s blue blood, though there was plenty of red staining it too. ¡°It was more your fight than mine, wasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°You could see it like that, sure! I prefer to think of this as a mutual kill here, and an opportunity for the both of us!¡± ¡°I¡¯m not interested in joining your group. I¡¯m going to kill your boss at some point for his rank, so it would be awkward for all of us.¡± Jaguar bit back a laugh. Altamirano¡¯s confidence was just too cute, even if Jaguar was still pissed at the new 24th for killing her teammates. ¡°Sure, sure, awkwardness should be avoided, I get that. It¡¯s all good with me. All I¡¯m asking here is that you let me walk away. You¡¯re ranked higher, so there¡¯s no need for us to fight.¡± ¡°Sure, go ahead.¡± ...Well that was easy. Weird. ¡°Huh. Hey, just one question here. If you¡¯re fine with letting me go, why didn¡¯t you just kill Lupul first and skip over my whole team?¡± Altamirano shook her head. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t work. For one thing, I¡¯m not trying to skip. Fate moves in strange ways, but a general truth is that a ranked can¡¯t kill another ranked if they¡¯re too high up. Maybe you¡¯ve given it a try, maybe you haven¡¯t, but there¡¯s an order to it. And you can¡¯t honestly tell me your teammates hadn¡¯t warranted killing.¡± ¡°Is that a moral stance I hear? From a murderer?¡± ¡°Yup. The way I see it, everyone with a number is a guaranteed killer. Maybe that makes it better, maybe it doesn¡¯t, but my conscience is already ruined.¡± ¡°...I lied about the question. I want to ask more. Who was your first kill?¡± ¡°Ocer. That¡¯s the only name I knew him by. My teacher, Amber, guided me through it. It was with a knife, so I knew what I was doing the whole time. Just one stab, right through the neck. Unless you mean before that? Because I helped my dad put down a diseased coyote back in the day. Used a knife then too, after he shot it. He wanted me to get a good feel for what it took before he let me help with the farm animals.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Isn¡¯t it weird? Two people, two different life experiences, and they still wanted me to learn the same lesson...Can I ask who yours was?¡± ¡°Sure you can, ask away.¡± Jaguar smirked at the audible huff, then sat down, cross-legged on top of the train, thinking back to the sunny streets of her seaside hometown. ¡°Hm...I don¡¯t actually remember his name. He was a kid I knew, that I grew up with. There was always something off about him, and he tried to strangle me one day, so I jammed my thumb into his eye, punched him down, and just kept hitting until I figured out I should be stomping instead...I think he wanted something I had? Maybe?¡± ¡°...That¡¯s...rough. I¡¯m sorry?¡± ¡°Oh don¡¯t be. I never went to jail for it, and my own pops wasn¡¯t the type to notice if I looked bloodier than usual. Hell, he got mad at me for dripping water in the house after I tried showering off with the hose.¡± ¡°...¡± Altamirano wasn¡¯t sitting. That was a concern. ¡°...You were a pitfighter after that?¡± ¡°Yup. I had a talent, and it brought in cash. Pops always bet on me too. I took the name ¡®Jaguar¡¯ back then, and I¡¯ve kept it ever since. Leopard was my first real teammate, partner, all that. I recruited her from a paramilitary group down south. Cougar was a fixer for another mob, Owl was a professional assassin, and Crow wanted in. She made her own way with her own skills, and I respected that.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sharing a lot.¡± ¡°Maybe you¡¯re easy to talk to. No take backs on letting me live, right?¡± ¡°No. At least, I didn¡¯t think so. It depends a lot, right now, on if you¡¯re still going for Luigi Scorava or not.¡± Fuck. ¡°...You shouldn¡¯t go back on your word, kid.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t give you my word. I¡¯m still willing to let you leave. I just don¡¯t want you to hurt that guy.¡± Jaguar chuckled as she pushed herself back to her seat, faking a slight stumble before she stood straight. ¡°That¡¯s really nice of you, Nimia¨CCan I call you Nimia?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Thank you. I just want you to think this over. How much do you actually know about this kid? You know he¡¯s ranked, right?¡± ¡°I know. He¡¯s not higher than me.¡± ¡°But he¡¯s still a murderer. And you don¡¯t totally care about that, I know, but have you given any thought to who he murdered? Or how about to what family he¡¯s from? You might be biting off way more than you can chew here if you piss off Don Scorava. He¡¯s a fair man, to his friends, but he¡¯s not gentle to his enemies.¡± ¡°I already killed at least three of his best.¡± Three? ¡°I think I¡¯m already on his shitlist.¡± Jaguar ignored the suggestion one of her teammates might be alive, focusing on the conversation and just how she could get through this without fighting a bad match. Closing the distance wasn¡¯t smart, not with the sword, and she didn¡¯t like her chances in another slugfest, not with how sore she felt. ¡°Not yet, you¡¯re not. Losses suck, but sometimes they happen. You weren¡¯t trying to screw with the job then, it was just collateral from your own mission. So there¡¯s no need to shed any more blood.¡± ¡°So you¡¯d let the agents live then?¡± ¡°Of course I would,¡± Jaguar lied, ¡°I have non-lethal techniques that I can use to incapacitate. I don¡¯t have to kill them.¡± ¡°But you would still be taking a man against his will to the people he wanted to get away from.¡± ¡°Yes, but the Scorava¡¯s are his family! They care about him, he would be fine there. The Bureau just wants to use him, we¡¯re just returning him home. His family would never hurt him.¡± ¡°I doubt that. I really doubt that.¡± She sighed, then stared straight at her, and Jaguar felt a rush of tension hit her at the sight of those green eyes, somehow bright through the visor. ¡°I killed my brother, y¡¯know? I had two brothers, Marco and Hector. Marco was executed in front of me by men killing for money. Hector, I killed on my own, because he destroyed our family. For money. So I killed the men who killed for money, I killed the man who paid them money, I burned his mansion to the ground, and then I drove after my brother in that shitty truck he stole to get away. She looked up at the sky as the sun came out from behind the clouds. ¡°I shot the other men in the truck first. The ones from the manor. The truck flipped, at some point, and I remember how he crawled. His last words to me were ¡®Nimia, for the love of God, please¡¯. I feel like I should have said something. ¡®Yes, for the love of God¡¯, maybe. But I didn¡¯t. I just shot him.¡± ¡°...¡± Jaguar nodded, slowly. She still had a gun in her inventory. A black handgun, a custom job. All of them had at least one. ¡°You had your revenge, and it wasn¡¯t enough.¡± ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t. Because to take it, I had to kill the man with the money, and he was Ranked. So now...why not? Either I get to the top, or I live long enough to die. And that¡¯s not a life.¡± Nimia lowered her gaze, those fucking eyes still boring into her soul. ¡°I want to win. You don¡¯t need to die for that.¡± ¡°Sure. How well do you even know this man, hm?¡± ¡°Not at all. I said hi, talked to Eliza, and went this way once I knew what the situation was. I said maybe two words to him, max.¡± Jaguar scoffed. ¡°And you¡¯re willing to die for a man like that? For nothing?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m not willing to die. I¡¯m willing to kill though.¡± She sighed, slowly shaking her head. ¡°God help compassionate idiots¡­¡± Then snapped her hand up, the gun formed¨C Jaguar jerked back, six shots going straight through her chest and a seventh piercing right through her eye, snapping her head back hard. Then she dropped, flat against the top of the train, watching the clouds cover the sun again...
The Vandalia stopped a lot sooner than it should¡¯ve. There were a few reasons for that; aside from all the carnage and murder that¡¯d gone on aboard it, the engineers at the front were all already dead, and Nimia really didn¡¯t trust herself to stop the train properly at an actual station. Visions of accidentally derailing the whole thing and somehow smashing it through an orphanage played through her head as she tore the wiring out of the front console. Smart guess was that no power meant the whole thing would stop as its momentum slowed on the flat stretch of land, and she was right about that, so once it slowed to a stop, she hopped off and started walking to the back. Safe bet was that everyone moved to the back of the train to avoid the fighting, and it quickly became clear Nimia was 2 for 2 today on guesses. Shelburn and the big black dude were pulling corpses from the cars and laying them out on the field while Greenie, Lou, and the white guy were chatting closer to the train. Well, Greenie and Stabby were chatting, Lou was staring at the bodies with a haunted look. Definitely not a natural killer there. ¡°Yo, Greenie!¡± Nimia called out, raising a hand in greeting as her minion glanced over. ¡°Hey boss! I see you¡¯ve still got your hat, but I¡¯ve still got mine, so-¡± Greenie paused as Nimia flicked her hat off, then frowned. ¡°...That¡¯s cheating.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t say it was. I win. Speaking of, are you handling payment here?¡± ¡°Oh yeah, Milgram here wanted to negotiate an extension on that, by the by.¡± Nimia looked to the agent, who was still shirtless, and raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. ¡°Having a professional mercenary and a ranked killer on our side sounds good when we might have to deal with other ranked killers.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s easy math.¡± ¡°My first instinct is to say no, but I want to hear your offer first.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Three billion dollars?¡± ¡°Done. What¡¯s your bank account-¡± Milgram paused, then glanced up at the big guy looming over him. ¡°Heya Wright. The ladies want three bil to stay onboard.¡± ¡°...¡± Wright looked at Nimia. ¡°Did he send you the money already?¡± And Nimia looked at Greenie, who shook her head. ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Right. That...might need to be further negotiated. Is it a blanket payment for the whole job?¡± Nimia shrugged. ¡°Sure, I can be generous. But I also want a¡­¡± She looked at Greenie again. ¡°Can you fly a plane?¡± ¡°I can fly a helicopter.¡± Nimia nodded, looking back to Wright. ¡°I also want a helicopter.¡± ¡°I can guarantee a helicopter.¡± ¡°You also cover all travel expenses.¡± ¡°We were already doing that.¡± ¡°Then I need one more thing. Can I talk to Lou?¡± ¡°...¡± The agents looked at each other, before Wright slowly nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll be traveling together for however long this takes, so sure.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± She nodded to them, then went over to the man in question, who was still staring at the corpses. ¡°Afternoon.¡± ¡°...G-Good afternoon,¡± he greeted back, then took a slow breath and looked towards her. His red eyes were shaky, looking like they wanted more than anything to look anywhere else. Where else that was, Lou didn¡¯t seem to know. ¡°...Thank you. For, uh...for keeping everyone safe.¡± ¡°I was here to kill the Ranked on the train. Protecting you guys was incidental.¡± She stared down at him, watching him fidget and nearly look away. ¡°That will happen to you one of these days.¡± ¡°...H-Ha. It¡¯s already happening¡­These were the first...really trying to kill me though. Rest wanted me alive.¡± ¡°What number are you?¡± ¡°...T-Two hundred and...s-seventy ei-...no, no, uh, seventy-four now, I think. Seventy three? Some of the burns were...close. I dunno.¡± ¡°You can check in a second. My point here is that you have someone guaranteed to go after you. The two seventy-fifth, two seventy-fourth, whoever¡¯s behind you, is going to want you dead for the number you have. Someone will want you gone so they can get just a little closer to the peak. And they will try to find you, no matter where you go.¡± He was staring at her now. Not quite evenly, but his eyes were stuck on hers. ¡°...y-yeah. I know.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t live forever. That¡¯s not how this works. You might live long, or you might die quick, but you will die at some point. All that number guarantees is that your death will be violent. You can¡¯t go gentle. Not anymore.¡± ¡°Yeah. Yeah. I...I know. I do.¡± ¡°So what are you going to do, when they get you where you¡¯re going? You know, one day, someone will go for you. Maybe they¡¯ll be bold and open about it, challenging you. Or maybe they¡¯ll just shoot you in the head while you¡¯re walking to get groceries. If you climb to the highest peak in the world, someone will climb. If you sink the lowest depths of the oceans, someone will dive. What are you going to do about it?¡± ¡°Die, I guess.¡± Nimia raised an eyebrow. She waited for the rest. ¡°...¡± Lou shrugged, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head. ¡°...I¡¯m not a fighter. I¡¯m not a good killer. I¡¯m not a good son...If someone comes to kill me, for my rank...I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll live.¡± Nimia nodded. ¡°Want me to do it, right now? I¡¯ll make it quick. I might have to fight your buddies, but I promise I won¡¯t kill them. Just you.¡± ¡°...¡± He swallowed. ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± Lou took a slow breath, then shook his head. ¡°No.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a way out. An easy one. I¡¯ll be quick, and you¡¯ll know it¡¯s coming. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll be painless, I can¡¯t guarantee that, but I would try to make it.¡± It wasn¡¯t a real argument. She just wanted to check. And he shook his head again. ¡°No. I don¡¯t...It¡¯s not that...It¡¯s not selfless. Don¡¯t think that. I¡¯m just...I don¡¯t want to die. I have...there¡¯s more. I could do more.¡± Lou let out a shuddering breath, but nodded. ¡°I want to live.¡± ¡°Decent answer. Do you want to climb? To get out?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m fine where I am. I don¡¯t want to kill anyone else.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯re going to die. Sooner or later, you will.¡± ¡°Yeah. Someday I¡¯ll die, and I won¡¯t know where it comes from. Like a regular person.¡± Nimia nodded. ¡°If that¡¯s your path. Hope you enjoy it.¡± ¡°...It could be yours-¡± ¡°No, it won¡¯t. I could. But I won¡¯t.¡± ¡°...What do you feel when you kill someone?¡± ¡°Triumph.¡± He stared at her, red eyes meeting green. The coward and the killer. And there was¨Cawful or glorious or mundane as it was¨Ca respect there. Nimia took the job. On the additional conditions that the agents taught her and Greenie how to do the psionic stuff. It seemed handy. She also doubled back to go get those cutlasses from Leopard¡¯s body, and found both the swords and the corpse were completely gone. And up top, Jaguar¡¯s body had vanished too. So that was a potential issue down the line. Well, something to figure out when it came up. For now, she had an escort mission to complete.
¡°Mmm...ah, Mister Wakuri?¡± Mantis tapped at her helmet, frowning a little. ¡°Miiiister Wakuuuuri? Are you there? Calling? Speaking? H-Hello hello?¡± Then she jumped at the sudden crackle of noise in her ear and shook her head, trying not to curse her boss¡¯s perfectly fine equipment that definitely worked just fine and wasn¡¯t getting busted or something. And if it did, it wasn¡¯t her fault, because she definitely didn¡¯t try throwing her helmet at a toad to scare it away or anything like that¡­ ¡°I read you, Miss Mantis,¡± came the reply of her superior, and she tried not to sigh with relief at the sound, ¡°Do you have anything to report?¡± ¡°Ah, yes, I found one individual.¡± She poked the wrecked body lying on a bloodstained patch of grass with a stick, staring at the mass of broken black. There was clearly a person in there, under black fabric, but they¡¯d lost limbs. Maybe an arm? Or a leg...or both. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s alive-¡± She flinched as a hand gripped the stick, clutching it hard enough to crack. ¡°...Confirmation that Crow of the ¡®Twenties¡¯ is still alive.¡± ¡°Good. I presume she still retains her rank?¡± ¡°I would have to check, and¡­¡± She tried to twist the stick, frowning under her full-faced helmet¨Csimple civilian garb for the moment, the black jeans and camo hoodie marking her as a scavenger¨Cas it snapped. ¡°It would be inappropriate to undress a girl out in public, sir.¡± ¡°It would, yes. I appreciate your consideration.¡± ¡°Thank you, sir! How goes it with the other two? Ah, if I can ask, sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine, Miss Mantis. They¡¯ve already been extracted via fulton. Can you do the same for Miss Crow?¡± ¡°Hm¡­¡± Mantis studied the broken woman, watching the rattle of her breaths, the twitch of her clearly broken limbs...and the utterly vicious glare she was giving through the broken lenses of her mask. Not so broken then, and a little scary as a result¡­ ¡°I think that might hurt her worse.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll route the jeep to your location. Do take good care of her on the way.¡± ¡°Understood, sir!¡± She nodded, then crouched by Crow, watching her carefully for any movement. Still some struggle, but it was weak. Maybe anger was keeping her going? Maybe. The burning rage, the type that builds in your chest and pounds in your head, and drives you do lash out even when it¡¯ll hurt you ,break you, even when your body was screaming at you to stop, the type that would shatter your hand to splinters in order to punch out God... Mantis let herself smile, unnatural as it always felt. Even knowing her boss¡¯s plans, what would happen and could happen, didn¡¯t keep the anxious excitement down. She found someone like her. And she was going to be her very best friend. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re going to be great.¡± S1 - The Powers that Be
Match 23 Recap: Who¡¯s Who Hosted by Nero the Zero
A single screen blurred with static, crackling until it settled on an image. Colored bars, in a row, with the dim sound of a drawn out, artificial noise, that resolved itself into a voice. ¡°Stories start and stop all around the world. Folks of all stripes paint their marks and scrawl their words on this big, grand tapestry all of us call our history. Some leave big ones, painted treaties and written flags in black and white, while others are short, sharp, and quick splats of red.¡± The image resolved again, forming into a shadowed man at a shadowed desk, smiling at the viewer. The MC¡¯s teeth stood a stark white, framed and contrasted by his shadowed skin. ¡°Howdy y¡¯all. It¡¯s been a while since you¡¯ve had the pleasure of seein¡¯ me! A cameo¡¯s not enough, y¡¯know? But let¡¯s leave that aside. No need for reunions when we¡¯re fixing for a recap. ¡°Well, not quite. Not exactly that, at all, in any way. It¡¯s less a recap and more an incomplete explanation, an exposition on just what kinda powers run this ruined Earth. You¡¯ve met some, but not others, and we here think it¡¯s best you get that chance, to be informed, to know the world. So let¡¯s start at the most relevant, cuz who gives a shit otherwise? ¡°The Pact. You¡¯ve heard the name, I know you have, and you know it¡¯s a power. The States, the Kingdoms, the Pact. The West, the East, the South, in certain terms, in certain ways of thinkin¡¯, but we¡¯ll get to that. The Pact is a name for what it sounds, an agreement between powers, an alliance of monsters. Some places are fine, most aren¡¯t. Human life has value as a commodity, as entertainment, not as people livin¡¯ lives. That¡¯s what happens when the people in power don¡¯t give any shits. But let¡¯s dispense with the metaphors and get to the specifics. ¡°The Pact is an alliance of communities once called ¡®raider tribes¡¯, to one degree or another, that stretches across the southern hemisphere of our little blue marble. Not just one nation, but hundreds, all tied up under the influence of three names you outta already know: Paradiso, Grindhouse, and Tombstone. ¡°Course, most¡¯a these places ain¡¯t directly run by the Three Queens. Aces though they are, they¡¯re not the ¡®governin¡¯¡¯ types, and plenty¡¯a these countries have leaders all their own. Hell, most are democratic! So don¡¯t go thinkin¡¯ the States are any kind of bastion, you got it? Corruption runs through nations like blood through a body. Or more like tumors? Yeah, tumors sound better, blood¡¯s more beneficial, less cloggy. Oh, clots! Clots work. ¡°And speakin¡¯ of blood clots, let¡¯s talk about the first of the Pact, Paradiso. And that¡¯s first as in first on the list, goin¡¯ from least to most, or most to least, on account of how the ranks work. Point is, they¡¯re the most prominent right now, so let¡¯s talk about Slaver¡¯s Paradise, and how it¡¯s bein¡¯ run. Course, they say a lot about showin¡¯ instead of tellin¡¯, so enjoy a few shows. I¡¯d recommend lookin¡¯ for the next time I talk if you¡¯re the especially squeamish type, but then, this¡¯s already a plenty gory story. Who knows though? Shit hits different, dependin¡¯ on who you are.¡± The screen changes, switching from the talkative host to a sequence of images. People in yellow jumpsuits, both men and women, of varying skin tones, all working. Most had their heads shaved bald with tattoos on them, barcodes at the backs of their heads, colored diamonds at their temples, things to note who they belonged to and where they worked. Some were in factories, some were in mines, some were in fields. Some got hardhats. Most didn¡¯t. The views panned, showing their overseers, people in white masks. They dressed differently, more appropriately for the environments they were in. Raincoats in downpours, hardhats for construction, lights for mines, sweaters when it was cold, tank tops when it was hot. Many were tattooed too, with winged diamonds on their arms. Some watched from comfortable rooms, others were right in the field, but none were laboring. They waited outside the entrances to mines, covering the only exits; they watched from hills above the fields, with assault rifles for ¡°protection¡±; their hands teased at remotes, whips, switches, waiting for calls to inflict pain. The image changed to an overseer¡¯s bare back, focusing on it as he moved, a sharp crack echoing out as he worked with a whip. Inked on his flesh was the image of a woman, bound in a coiling snake, winding up her naked body. In its mouth, it held an apple, and she looked longingly at the offered fruit, just out of reach. Written on a banner under it, winding across his skin, was the simple word: PARADISE. A logo was shown, displaying what the tattoo mimicked. A warmer image, of a woman reaching her hand out to a snake, lit by a sun behind her. The snake still held an apple in its mouth, offering it to the woman as it wound around the branch of an unseen tree. PARADISO was the word beneath this one, along with legalese describing the business practiced by the ¡°Paradiso Private Employment Company¡± and its copyrights. ¡°Paradiso is a legitimate business. Fully legal in a good chunk of the world, purely for what it has to offer. It doesn¡¯t matter how advanced mankind gets, there¡¯s always gotta be someone doin¡¯ the shit job. Course, you¡¯re not likely to see Paradiso¡¯s ¡®workers¡¯ at any fast food joint. They¡¯re more blue collar focused than pink collar, and as for white collar...well, there¡¯s some interestin¡¯ bits to that goin¡¯ on at a certain place called Cross Corp, a business that¡¯s very enthusiastic about Paradiso¡¯s services, but you¡¯ll be seein¡¯ that around the twenty-first spot, assumin¡¯ things play out as we¡¯re expectin¡¯. ¡°But enough about that. Paradiso has earned its keep through the sale of flesh and muscle. They profit through selling workers in bulk to do the rough jobs, and they reap all the rewards just fine. You want a diamond ring? Hands caked in blood dug it up. You want a phone? A woman who can¡¯t go home put it together. You want chocolate? You¡¯d be fuckin¡¯ surprised who ¡®helped¡¯ grow the beans. Suffice to say, the bird of paradise spreads its wings far. ¡°Course, that don¡¯t mean they¡¯re untouchable.¡± The screen switched back to a previous sight of overseers in a security room, checking feeds in a factory when an armed squad of soldiers kicked in their door, spreading in as the slavers stood, confused, shouting about permits. The soldiers¨Cdressed in ballistics armor akin to riot police, albeit completely crimson¨Copened fire without hesitation, and every overseer was gunned down on the spot. ¡°No one¡¯s untouchable. Let that fact sink in.¡± More soldiers, now in grassy camo, made their way through the fields, cutting the overseers¡¯ throats. They gurgled, clutching at red ruins as their killers moved on without a second thought. ¡°It don¡¯t matter how big someone is, how important, how loved, how hated, how immortal. Someone can kill ¡®em.¡± White-masked slavers in offices were shot in the head. Some were left alive as a demonstration, bound hand and feet and placed in the center of their security rooms. The rooms were doused in gasoline, and the soldier with the lighter waited for the panicked pleas for mercy before he tossed the hungry flame inside. ¡°Death comes for everyone, and if you do evil shit, evil shit comes back around.¡± A shirtless man was dragged, kicking, clawing, out of a blood-drenched room in the slums of a city. No one cared what happened in that warehouse, no one looked at the ¡°new blood¡± brought in, no one cared about their ¡°training¡±. They took notice as figures in red looped a rope around the slaver¡¯s throat, tossed it up and over a street lamp, and pulled. ¡°But don¡¯t mistake retribution for justice. They can intersect, it¡¯s a whole thing. Retributive justice and restorative justice, look it up. Point is, the evil bastard who hates my enemy is still an evil bastard.¡± Fields burned, sending plumes of thick smoke into the sky. Mountains shuddered as mines were blown to pieces, deliberately caved in. Ships were sunk with planted bombs, the slavers aboard already corpses, and men with guns waited at airfields for the planes to land. The slaves in the fields, those who weren¡¯t killed in the crossfire, ran, desperate for a way home as the men in red paid them no mind. They did not evacuate the slaves from the mines. They did not care for the slaves on the ships. If anyone survived their liberation, fine, it was good PR. If not, they didn¡¯t give a shit. No one would ever know. No one would ever watch. ¡°Paradiso is run by its CEO, Chairwoman, whatever you wanna call her, Giselle Summerton. A hateable woman by a lot of standards, but who knows what yours might be? Course, she¡¯s not the only top dog in the company, just the toppest. There¡¯s a board of directors too, major shareholders who help run things smooth, and executives that handle most of the logistics. Which makes them fair targets.¡± The screen showed a man in a suit with a flag on his lapel step into a limo and find himself facing a blond man with red eyes, who offered him a drink and some time to talk. He wanted to talk shop, make an offer. The man in the suit was useful, so he didn¡¯t need to die, right? Everything would be fine if he just sat and talked things out. So the sweating man sat, and got a bullet to the head three seconds later. ¡°That¡¯s what war is. A woman¡¯s pride is pricked, so she kills some people. A man invested in those people, so he kills more people to retaliate. So the war for Paradise continues. We¡¯ll see if any of them make it out alive. ¡°On the subject, there¡¯s another group attached to both of these proud motherfuckers. You know ¡®em, to a degree, but let¡¯s talk about the Grindhouse now, the second of our three clots, and one that¡¯s nicer in some ways, and just as bad in others. It¡¯s hard to be worse than slavers, you really have to try for it, but while they don¡¯t sell slaves, the Grindhouse doesn¡¯t have any real objection to usin¡¯ ¡®em.¡± The image on the screen switched to the interior of a warehouse, where rows of people could be seen working at tables, packaging powders and dried leaves. Unlike the slaves in Paradiso¡¯s fields, all of them were naked save for the sacks over their heads, all painted with simple smiley faces. Around the room, guards relax, uncaring. Most smoke. Unlike the workers, they at least wear pants, though nearly all of them are topless, showing the heart symbols tattooed on their chests. All of them have prominent veins, showing through their skin. Even those with naturally dark skin share this trait. Their eyes, when they can be seen, are bloodshot, their pupils dilated. The logo for The Grindhouse is a simple one, consisting of an open mouth surrounding a red heart. Sometimes the heart is stylized, sometimes it¡¯s realistic. The teeth are typically yellow, but sometimes they¡¯re white or red. One man takes the name very literally, and wears the image of a house on his back, where the front has been torn off to show the eager jaws of an industrial grinder. He displays it proudly as he walks through a field where naked people in burlap sacks cut and gather leaves from the crops grown there. He shouts encouragement, offers rewards, and aside from the machete sticking from his belt, he shows no hint that he may hurt these people. For most of them, the thought never crossed their minds, and for the rest, they just keep up with their work, careful not to draw attention. Work is work, and trouble isn¡¯t worth it. ¡°Slavery¡¯s a common evil, when you really think about it. Everyone needs labor backin¡¯ ¡®em up. Weapons gotta be made, chores gotta be done, and cheapass bosses never wanna pay their dues. Gigi¡¯s wrong ¡®bout a lotta things, but she¡¯s very right when it comes to no one with power ever wantin¡¯ to pay for it. ¡°Back to the Grindhouse though, the second on our list, it¡¯s run by Vivian LoVullo, who you haven¡¯t seen as much of. That¡¯s not strange though, you gotta hide the bigger bosses for their big shows. She has lieutenants, named after organs mainly, and they run their own areas, holdin¡¯ turf. Sometimes, she tours those places, makin¡¯ sure they ain¡¯t fuckin¡¯ her over. Some say all the cartels in the world march to her tune, either cuz one of hers runs ¡®em, or cuz they get supplied by her. It¡¯s not true, but she¡¯s got influence, and if things pop off between her and any other faction...Well, she does run the biggest gang of raiders out there. Turns out, people are a lot more willin¡¯ to work for the charmin¡¯ drug runner than the slaver or the death cult. ¡°Speakin¡¯ of, how about we show you somethin¡¯ special?¡±
Vivian, in full surgeon¡¯s garb for the moment, worked casually as she spoke towards the monitor across from her, ¡°I¡¯m not saying I told you so, mostly because I didn¡¯t actually tell you not to attack dear Cissy, but you really should¡¯ve seen this coming, Gigi~¡± ¡°Fuck off!¡± Giselle snapped straight back, audibly irritated through the violet diamond she used for her insignia, ¡°I swear to God, if you had any idea that asshole would start full on massacring my¨C!¡± ¡°Gigi, you and I both know what sort of reaction a proud man like Arcisio would have to you breaking his toys~ Boys like him are conditioned and nurtured into holding onto their pride above all else and boiling any distress into rage and violence~ It¡¯s only surprising if you truly thought you would suffer no consequences for your actions~¡± ¡°I expected some kind of warning at least! That prick¡¯s a fucking sadist, I guarantee that, so where the hell¡¯s his bragging!?¡± ¡°It¡¯s probably being saved for later. You¡¯re squirming right now, aren¡¯t you~? So he¡¯ll taunt when he¡¯s satisfied you¡¯ll be at your lowest~¡± ¡°Gh¨CFuck, this isn¡¯t the time for this shit...Altamirano¡¯s still alive, she¡¯s killed Lupul, which by the way, FUCK! And I¡¯m down all those fucking...what did you call them? Ivories?¡± ¡°Hm, not quite, though I do like that name better. It¡¯s fine if you lost a few, especially since I¡¯ve learned about their issues with heat~ I can¡¯t very well shove my ¡®ivories¡¯ into the fires if they can¡¯t handle it, though I¡¯ll have to check how best I can counter this weakness...oh, and my condolences for Mihail. He was decent toy for you, from what I saw~¡± ¡°Hmph. Dumbass couldn¡¯t come back alive, so fuck him. Sides, your replacements oughta serve me well enough.¡± Vivian snorted, giggling, then paused as she noticed the accidental incision she made on her current project¡¯s heart. Well, it was an easy fix, sewn up with an extra hand and a quick application of thread. ¡°If that¡¯s your way of asking if you can fuck them, I can assure you, they are very fuckable~¡± ¡°I¡¯ll bet they are, you fucking freak.¡± Ah, the disgust in that lovely voice~! She just couldn¡¯t repress the shiver that rippled through her skin, it was just so¨CAh, no, just cut the descending aorta, that¡¯s not good... ¡°Mh, well tell me if their equipment needs any adjusting, kay~? I did do a very thorough job, but you never know when erectile dysfunction might hit. It¡¯s shockingly common in males like you wouldn¡¯t believe.¡± ¡°I can believe plenty.¡± Oh that was a bitter tone. How cute~ ¡°Oh, while I have you, you did send that Tusk girl my way, yes? I would¡¯ve thought she would arrive already, and yet, here I am, lacking the presence of our new entrepreneur!¡± ¡°She¡¯s on the way, sure. Just taking a detour on the way.¡± Vivian paused, then looked at the monitor again. It was an ordinary monitor with a webcam; not everything needed to be organic, though she did still enjoy her work with organic transmitters. ¡°Gigi, I¡¯m not about to hurt the poor dear. I won¡¯t even perform any surgeries on her! Well, no unrequested ones, you never know what a girl might want.¡± ¡°I know that. It¡¯s not about you.¡± ¡°Oh? Well I sincerely hope you didn¡¯t go back on your own word¨C¡± ¡°Fuck off, I didn¡¯t. She wanted that contract saying I wouldn¡¯t hurt her, have her killed, all that shit, and I won¡¯t. Hell, I won¡¯t even send her to be killed. But if Rhodes decides to test her and shit goes wrong, well, dumbass should¡¯ve trusted my word instead of demanding a contract.¡± ¡°...She really pricked your pride that badly by looking for safety?¡± ¡°Fuck off! I¡¯m not looking for any holier shit here, your hands aren¡¯t clean and you¡¯re not better than me! And if that cunt can¡¯t handle meeting Rhodes, then she wasn¡¯t gonna survive in this business anyway, my protection or no.¡± ¡°Hm. Speaking of survival, I wouldn¡¯t mind¨C¡± ¡°Fuck you! I¡¯m not abandoning shit! These are my lands, this is my business, and I¡¯m not letting some upjumped country rat think she can take MY FUCKING NUMBER! So fuck off with your help, and don¡¯t fucking forget, the two of us? We¡¯re not shit to each other.¡± ¡°As you¡¯ve said, sure,¡± Vivian replied, unimpressed with the outburst, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll throw away Wealthy then?¡± ¡°...¡± The screen cut out. ¡°Oh, that touched a deeper nerve than I thought...¡± She tilted her head, staring at the blank screen, then sighed. ¡°...You¡¯d better not fuck this up, Gigi. I already have one love I need to drag out of Hell.¡±
¡°They make a nice couple, don¡¯t they?¡± Nero asked, then chuckled darkly, ¡°Course, the Snake and the Spider aren¡¯t just a pair. There¡¯s a third member of their group, one who tends to talk soft and carry a real big stick, if y¡¯know what I mean.¡± A simple logo appears: A gray tombstone on a black background, engraved with its name. ¡°The Queen of Death, The Livin¡¯ Massacre, The Mausoleum...Omari Rhodes. The Shark. No snake hidin¡¯ in her den, no spider lurkin¡¯ on her web, the shark is a movin¡¯ woman with sharp teeth and a nasty bite who runs the third biggest gang of raiders out there. Third, because they have high standards for application. ¡°Tombstone doesn¡¯t deal in human lives, not quite. It at least doesn¡¯t sell people and everyone workin¡¯ for ¡®em is workin¡¯ fully willingly. One or two hundred might be coerced, but even then, they have options, they ain¡¯t full members. The thing about coercion is that you need ties to bind you for it to work. Secrets don¡¯t mean shit if no one cares about ¡®em. But that¡¯s not somethin¡¯ really relevant. I doubt we¡¯re gonna look in on the life of an inspector bein¡¯ threatened to permit certain buildings, there¡¯s not gonna be the story of a man told to look the other way. These things happen, and they happen plenty, but as far as our world¡¯s concerned, it¡¯s the people with the numbers who matter, and Tombstone is run by a woman with a number. ¡°It¡¯s also run by a CEO who ain¡¯t her, to give it more legitimacy, and a board of investors who sit in nice, high offices and sip fancy champagne. It¡¯s all a mask for them though. The board of Paradiso is one of rich men in nice suits tellin¡¯ each other about the good ole days, when their ancestors roamed, raided, and raped, though they don¡¯t use that last word. Negative connotations, y¡¯know? The board of Tombstone, on the other hand, looks like rich men in nice suits, reminiscin¡¯ about the days when you could shoot a boy in the street and no one would look twice. They talk in low tones, without any bluster, without any pride. ¡°To be a leader in Tombstone is to know death. No matter how rich you are, you won¡¯t sit at their board unless you¡¯ve been buried, been drowned, and been burned. You need to know the womb of Mother Death to know what a tomb truly is, and to claim that you are the stone that marks its place. So let¡¯s see what that means. Nothin¡¯ too bad yet, it doesn¡¯t go that far. But it¡¯s a good place to rot.¡±
The rain fell in a light drizzle. Enough to soak if one stood out in it, but not enough to linger if someone hurried. An umbrella and a raincoat was enough to deflect the meager droplets, and the air lacked a promise of a true downpour. Still, one man walking across the muddy field had taken care to deflect it regardless. His blue raincoat, bright enough to be seen in any storm¨Cand if it wasn¡¯t, he could handle that¨Ccovered him properly, and the black umbrella he held blocked any real attempt at getting him wet. Despite that, his glasses¨Cprofessional, slightly curved frames, and with a dark pattern that resembled the rain that fell around him¨Cstill had water dripping down their glass, and his face¨Chis skin was brown and heavily lined and wrinkled with age¨Cwas wet. His rain boots clumped through the mud as he walked until he stopped behind another man, who was squatting, staring at a mound of dirt. The man in the blue raincoat was known as Huzuni. It was not his name. It had never been his name. It wasn¡¯t a title. It was a word. A noun. An emotion that had taken what he was and made him not himself. The man in the red jeans was called Hasira. He accepted his word more easily, more readily. He found it fitting in a hateful way, in the way naming a man ¡°Angry¡± could be. It was a statement of what he was, how he defined himself. A man named Fury was not unheard of. A man named Sorrow was not unknown. They were more common than men named Joy. ¡°You won¡¯t find that here,¡± Huzuni noted in a language that was not English. A set of subtitles shown on the screen, explaining his words, making it easy. ¡°This is a cold place.¡± ¡°Colder than you, sure,¡± Hasira replied, not averting his eyes from the mound he watched, ¡°But I¡¯ll bet more life springs from it.¡± Huzuni acknowledges the point with a noise that could have been agreement. His eyes were brown. His head was shaved. Age creased under his eyes and around his skin, pulled taut to withered muscle and bone. He stood without issue. He would not pretend at frailty in this place. Hasira stared at the mound of earth, his eyes a deep, dark brown. His hair was black and coarse, and he had a thick beard covering an old and wrinkled face. The hair on his head was bound tight, compared by some to candle wicks. His bare chest was broad and fat. Black tattoos spiraled all across his skin, curving in on themselves around his muscles as though his own skin was winding tight and forming into a solid thickness that no blade or bullet could penetrate. He would know. Many had tried. He still stared, waiting. ¡°She¡¯s dead,¡± Huzuni stated, though he could know no such thing. ¡°Many ¡®she¡¯s¡¯ are dead,¡± Hasira replied, ¡°You will have to be more specific.¡± ¡°The one you watch for. I don¡¯t care for her name.¡± ¡°You dislike it, or you didn¡¯t bother to learn it.¡± ¡°It could be both. Stocks are up. We¡¯re facing competition with Koroshi for the Kingdoms. The war for Xintong requires weapons, and the Rose¡¯s insistence on entering the fray means the Soshi Conglomerate no longer cares if that kingdom survives.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Morikawa is an interesting brat. The eternal one oh eight, or so they say.¡± ¡°If the road we walk wants him dead, then he¡¯ll die. Why are you yammering at me?¡± ¡°I thought I¡¯d share some conversation. You don¡¯t share much.¡± ¡°I share what I want. Struggle more. You want to live, so struggle.¡± ¡°Careful now. You can¡¯t put undue pressure on the young. The providence of the aged is to suffer for those who come next.¡± ¡°You are young, so you can live. Life is yours, fight for it! Reach up and grasp it, tear your way out!¡± ¡°Pace yourself. Rest. Don¡¯t destroy yourself in a fruitless struggle.¡± ¡°Do not listen to the voice advocating hesitation when you¡¯re drowning in soil! A chick dies in the egg she does not break!¡± ¡°And a baby dies in the womb it does not leave. The earth is the womb of the dead, young girl, and their birth is the blasphemy of robbed graves. To be born is to be dying, to stay dead is to never know pain. Death in the womb is the kindest fate we could give you here, for this is not a road of quiet passing.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°You already committed violence, you already know its life! If you seek to live, to know of true life, do not give, but take!¡± ¡°A baby is not born alone. It does not force its way into existence. It is given aid. In this, we ask much of you already. We demand you be capable when we acknowledge you are helpless. True independence is a fruitless goal, for the road you walk was paved by another.¡± ¡°Struggle all the same! Leave your mark, or die as nothing!¡± ¡°Or die as nothing. Sink into the womb and never live. We are the stones that mark its place. If you cannot leave that tomb, you cannot enter the world. You slithered with diamonds, now swim with spades. There is much in this life, and you might just reach it.¡± ¡°But you never will if you do not stand!¡± ¡°But bowing is far easier.¡± The men watched as a hand ripped through the dirt and a woman shoved her way out, coughing and choking and vomiting up thick, dark mud. She was drenched and cold and coughing hard, trying to clear the mud from her eyes, feeling it cling to her skin, and when she wiped her sight clean, she saw a woman standing over the grave she had been buried in. She stood tall in the rain, unbothered as it dripped down a ruined face. She smiled; she had no lips. She heard the new one¡¯s shallow breaths; she had no ears. She smelled the decay in the air; she had no nose. And she watched with pitch black eyes, unblinking as she stared at the bare and bedraggled woman staring up at her. ¡°...w-w-why?!¡± Tusk finally managed to demand, trying to...she didn¡¯t know yet. Her hands hurt with the effort of tearing her way up and she¨Cshe wasn¡¯t even all the way out yet, she needed to get out¨C And Rhodes extended her hand to her. A glove covered it, but her arm was bare up to her shoulder. Her skin was blue-gray. Dark and pale. She wore a gray tank top and cargo pants, patterned with a gray and blue camo. Her boots stood atop the mud, not sinking in. Tusk¡¯s hand was in hers before she realized it, and Rhodes pulled her up. Hasira and Huzuni stood back, watching as their queen took the newest of their faith with her. ¡°She won¡¯t be one of us. She¡¯ll wander to the spider, and see what the web may give her,¡± Huzuni muttered, watching the woman with a mammoth¡¯s shadow, ¡°She is attached to comfort and ease. I doubt anything we have done has stirred her to action.¡± ¡°Well damn,¡± Hasira grunted, turning with a frown to the next mound in the row, ¡°I was at the wrong grave.¡± ¡°...What?¡± But he was already walking, squatting down at the next grave in the line and speaking encouragement to the next newborn to come. Or not. The camera pulled back to show a wide view of the muddy field, dotted by well over a hundred mounds. Some bulged from beneath. Some tore open, hands reaching for the sky, desperate laughter spilling into the air as their second birth was achieved. Most were quiet.
¡°Somber shit, huh?¡± Nero had a lazy smirk on his face, looking unimpressed. ¡°Some people worship death. Not always in the ways you¡¯d think, but for the stones, they aim to seize life by nearing death. It takes a lot to become immortal, but not dyin¡¯ is a decent enough way to achieve it. ¡°As for Tusk, she has more to go if she really wants that strength. Course, she didn¡¯t want it. That¡¯s an important part to all this. She walked a path that went in a direction she didn¡¯t expect, and now she needs to walk on glass to find where she¡¯s goin¡¯. Passed from queen to queen, because when you¡¯re low on the pole, everyone else kicks down. ¡°That aside, now you know. Paradiso, the slavers, the sellers of labor to those who want to own. The Grindhouse, the dealers, the sellers of pleasure to those who want an escape. And Tombstone, the weaponers, selling death to those who want to feel big. They¡¯re all lined up, and soon enough, they¡¯ll be fallin¡¯ down. But we¡¯ll see when that happens. And there¡¯s others to go. ¡°Tusk ditched Altamirano early. That might¡¯ve been a big mistake. Maybe she¡¯ll die bad for it. Maybe she won¡¯t. We¡¯ll see how things play out for her, same as everyone that matters. Speaking of, why don¡¯t we see what Nim¡¯s doin¡¯?¡±
Nimia took a slow breath, in and out, as she felt for what fire was inside her. It was easy to find, easy to touch, but hard to grasp, to keep a hold of¡­ ¡°Your mind is more than just your brain. Your brain is physical, tied to the world. It is the home of what you are, what you think, what you feel. It holds your will, but your will may reach beyond it. It is the core of your body, but your body is not all you are. Free yourself from that physicality, let your will stretch outward, and you will find a greatness you always knew, yet were unaware of,¡± Wright intoned, his voice calm and even. He sat cross-legged on the grass, same as her and Greenie. They formed a triangle of meditation, centering themselves to find what was lying within. The field next to a roadside station wasn¡¯t exactly the best location for psychic training, but hey, it did seem to be working pretty well as Milgram and Shelburn bought some snacks for the road. Oh, and Lou was around too, hanging out in the van. Still in eyeshot, because duh. ¡°Isn¡¯t there an implant or something to make this go faster?¡± Greenie griped, apparently disagreeing. Though she might be sour in general because of the consequences of her lost bet, which took the form of her having to wear a crop top and shorts in order to show off the various doodles Nimia had drawn across her belly, back, legs, arms¨Ceverywhere appropriate, really¨Cwith the word LOSER doodled straight across her forehead, several drawings of flowers and butterflies across her visible skin, and the phrase ¡°Property of Nimia Altamirano¡± printed on her lower back. Could be either, really. ¡°Sure there is.¡± ¡°What??¡± Nimia wasn¡¯t opening her eyes, but she could tell Greenie had. ¡°Wait, then why are we doing this?¡± ¡°Because tech like that is restricted to Bureau operatives. Civilians, or outside operators, need to learn the old-fashioned way. Or the new-fashioned, old-fashioned way, since we don¡¯t push you to the edge of death through pain or starvation. Unless you want to join up?¡± ¡°...ffffhhh...hey, Boss-¡± ¡°No.¡± Nimia tried not to smile when she heard Greenie grumble under her breath. It wouldn¡¯t do to be too mean to her minion. ¡°Just try to focus, Greenie. Reach inside yourself and find whatever acid power you probably have.¡± ¡°Why is that my default?? I worked for a mercenary company, and sure, we used corrosive weapons, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m tied to corrosives any more than...whatever elemental stuff goes on here! Speaking of, what¡¯s with the metal and paper for the other two??¡± ¡°Metal is a standard element in Eastern philosophy,¡± Wright replied. After waiting a few seconds for Greenie to start frowning, he continued. ¡°The manifestation of your own internal energy is not necessarily tied to a conventional element. Psionics are not a fully understood science, especially with the overlap it has into other unexplained phenomena.¡± ¡°Like magic?¡± ¡°Like Miss Altamirano¡¯s magic sword, yes.¡± ¡°Does that mean I can¡¯t turn into a psychic fire woman?¡± Nimia asked, not completely joking. ¡°You might still be able to. That type of technique is more advanced though. For now, just focus on spreading your mind and reaching out.¡± Greenie sighed. ¡°Fine, but I expect to be able to astral project by the end of the day.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± Except he wouldn¡¯t, at least at the moment, because Milgram called out from the station¡¯s convenience store. ¡°HEY WRIGHT! WE HAVE ANOTHER PROBLEM!¡± The large man paused, his eyebrow raised, before he pushed himself up and moved towards the store, sparing a glance to his ¡°students¡±. ¡°We might need to postpone this.¡± Nimia was already up and following him. ¡°You got it, sifu. I like being in the know though, you know?¡± His lips twitched in amusement, though they dropped into a deep frown the instant he saw the tv screen in the corner of the store. On it, a woman in a blue suit could be seen, reading from a set of papers as a crawling line of words spelled out, in clear letters, why Milgram considered there to be a problem: NS PRESIDENT ASSASSINATED, BUREAU BETRAYAL SUSPECTED. ¡°...Well crap,¡± Wright muttered, studying the screen as the anchor went into details. ¡°Yup. Yup, yeah, so, that¡¯s problem one. Probably the biggest, but not the only one,¡± Milgram explained, glancing to Shelburn, who was sitting on the counter and eyeing the portly cashier, who¨Cin turn¨Cwas grinning very nervously and very slowly edging towards the backdoor. ¡°Problem two is that, apparently, no one can find the Director and half the Decagon is up in flames,¡± she continued with a scowl. ¡°And the third problem is that.¡± Milgram jerked a thumb back at the screen as the anchorwoman continued. ¡°¨Chave opened bounties for agents Wendell Wright, Garret Milgram, and Noemi Shelburn at eighty million, sixty million, and fifty million respectively, with an additional bounty of five hundred million to be paid for the safe return of their captive, Luigi Scorava¨C¡± Nimia whistled. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s pricey. Hm, I should check my bounty, see if it¡¯s gone up¡­¡± ¡°Probably has,¡± Shelburn muttered, glaring at the screen, ¡°Why the hell is mine the lowest¡­¡± ¡°We do have bigger issues to worry about,¡± Wright pointed out. ¡°Yeah, we need to think of the bigger picture here. We can¡¯t get distracted by the tiny details,¡± Milgram agreed, then added as an aside towards Shelburn, ¡°Third place.¡± ¡°I can and will smack you.¡± ¡°Huh, free service.¡± Nimia cleared her throat, getting the trio to look at her. ¡°So, hey, sounds like you guys are currently outlaws and need a place to hide out. Meanwhile, here I am, a wealthy independent who you already owe a helicopter, which I do still want if we can get it, and who is super open to hiring you guys! And also keeping Lou safe, if you three still want to do that.¡± The trio glanced among each other and Milgram shrugged, scratching at his head. ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯d feel too good about ditching the kid after all this. And I¡¯m pretty attached to these two, so...fuck it?¡± Shelburn huffed in amusement. ¡°God, you really have a weird way of looking at things. Right, here¡¯s my take: all this just came crashing down on us out of nowhere, and if it weren¡¯t for me literally being trained to compartmentalize, I¡¯d be losing it. As is, I¡¯m still angry at being screwed over, and Scorava¡¯s the asshole who did that. So keeping his son away from him and working with someone who will inevitably kill the asshole on her way sounds like a good idea to me.¡± ¡°Hm. Two votes for yes already.¡± Wright sighed, then nodded. ¡°We need to talk this through more thoroughly. If we leap for our first option, even if it may be a good one, we risk causing larger problems in the long run.¡± ¡°I can understand that,¡± Nimia replied. The three agents were professionals, but it was easy to see that Shelly and Wright felt tense; the former kept looking back to the tv, her lips twitching in aggravation as she kept her arms crossed close to her chest, while the latter has his hands at his sides, clenched hard into fists. Even Mills seemed like he was anticipating something; he was relaxed, but she could see a sheen of metal at his fingers. ¡°So I¡¯m not going to try forcing you into anything. I do have a follow-up point though, and that¡¯s that a henchwoman of mine stole my boat. Now, I don¡¯t know for sure where she went, but she¡¯s a raider, and the next ranked on my list is one of the raider queens, so hey, best case, my boat¡¯s at her place. Worst case, we could probably still rob her.¡± ¡°...Would the ¡®raider queen¡¯ in question be Giselle Summerton?¡± Wright asked. ¡°Yup.¡± He nodded firmly, then stuck out his hand. ¡°I look forward to working with you, Miss Altamirano.¡± Nimia smirked and clapped her hand in his, shaking it firmly, ¡°Right back at you, Mister Wright.¡± And unnoticed by either of them, the anchorwoman finished her report, ¡°¨Cwill be expected to take office effective immediately, though there are some fears of further violence directed at government officials for the time being. For now, we¡¯ll just have to wait and see what happens. Back to you, Near.¡±
¡°Thanks, doll,¡± Nero replied, grinning at his own viewers before he clapped his hands together, ¡°The States are a power. A young one, but with a history. It¡¯s in the name, the familiar name that indicates everythin¡¯ it¡¯s all about. One that¡¯s gotten sick quick, but really, that¡¯s the consequence of history. What we are, where we come from, what sins we carry, they seep into what we make, no matter what it is. ¡°Even now, this young land is rotting. Too many tries at the same thing, not enough movin¡¯ away from what they were. A nation is like a species, and it needs to adapt to its environment. Thirteen nations that¡¯re willin¡¯ to call themselves states for the sake of unity. They want more, of course, because who doesn¡¯t? But the world is big, and the world is small, and tryin¡¯ to become a superpower is hard when your coasts are small and your people want quiet. Liberty is important, but so¡¯s community. And the two have a rough time meetin¡¯ in the middle. ¡°Corporations are big things, and they take power through different ways. All through sale, but what they sell varies.¡± A red rose on a white background. It has no stem, but thorny vines bathed in red creep out from under its petals. ¡°Giochi Sanguinosi is an entertainment company. They¡¯re a legitimate conglomerate with a lotta fingers in a lotta pies, but entertainment is their bread and circus. Everyone likes a story to feel good, or feel bad, or even feel angry. People like violence and romance, things to get the blood pumping, and tragic circumstances to make their hearts twist. As long as the ending fits, people will like it. It¡¯s gotta fit what¡¯s there, feel natural. And the Don provides! ¡°And the Don makes stories. Not just in rings where the boxer at the bottom rises to the top or at tracks where the racer at the top suffers a bad crash! He makes stories outta the governor with dark secrets she doesn¡¯t want to be told. He makes stories about a man who says too much and breathes too little. His story is a big one, and we¡¯ll get around to it eventually. ¡°For now, let¡¯s take in a scene from it.¡±
The restaurant was lavish. Round tables covered in red tablecloths took up much of the space. Well-dressed waiters attended to patrons in fine clothes bedecked in jewels. A man entered the restaurant and walked past the maitre¡¯d without a word. The maitre¡¯d did nothing to stop him, because he knew the man in the red suit. He was light-skinned and dark-haired, skirting a line between brown and black. His hair was long and pulled back in a ponytail. He had brown eyes and sharp features, with a natural glare that set those around him ill at ease. A short beard covered his chin and did not extend further up. His suit was completely red, as was his tie, though he wore a black undershirt. The table he approached had two occupants. One, a woman with brown skin and short, orange-blonde hair, who wore a red shirt and black pants with suspenders. She ate her steak casually, only glancing up with a single gold eye. She paused, washed down her meat with wine, and grinned. ¡°Hey Dominic! You come by to see how I¡¯m doin¡¯?¡± the 25th, Ofelia Russo, greeted him cheerfully, not minding the serious expression on his face. ¡°...I wasn¡¯t aware you would be here, so no,¡± came the reply. Dominic spared her a look, noting the black eyepatch crossing over her face. On the right side, where her tattoo was. ¡°I see your jaguar ate your eye.¡± ¡°Pft, ah, yeah, should¡¯ve figured it would happen at some point,¡± she joked, before looking to her employer, ¡°Would you like me to leave-¡± ¡°I did not ask you to, so no,¡± her employer echoed, before he looked to his adoptive son with his two red eyes, ¡°Hello Dominic.¡± ¡°Don Scorava.¡± Arcisio Scorava did not look like an old man. It wouldn¡¯t make sense if he did. He was immortal. But that didn¡¯t mean he looked natural. His hair was white and looked as though it was meant to be cut short, though it looked more like a false grass than a natural lawn. His crimson features looked as though someone had built a hard man¡¯s face out of red steel. Lines carved through portions of his face, segmenting it to give it a full range of motion. His red eyes were cybernetic by this point, solid with irises that bloomed like flowers on a bloodshot backdrop. He wore a pair of round glasses with red lenses, a black, pinstripe suit with a red undershirt, and a black tie with a rose pattern on it. Each of his hands wore two rings, on the middle and at the ring, in platinum and rose-gold. He twirled a fork through the noodles on his plate, brought it to his lips, and began to eat, not looking at his son. He chewed, swallowed, took a sip of wine, and looked at him again. ¡°Are you going to sit, or does my boy need an invitation now?¡± ¡°No.¡± Arcisio shrugged to that and speared a bit of sausage, bringing it to his mouth and savoring the taste. ¡°Mm...What do you want, Dominic? I cannot read your mind.¡± ¡°Altamirano is climbing fast, Don Scorava. She¡¯s killed four of our own and that demands retribution.¡± Arcisio glanced at him, then to Ofelia. ¡°Ofelia, when are you going to kill Altamirano?¡± ¡°I¡¯d go after her now if you give me the order,¡± she replied. ¡°I do not doubt you will. I do doubt you are recovered. Eat. Young women need meat on their bones.¡± Dominic didn¡¯t change expression, though his hands, gloved and clenched into fists at his sides, tensed further. ¡°Sir, we cannot let something like this stand, especially when she¡¯s defending a traitor and aiming at one of our top earners.¡± ¡°Our relationship with Miss Summerton has changed, Dominic. She has become an issue. Altamirano does need to die for killing my own. Miss Summerton sent her dog after my operatives though, and that requires a retribution.¡± ¡°Sir, you¡¯ve already destroyed most of her operations worldwide. Companies who used her business are distancing themselves to avoid your wrath and two thirds of her organization are dead already. You¡¯ve chastised her enough.¡± ¡°Perhaps.¡± He began winding spaghetti around his fork again. ¡°We no longer support slavers in our family. If she wishes to enjoy what I have, she should stop being a slaver. And if she does, I will welcome her with open arms.¡± ¡°But what if Altamirano kills her before¨C¡± ¡°Then she is dead, and the opportunity is lost. That can happen.¡± ¡°...I realize the transgression must be answered. My issue is with allowing Altamirano to live even a moment longer as she approaches us.¡± ¡°I realize. And yet, we do still have time.¡± ¡°Time that is growing shorter by the¨C¡± His hand moved quick, darting forward as¨C Dominic clutched at his broken nose, stemming the flow of blood with a hiss of pain. His head swirled, bright spots in his eyes as he tried to push himself back up, off the floor. ¡°You break my heart, Dominic.¡± Arcisio sighed, looking down at the mangled fork in his hand. The spikes that had attempted to pierce out of it were all bent. Nearby, a set of large, sharp nails were stabbing into the wood of their table. One had pierced through the bread basket. ¡°You come to me like this? Without even a thirteen on your neck? You insult me.¡± He sighed again, then glanced to Jaguar, who was tense, but not yet leaping away from the table. ¡°Ask the waiter for another fork. My son ruined mine.¡± ¡°...ah, yeah, of course, sir.¡± She raised a hand, flagging down one of the staff as Arcisio glanced towards his boy. ¡°Stand up.¡± Dominic stood. He let his hand drop from his nose, ignoring the drying blood. ¡°You chose to place this high. I chose the two hundreds for a reason. High, but not so high that any would want a place there over somewhere higher. An acceptable height, where those low in position would know we are greater. You chose to be the seventeenth. That was your decision. ¡°Do not cower because a threat approaches. You are a Scorava, blood of my blood.¡± For the briefest moment, a burning crimson seemed to envelope Arcisio¡¯s body. ¡°Act like it.¡± And then it was gone, and Dominic swallowed his instinctive terror. ¡°...I understand, father.¡± ¡°Aw, don¡¯t be too hard on yourself!¡± Then a hand clapped to his shoulder and a blond man with red eyes of his own was grinning at Dominic. ¡°If you want to skip ahead so bad, I¡¯m always open for an attempt~¡± ¡°Oh great, it¡¯s Vick,¡± Ofelia muttered as Victor Song, wearing a pure white suit with a bowtie, immediately turned his grin towards her. ¡°Felia~! I see you¡¯re still kicking! Rocking an eyepatch now too, interesting! That oughta help you terrify small children much easier!¡± ¡°Eh, I wouldn¡¯t want to cut in on your hobby. Hey, you gonna want anything¨CAh, wait, right, Don-¡± ¡°Take a seat, Victor,¡± Arcisio ordered, gesturing to a fourth chair now at his table, ¡°Tell me how your work has gone.¡± ¡°Better than Fifi¡¯s, I can tell you that,¡± Victor joked, earning a one-eyed glare from his coworker as he walked right past Dominic and took a seat, opening up the menu to start taking a look, ¡°Oh wow, they have chowder here? Damn, might need that¡­¡± Dominic watched for a moment longer, considering matters as Victor chatted casually about the man he¡¯d murdered earlier that day and continued to poke his success at Ofelia¡¯s failure while she retorted with past fuck-ups of his own. There was a chair open, but he turned and left regardless. He needed to think. If his father needed anything, he would answer that call.
¡°Hey, fun fact from your ol¡¯ pal, Victor¡¯s red eyes have absolutely nothin¡¯ to do with the Scorava family,¡± Nero stated as the screen switched back to him, ¡°Some people just have the same eye color, and the modern era, that I¡¯m livin¡¯ in at least, has a whole lot more natural eye colors out there, so it¡¯s really not that weird. ¡°Y¡¯know what is weird? Hittin¡¯ your kids. Don¡¯t do that folks, it¡¯s no good. Granted, if they¡¯re tryin¡¯ to murder you to lower the chances of their own deaths, that complicates things, so maybe don¡¯t get life lessons from killers. The Scorava Family might run a lotta shit right now, but that don¡¯t mean they¡¯re morally right, and it definitely don¡¯t mean they¡¯ll always be on top. They already got plenty of rivals lookin¡¯ to take what they¡¯ve got. ¡°And the biggest one¡¯s a name you¡¯ve heard before, not least cuz they¡¯re givin¡¯ some, conditional, support to our girl Nimmy! That¡¯s right, we¡¯re talkin¡¯ bout the Soshi Zaibatsu, consistin¡¯ of Bokushi Enterprises and Koroshi Industries and run by the Morikawa Clan, though don¡¯t mention that last part. They like tryin¡¯ to seem legit.¡± The next logo was a very simple one: a violet sun against an orange sky, setting into the blue sea. ¡°Now, I could spoil what they¡¯re up to, or maybe show you some cute gals hanging out in a noodle shop, but...hm, yeah, good point, you¡¯re real right there, we oughta go with the second! So roll the clip, and enjoy.¡±
Two women sat in a noodle shop, on opposite seats in a booth. Both ate from bowls of noodles and pork, chatting about the food, about the city, and about the company they both worked for. One woman had dark brown skin, the other had light skin. Both wore black wigs, styled in short bobs. They dressed like office workers, with white shirts and black skirts. The only thing that could be considered off about them was that one woman had a yellow eye, and the other had green. Which wasn¡¯t particularly unusual, particularly since their eyes were clearly cybernetic, and Crow quite clearly retained one brown eye. Her right eye had survived the fall. Not much more of her had, and that was why she was working for Koroshi Industries, even as a murderous rage boiled under the calm surface she put on. The woman across from her was named Na-rae Gyeon, though her ¡°working¡± name was Kikyo Kamakiri. She¡¯d suggested a similar name for her coworker, something with Karasu, but had been rebuffed, for the moment. That was fine though, probably, it didn¡¯t mean anything bad, necessarily. She looked very natural, sitting and speaking casually in spite of the terror she constantly felt. Only the minute twitches of her pupils signaled her constant watch of their surroundings, the slight motions taking in every potential movement and threat. Her eyes paused on the men entering the restaurant even as she continued to speak casually, without any change in diction or hitch in breath. She moved her hand as she spoke, communicating that there were five men present: 1 target, 4 guards. It was intended as an easy starter job with an individual Koroshi Industries, or more specifically the Morikawa Clan, wanted removed. Crow didn¡¯t care to know the context, but the captions on screen provided a context for the audience regardless. The target was Shogo Ryugami¨Ca punk with slicked back blue hair rocking a blue tracksuit and ranked 464, who was doing things the clan disagreed with, such as harassing waitresses, underpaying contractors, and, worst of all, trying to open a deal with Cross Corp. [Zeshin Morikawa really hates Charles Crosswhite] the captions helpfully explained as the casually dressed men walked to their table, sitting without being seated as Crow stood and walked straight towards them. She smashed the first man¡¯s head straight into the table, hard enough to crack the wood and smash his nose, then shoved him behind her, throwing him out of his chair. She kicked the table across the room as the men scrambled to their feet, the second closest trying to pull a knife and getting his arm snapped in two for his trouble. Her palm smashed into his jaw and he snapped back as she kept a tight grip and slammed her fist into his chest, smashing his sternum as he choked on blood. The melee was short and brutal as Crow vented her burning rage, tanking punches, slashes, and stabs from the men desperate to live. Her foot snapped a throat under it as she shoved her fingers through a man¡¯s eyes; her fist broke teeth as she clutched a tearing t-shirt, punching again and again with her free hand until it broke skull; and her head crushed a man¡¯s nose before she gripped the sides of his head and squeezed until it¨C [This broadcast has been censored for graphic violence.] the captions stated as a rather ineffectual mosaic censor manifested and cheerful music began to play in the place of screams and begging. Instead, the shot lingered on Mantis clapping, a twitching smile on her face as she tried to display some type of appreciation for her partner. Not that she didn¡¯t appreciate her work; it was well done, certainly sent the message well enough. Of course, Mantis hadn¡¯t had much to do, so she¡¯d taken the liberty of taking one unimportant bodyguard, crumpled and bleeding already, and having a brief snack. As much as she enjoyed her meal, blood always made her peckish, and it was very easy to take a broken man and drink deep of his fear and pain, particularly once she showed him what lay beneath the false face she wore. Regardless, the job was done, and Crow was instructed on the proper way to remove a head for a contract collection, helpfully aided by a hacksaw and her new partner, who felt like she should be happy about her fantastic progress. She couldn¡¯t be, not properly, but she felt like she should.
¡°And it¡¯s the thought that counts,¡± Nero said, nodding to his own statement, ¡°Intentions matter a lot. Course, so do outcomes, and methods. You can pave a road with intentions, but you still gotta travel and reach its end. Why you travel, how you travel, where you travel...that all matters, and somethin¡¯ as simple as carin¡¯ can be a journey all its own. ¡°We live a world that pretends it doesn¡¯t care. Thinkin¡¯ it really doesn¡¯t is all a part of the illusion. People care, and they¡¯ll do terrible things because they care. They¡¯ll do great things too though, and it¡¯s bound to be messy when those two impulses collide. Cruel because you care, kind because you care, shit¡¯s complex, and people make bad choices all the time. That¡¯s why the numbers are here. Cuz accountability is important, and no one dies until they pay for their crime. ¡°But hey, I didn¡¯t start shit. I don¡¯t know for sure. But I¡¯ve heard. I¡¯ve been told. And the world doesn¡¯t bow to me or anyone else. ¡°But bowin¡¯ is different from havin¡¯ your legs cut off. A dragon about to die mentioned the Huoxing. Our little dirt ball has a strange brother out there, where the wealthy fled.¡± Two stars in a black void. One blue, one red. A crossed cage covers the former, sealing it in. A great tower pierces from the latter, standing as a spear, rigid and off center. ¡°A man dies on Mars today. He committed a murder in cold blood for cruel pleasure and gained a number on his neck. But he hid it, because that number was a promised punishment. But he couldn¡¯t help himself.¡± The number 999 sits on the cheek of a man in a mask. He wears a well-tailored suit of an extraterrestrial material, and his smile shows through his mask as he wraps his hand around a throat and squeezes. ¡°A man on Mars sits in a prison, and the 11th just walked into his cell. His name is Kojo, and he walks unknown and unbothered. A sword is at his hip, and he cuts with his fingers.¡± 999 has cuffs on his wrists. They bind his hands together, and he jerks back, slamming against the wall of his cell, panic showing in his eyes, through the mask he wears. He is afforded dignity, so he is still covered, though his suit is white now. He tries to speak to the man standing in the doorway, attempts to plead, and his head slides free from his neck. ¡°A man died on Mars to keep peace on the planet of war. A world that exports war to keep its sister down hard. The red world wants the system to itself, and it¡¯s further out. It can take and take as its sister slaves for its wealth. A paradise world, tiny and self-important. It¡¯s lasted long, and it¡¯s had a good run. ¡°But in the end, everyone gets held accountable.¡±
A harsh snort cut through the quiet following the broadcast¡¯s end, and a click of a remote shut it off entirely. A man grunted, and stood from a messy bed, grabbing a can of beer from the nightstand, and drinking. His scarred throat bulged with every gulp, and he let out a slow sigh, crushing the can in steel fingers. He walked through the filthy hotel room, crushing a roach under his foot, until he reached a suitcase. The man crouched, opened it, and assembled the rifle inside. The room was stained. The carpet, the walls, the torn drapes fluttering by the balcony; dust and filth coated it, and the man worked without pause amid the filth. An open pizza box lay on the table, food for whatever insects flittered and skittered through the ruined place. The man stood, and closed the clean, black suitcase with a bare foot. Scars cut over his ankles and up his calves. His skin was full of holes, and he adjusted the rifle with a practiced ease, before stepping to crush an ant crawling for his leg. His eye flicked down at it, the crosshairs in his pupil shifting as he looked, before he snorted again in derision and contempt. The man, fully nude and heavily scarred, walked out onto the balcony. There were holes in his hands and holes in his feet; to say his body was scarred was to pretend there was any part of him that was unmarred. He flicked a cigarette out into metal fingers and put it to his mouth as he sat on the rusted chair out there. In some ways, it matched him. His rust, his marring, his ruin. The cigarette lit in the heat, and he leaned back on his chair, putting one foot up on the railing and pushing back, balancing on the back legs as he brought the rifle to his eye, staring through the scope at a dusty, yellowed sky, where the sun hung far too close. The man with the 19 on his chest let out a low, slow breath, and fired up into the vast sky up above. One shot. One death. That was the guarantee he was promised. The rest was up to luck. ¡°Accountability...what bullshit.¡± 23 - Culebra
Match 24 #24 Nimia ¡°The Serpent¡± Altamirano (+ Crew) Vs. #23 Giselle ¡°Diamondback¡± Summerton (+ Extras)
Inventory Darling - A mystical saber imbued with the powers of fire and ice; Fire LV 2, Ice LV 1 Death & Debt - Two .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums, formerly named Sonya & Cleon; imbued with fiery bullets. Lucky - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting Nimia¡¯s phone - For contacting people.
Paradise burned under a rainy sky. The downpour landed hard and heavy, drenching the tropical land under a great storm, running rivers of red to mix into the sea. ¡°Huh. Four towers. That¡¯s convenient,¡± Nimia noted as she swiped a torn off shirt across the blade of her darling. The rain made it a little trickier to deal with the ivories, regenerating assholes that they were, but carving them into tiny bits did seem to work just fine. Mills nodded in agreement, staring up at the towers through the visor of his new helmet. ¡°Yeah, really convenient...you don¡¯t think¨C¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t set up these towers right before we got here, they¡¯ve definitely been up for a while,¡± Shelly replied, annoyance audible in her voice, ¡°...these have to be dry inside, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯d assume so,¡± Wright replied, dropping the brutalized guard he held in one hand, ¡°I doubt these people are the type to let the rain in.¡± ¡°Is that some kind of problem for you?¡± Nimia asked, ¡°You¡¯re not going to melt if you get in too much water, right?¡± ¡°No, not at all. Water just makes my papers too wet, I can¡¯t maintain the form properly. It¡¯s less like it kills me, more like it makes me stick together.¡± ¡°Huh. Weird. So if you transformed out here, in the rain-¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Wright interrupted, ¡°I think you have a slaver to kill.¡± ¡°Not quite. We¡¯ve got a lot of slavers to kill.¡± No one disagreed. All four of them¨CNimia and the former agents¨Cwore the same type of cybernetic armor, purchased at Nimia¡¯s expense for the sake of protecting her new allies. While Nimia herself still had her green set, Wright had a yellow suit, Mills had gray, and Shelly wore white; better to differentiate them and fit the vague idea of style in Nimia¡¯s head. ¡°Right, I get tallest tower,¡± Nimia stated, already walking towards her intended destination, ¡°The rest of you can decide which ones you want, though don¡¯t complain to me if you get a dud.¡± The trio looked amongst each other, then, as one, promptly went for rock-paper-scissors to decide their next move. And soon enough, each member of Nimia¡¯s team had a skyscraper they were walking inside, ready to face whatever may come. Which, for Nimia, was an immediate hail of gunfire from mounted turrets and more white-masked mooks with assault rifles and even rocket launchers. Not that they managed to hit her with any of those before she was right in their midst, splitting arms at the elbows and heads from their necks. Out came Sonya and Cleon¨Cshe still preferred calling them that over the fancy names on the sides¨Cand down went the turrets, burning and collapsing as the grinning killer walked for the elevator, just in time for the doors to blow to pieces. ¡°...huh.¡± She flicked the blood from her blade and glanced to the only other route up. ¡°...guess I¡¯m taking the stairs.¡± And so she did. To an extent. Running up multiple flights of stairs was a pain in the ass even with robot legs, but Nimia was pretty damn sure she hadn¡¯t actually reached the top of the skyscraper when she reached the top of the staircase. Though the view definitely could¡¯ve fooled her as she stepped through the door into a bright, sunny boardroom. Light streamed in through the windows, and a look outside showed an unmarred Paradise, gorgeous under the summer sun, even though Nimia could still see the rainwater dripping off her armor. ¡°Huh. Either I stepped into an alternate timeline, or you guys really want your view of the world to stay the same,¡± Nimia said as she turned to look at the eight men filling nine chairs all around a long table, ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯m pretty sure the big chair is meant for the big boss. So unless you¡¯re the asshole I¡¯m here to kill, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s your seat, pal.¡± The man sitting in the big, leather chair at the head of the table regarded her with cold eyes. Not that she could see them all that well, on account of the flat, white mask the man wore. Same as every other man at the table; they all wore white masks and blue, pinstripe suits, though each man had a different letter printed on his forehead. Mr. A spoke up as he leaned back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, ¡°Madam Summerton will forgive me. I am her honored subordinate and supporter, after all.¡± ¡°See, I kinda doubt that. We¡¯re talking about the same woman who decided to send her top guy to kill the top gals of an even higher ranked guy out of, what, a petty slight?¡± ¡°It was more than a mere slight,¡± Mr. B argued, ¡°Thoughtless little girls should know to keep their mouths shut.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, sure, I¡¯ll listen to the creep in a mask talking about little girls, that¡¯s totally a great idea on my part. So are you her fanclub or something?¡± ¡°We are representatives,¡± Mr. C said, ¡°Associates who speak for the shareholders of this great company.¡± ¡°We are the board,¡± Mr. D continued, ¡°We handle the important matters our superior chooses to delegate to us.¡± ¡°Fantastic, you¡¯re complicit,¡± Nimia replied. ¡°Also, so if you¡¯re the board, she¡¯s the CEO, right? Doesn¡¯t that make you guys technically her bosses or something? Shouldn¡¯t you fire her for fucking up your big slaving operation?¡± ¡°You misunderstand our relationship,¡± Mr. E said. ¡°Madam Summerton is our superior. We could no more remove her than we could the sun in the sky.¡± ¡°And if we tried, she would beat us to death on the spot,¡± Mr. F continued. ¡°Huh. Nice to know. I¡¯m sure the perks you get for being slaveholders make up for the threats, yeah?¡± Nimia chuckled, loosening her shoulders as she looked over the faceless men, already positive that these eight weren¡¯t the real stars of the show, even in this opening act, ¡°Well, before we get going here, do you ¡®gentlemen¡¯ happen to know where a boat called the Augrin might be parked? It belongs to me, and I¡¯d like it back.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just beyond these towers, parked in the harbor,¡± Mr. G explained, ¡°You can¡¯t miss it.¡± Nimia nodded, smiling at the building reek of ozone. Not the masked men could see through her helmet. ¡°That¡¯s very helpful. Thanks, you pieces of shit.¡± Mr. H smiled. Not that the helmeted woman could see through his mask. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. It¡¯s no trouble answering a dead woman¡¯s questions.¡± Nimia leapt just as the men started to rise, all of them drawing various guns while she sprinted across the long table, pulling her own Sonya & Cleon and raising them to fire when she had to jump back as a yellow bird-man slammed straight down onto the table in front of her and immediately went in to try to beat her down. He had some good moves too, real fast strikes that sent his fists crackling with electricity as she bobbed and weaved then bent back low as the board members fired. She twisted and slammed her foot into Birdy¡¯s chest, sending him flying back as she rolled and started firing, blowing out Mr. H and Mr. G¡¯s brains in a spray of charred gore before bringing her guns up and firing at Birdy, who jerked backward from the impacts of the shots on the bright yellow forceshield going over his body. She spared a quick look over him as she kept up with firing, taking in his appearance as quick as she could: basically, Birdy was a lean man, his muscles showing tight and taut through a golden bodysuit he wore, lined with only a few pieces of ballistics armor at his chest, shoulders, elbows and knees. Good for protection and all that. A golden eagle mask¨Cmade of some type of gilded steel and engraved with lightning bolts¨Ccovered his head completely. On his right pec, he had a name written¨C¡°ZEUS¡±¨Cbut Birdy sounded better in her head so she was just going with that. Seemed fitting, especially since his arms and legs abruptly burst with golden feathers¨Cnot literally exploded in the gory sense, but in the sense that they were covered in feathers like some sort of arm/leg-guards¨Cand then he shot straight forward and she just barely managed to twist around him and his thrusting palm that boomed with thunder¨Cfucker was fast, she¡¯d give him that¨Cright in time for the remaining board members to try shooting her again, which was awful rude of them. So she shot two more in the head¨CE and F¨Cand kept on firing as she sprinted across the table and dropkicked Mr. A straight in the face. The crunch of ceramic beneath her feet was damn satisfying, though only a brief electric charge in the air gave her enough warning to springboard off of him and flip over a bolt that blasted his head into paste while she fired¨Cwhile still upside down for style¨Cand popped another two domes. Which, funny enough, actually left one over, which happened to be Mr. B with a shotgun, trying to aim for her own head as she rolled back into a crouch. Not that he managed to use it with the sudden rush of electricity that went straight through the whole room, cooking the poor bastard on the spot and sending sudden warning signs flashing in the visor of Nimia¡¯s helmet. Not enough to block her vision, but definitely enough to get across that she was in an area with a lethal amount of voltage in the air and even her insulated suit was starting to have issues with it¨C Then Birdy moved in close and slammed a palm against her chest, sending a surge of electricity through it again as she rolled with the blow, landing back on her feet and hopping in place a few times to shake out the rush going through her. Not the electricity, that hadn¡¯t managed to hit her yet, but she was starting to get into this, which was why she dismissed her guns¨Cgood thing the shock hadn¡¯t busted them up at all¨Cand settled back into a stance. Beneath her flashing helmet, she had an utterly savage grin. ¡°Careful, bird-boy. Shock a girl¡¯s heart too much, and she might want to take you home with her.¡± Birdy tilted his head, staring, then blurred into motion, twisting into a kick that she blocked with a forearm and he went down hard as she smashed her free fist straight into his face, before jumping back as the warning signs flashed again and he twisted up to his feet, his legs a blur as he spun. ¡°Cheeky~. Though I guess electrifying would be a better word?¡± She smirked and he moved again, the air thrumming with electric power as he rushed in close, moving faster and faster with a whole lot of flourishes and twirls, spinning for kicks and backhands and even some decent elbows while flooding the room with so much electricity that Nimia¡¯s suit was actually starting to smoke. Same went for the twitching bodies too, which were outright cooking by now, and since Nimia really didn¡¯t feel like roasting alive, she caught his next kick under her arm, snapped it at the knee, and threw him straight across the table. He rolled too, though he didn¡¯t get to his feet quite as well. Probably because his knee was bent the wrong way¨CShe paused, staring as he snapped it back into place, standing with only the slightest twitch and no sign of pain. ¡°Hm. Alright, you¡¯re good, I¡¯ll give you that. And I¡¯m a little curious if you¡¯re actually working for the slavers here willingly.¡± She honestly didn¡¯t expect an immediate, affirmative nod. ¡°...Really? That...why though?¡± He shrugged, then pointed at one of the smoking corpses. ¡°...Same reasons? Money, power, getting a nice pat on the head from an immortal murderer?¡± Another nod. ¡°And this is all fine for you? You¡¯re doing this completely willingly?¡± His nod was almost cheerful. ¡°...See, I was going to ask if you wanted a change of work, but now I think I¡¯ll just kill you too.¡± He shook his head, then wagged a finger as though chiding her. Then he blurred straight into motion again, the electricity crackling off his body going a bright blue as the feathers on his arms and legs spiraled and the fingers of his hands sharpened like talons, tearing a good chunk of her suit off as he passed. The next pass smashed through more steel and circuitry and he kept on going, sparking all across the boardroom, bouncing off the walls and windows without breaking a thing but tearing off more and more metal with every pass, shredding the suit Nimia wore down further and further¨C Then in one swift motion, she lifted her foot and slammed it straight down on his head, smashing him straight through the table, the floor below, and several floors below that, crashing down further and further until there was a distant crash. Nimia, meanwhile, hopped off the wreckage as golden feathers rained down around her. She let out a huff and dismissed her fully broken suit entirely, leaving her in the regular clothes she wore under it. For the moment, that meant she had on a tank top, sports bra, cargo pants, gloves, and boots. Which did show off how the scales on her arm had spread past her elbow, still steadily progressing upward. ¡°Right, don¡¯t play around just because they look neat,¡± she muttered to herself, heading to the opposite door and...finding another set of stairs on the other side. Because right, of course. At least the next important floor she wound up on was nicer looking. Well, to a degree. The pool was nice at least, taking up most of the room and shimmering with blue water under the bright lights up above. There was a diving board, a bunch of pool chairs, plenty of places to relax and unwind, which seemed to be what the next jackass in her way on the way up was up to. ¡°Y¡¯know, you could afford to actually get ready for me,¡± Nimia complained to the man across the pool, letting her voice carry as she eyed him, ¡°I feel like I¡¯m breaking kayfabe here, blue boy.¡± The man across the pool might¡¯ve glanced at her. It was hard to tell through the tight blindfold wrapped tight around his eyes. The rest of his head was bare and bald, and she could see the surgical scars that bordered patches of mottled blue skin. She wondered what the hell was the point of the stitches at his cheeks as he took a deep sip through a curly straw in a fruity drink, then decided she had better things to focus on. The same could be said for him too, as he kept his free hand on the ass of a woman laying on his chest. Blue boy had an entourage of bikini-clad ladies lounging around the pool and bringing him drinks, all identical aside from two or three who looked exotic in the sense of ¡°blatantly not natural humans¡±. Even then, from what she could see of their general face and body structures, they seemed to be altered forms of the base gals, just with the additions of brighter colors, altered hair, and stripes. All shown off with the aid of outfits made of triangles and strings, more like leaves over their privates than anything covering, while Blue wore the same type of suit as Birdy, yet somehow even tighter and showing off even more. His was a bluish color instead though¨Cteal, probably?¨Cand while she couldn¡¯t see the name on his chest yet, she was pretty sure it was there. And lo and behold, she was right, and she got to see it easily once Blue shoved the woman in his lap off and stood while she shook off the fall and stood before bowing in apology to the prick. He didn¡¯t pay her any mind as he finished his drink and threw it at one of the waitresses, only to pause as a bullet shot it out of the air. ¡°Clear out.¡± Blue stared at Nimia, same as all the girls. His covered eyes were on hers. Their eyes were on the smoking revolver in her hand.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°The stairs are still open. Clear out, now. Ask for Shelly, Mills, or Wright once you get out. Take any raincoats around, it¡¯s pouring outside.¡± One woman almost moved. She shifted forward, then her eyes flicked to Blue when another bullet went into the ceiling, drawing all eyes back to Nimia. ¡°Clear out.¡± And the room cleared. The whole time, the blue man didn¡¯t move, still staring. The name on his chest read ¡°POSEIDON¡±, and Nimia didn¡¯t give a shit. If he¡¯d tried to move, if he tried to hurt any of the slaves as they left, she wouldn¡¯t have played around. No chances, no practice, no fight, just a man shot to death at the poolside. He shook his head, chiding her for missing her opportunity, for throwing away a shot in favor of a fight, and, most of all, for showing any compassion in her line of work. She was a fool, and he would show her that as he flicked a hand and donned his helm. ¡°...Is that a fucking horse??¡± It was. Horseman had formed a metal mask over his head, much like Birdy¡¯s, but while Birdy¡¯s was a golden bird, Horseman¡¯s was a bluish horse head engraved with waves, with the muzzle lowered down over his chin. He didn¡¯t answer her question though, instead stalking onto the water of the pool, standing atop it without the slightest hint of plunging in. ¡°Change back. That¡¯s the worst thing I¡¯ve seen today.¡± He said nothing in reply, merely raising his hands out in front of him, as though drawing the strings of a puppet upwards as the water level rose and spread outside the pool, rising up to Nimia¡¯s knees in seconds as he sunk beneath the water. ¡°...Well great, now my boots are soaked.¡± It was quiet. The simple noise of settled water, the dim drone of lights overhead; these were the only sounds Nimia could hear in the flooded room, so the sudden eruption of water behind her had her moving and firing as a harpoon shot straight past her head, a boom of force echoing before the room settled into quiet again. Her bullet left a dent in the wall, but it didn¡¯t break through. The next splash saw her turn and dodge again, moving and firing as Horseman moved quick through the water, leaping and descending faster than she could hit, and while bullet dodging wasn¡¯t unexpected, it was still annoying. Or maybe she did hit him, and he just had a way around it¡­ Either way, she dismissed Lucky for her Darling, letting its burning tip rest just above the water. The next time he leapt, she moved, ducking under a harpoon and swinging, just missing as he went down before she turned as he charged, thrusting with his spear as she cut through its shaft, nearly catching his face as he bent back and fell into the water again. The next splash came further away and she let it fly past, eyes scanning for his next position as she walked slowly through the water. A chair suddenly flew at her and she had to wonder if he ran out of harpoons as she ducked it, looking to the other pool chairs before spinning to cut through a second, though she still had to duck to avoid the two pieces, and nope, he definitely didn¡¯t run out of harpoons judging by the one that nearly speared through her side, just narrowly missing and cutting a thin line through her skin as she moved¨C Then her foot missed the floor and she remembered the damned pool in the center of the room as she plunged beneath the surface, the sting of chlorine in her eyes making them close on reflex when she felt a pair of hands grab her throat, eager to squeeze the life from her beneath the deep blue waters. And then Horseman had just enough time to realize he¡¯d made a drastic mistake in getting this close to Nimia Altamirano when her hands clamped down hard enough to snap his forearms, her eyes opening in a fierce glare before she gripped his head in a hand that looked like a dragon¡¯s claw and crushed. The third floor on Nimia¡¯s trip was a lot less wet than the previous one. Less bloody too, though that last part wasn¡¯t...well, it was her fault, but she wasn¡¯t the idiot that decided to fight in a pool. And hey, she got out before any blood soaked into her clothes, so that was a plus. She still decided to leave her boots behind though. She honestly didn¡¯t need them to begin with, what with the robot legs and, as a result of that, robot feet, but people could be weird about that kind of thing, so whatever. Point was, she probably wasn¡¯t dressed nearly fancily enough for the lounge she walked into. Though the funny thing was, even barefoot and soaking wet, she was probably the most fully dressed person in the room. The attendants/waiters/slaves were all dressed the same, so in barely anything. Leather masks to cover their faces, thongs to cover their crotches, and bowties and cufflinks to act as collars and manacles. They worked all around the room, cleaning tables and the bar, sweeping the floor, and probably bending over more than was actually necessary for those tasks. A gilded statue in the center caught her eye, one of a nude woman wrapped in a snake, her hand gracefully outstretched in a sign of submissive desire to the apple in the serpent¡¯s teeth. Lilting music drew her eyes over to the piano and the broad back of one more man in a bodysuit. His suit was a dark purple, leaning towards black, but still with the same covers and armor that the others had. He was big, but he played the piano with ease, his fingers drifting across the keys as his melody echoed through the room. A sharp clap drew eyes over to Nimia, aside from the big man. He kept playing. ¡°Clear out.¡± The slaves stared, not moving, when the big man ended his piece, stood, and turned to face her. He was broader and fatter than the previous two, though he looked unmistakably solid. His metal mask was of a dog¡¯s head, engraved with violet flames. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers, drawing eyes to him, then flicked it in a shooing motion. The slaves left without any further hesitation, heading out as Nimia met the eyes of Hades, as marked by the name on his chest. They both kept their eyes on each other as they moved towards the center of the room, stopping a good distance apart, under the eyes of the gaudy statue. Hades stared down at her, a good half-foot taller, then crouched, his hands on his knees as he lifted one leg and planted it down on the floor, shaking the room as lightning bolts flashed up his left arm and the growling, metal head of a golden hound formed beside his own. He repeated the motion with his right leg as waves flashed up his right arm, a matching, teal hound head forming on his right side. Nimia¡¯s lips quirked in a smirk before she dismissed her Darling and copied his motions. His stomps shook the room; hers cracked the floor. The two eyed one another, waiting for an unspoken signal. A voice crackled over the speakers¨C¡°JUST KILL THE DAMN BITCH ALREADY!¡±¨Cand Nimia¡¯s grin went wide and savage as she confirmed Summerton was ¡°enjoying¡± the show. Either way, the match started in a burst of motion from both sides as they fully abandoned their game in favor of solid punches that smashed against each other¡¯s cheeks in a spray of water and breaking metal. Then the blows came faster and harder and Nimia couldn¡¯t help but laugh at herself for trying to get in a fistfight with an electrokinetic while soaking wet. And yet, Hades didn¡¯t take advantage of that; the punches he threw were burning hot, searing with a violet flame that sent steam rising. She almost wanted to joke that he was drying her off, but that would mean talking and she was pretty sure she¡¯d bite her tongue off if she opened her mouth under this onslaught. The first electrified punch only came when she was nearly dry, and it was one she actively dodged instead of taking, moving in and delivering a heavy blow to the solid hound, the impact actually making her wince and grin all the wider for it, particularly when he lashed out with a heavy kick that sent her skidding into a table. She flipped onto it, then jumped as he smashed it with an overhead swing, getting behind him and punching into his lower back before ducking another swing and punching again into that solid body. She continued the motions, the movements, punching again and again into a solid wall with the full intent to smash it down when he burst into flames, sending her flinching on reflex and letting his fist smash straight into her face, sending her crashing and skidding across the room, through lounge chairs and couches and the great statue itself until she righted herself, her teeth bared in a massive smile and her face entirely unmarred by the flames as she brushed gold dust from her shoulder. As she stood, he was already on her, fist crackling with lightning as she punched straight into it. Blood burst from her knuckles, warm and hot, but he stumbled back first as she slipped straight in and crashed her fist under his chin, tearing metal from his mask before a heavy palm sent her skidding back again. His face was an extended muzzle beneath the mask. Calling it canine wasn¡¯t wrong, per se, but it seemed inaccurate to how hellish it looked. The torn skin, the monstrously sharp teeth, and the utterly vicious smile he had all solidified that she was dealing with a true beast. And yet, as the blood dripped from her knuckles, warm and hot and burning, she found she almost liked this one. ¡°If only. You picked a bad choice of employers.¡± He shrugged, chuckling in a rough, mangled voice and spreading his hands, as though asking what else he was supposed to do. ¡°Anything. Were you made for this?¡± No. ¡°Were you changed against your will?¡± No. ¡°So you chose to serve a slaver?¡± Yes. ¡°Then that¡¯s all there is.¡± He nodded, all three heads moving in unison, then rushed forward in a whirl of fire, water, and raging lightning. And she met him with fire, her bloodstained hands enveloped as she crashed her fists against his own. And then she started moving in, still hitting, still delivering blow after blow, and instead of fists, she struck his chest. She wanted to break down the wall called Hades, she wanted to bring him to his knees, and as she struck harder and harder she saw him begin to buckle. Blows to the body shook him further and further and blows to his heads smashed them against each other until the yellow one tried to snap down on her hand and she grabbed it instead, hopping and slamming her feet against his chest as she dug her hands under the head and tore it clean off in a spray of golden ichor. He stumbled, genuine shock in his eyes as she came in, grabbed the blue one, and flipped over his back, wrenching it straight off too in a burst of silver. His lightning, his water, both vanished in an instant, and she pressed against his back, reaching and grasping around his belly before she lifted him straight up and crashing straight back in a solid suplex that slammed him straight into the floor. Still, credit to Hades, he did try to shake it off, quite literally shaking his head to clear the pounding in his ears as he looked up just in time to catch a foot straight in the face as Nimia punted the massive man straight off the floor and through the nearest window, the engines of her legs scorching the floor as she followed all the way through. He smashed straight through it, crashing into the open sky in a boom of thunder as the rain outside fell heavy and hard, now showing through the sunny facade the snake¡¯s tower had enforced. Nimia watched the rain, then shook out her fist, wincing slightly at the sting of torn knuckles. ¡°...Well, if this was meant to wear me down...good attempt, honestly. Not good enough though.¡± She had one more set of stairs to climb up, and as she did, the screens along the staircase flicked on. ¡°Congratulations! You¡¯ve won! Well, not quite, but you¡¯re almost there!¡± came the peppy voice of Bianca, the ivory counterpart to Nero, who beamed on all the tv screens, ¡°You¡¯ve won the right to face the queen! And isn¡¯t that way more than most people ever get? Winning a right sure is a tricky thing to do, especially since so many people just won¡¯t let you go for it, but hey, once you¡¯ve got it, you really have only one more move to make! ¡°Kill whoever wants to tear you down. Both of you know that, and both of you accept that. Well, Nimmy accepts it. Gigi, doll, you¡¯ve never been good at accepting things, which is pretty hilarious considering you accepted the lowest position of your bunch. Ah, what people will do for their imagined safety. It¡¯s almost comical, you know? Actually, no, it¡¯s super comical, so go ahead and laugh! It¡¯s entertainment, after all! ¡°And oh boy do we have a show for you tonight! Sure, Nero might not be hosting, but I can make it up just fine, right? Right! And here we go, the long-awaited showdown between the Rising Star and the Slaver Queen! Snake versus Snake, a little slithery serpent who oughta stick to the grass up against a big predatory Diamondback! Are diamondbacks big and predatory? Not actually sure on that one, but if the metaphor works, good for me! ¡°Now be good girls and kill each other nice, kay~?¡± The instant Nimia stepped through the door, she was moving, ducking gunshots from the woman in a fancy dress behind a big desk. She had the same style magnum revolver as Lucky¨Cthough the bullets themselves were making some pretty nasty explosions wherever they landed¨Cso Nimia brought out her own in turn, earning a snarl from Giselle as she kept on firing, unmoving and unflinching as Nimia fired back. The reason why became apparent soon enough as a shield crackled to life around her, sending the bullets plinking off no matter where they hit her from, while still letting Giselle keep up her gun fire long past the point that she should¡¯ve run out of bullets. Made sense her revolver would have extra properties too, but it was still a little annoying. The cylinder wasn¡¯t even moving, so there was definitely something fancy¨C Giselle flicked up her free hand¨Cwhich had a remote in it so it wasn¡¯t all that free¨Cand clicked some buttons, which led to Nimia quickly realizing that she shouldn¡¯t have wasted her lucky bullets on dominance displays and shooting a shielded lady because those were turrets. Laser turrets too, not just the regular bullet kind. Sure, she still had Sonya & Cleon, so shooting back at them wasn¡¯t too bad, especially since the fiery bullets could sear straight through metal, but Giselle was still trying to blow her up and then came out the laser grids which she seriously wasn¡¯t expecting. Pillars popping up from the floor and spinning around with big, sharp beams of burning light weren¡¯t exactly what she expected in this big fancy office, but then again Giselle clearly wanted her dead so springing for many defenses was just smart. Then she noticed Giselle flick the chamber of her revolver twice, and the next shots that came were a lot less explody and a lot more icy, actually almost catching her leg as she leaped up on top of one of the laser pillars. Still wasn¡¯t a great idea though, considering even more turrets were popping up, but Nimia dismissed her guns and clapped her hands together, grinning confidently nonetheless. ¡°Nice set-up! But you forgot one thing!¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up and die you half-breed fuck!¡± Giselle snarled back, apparently unwilling to play along as she kept shooting at Nimia, now with acidy bullets that were honestly far more appropriate than the murderous slaver could¡¯ve realized. ¡°Aw, that¡¯s hurtful. Anyways, it¡¯s the fact that I was owed a helicopter,¡± Nimia explained as she jumped from pillar to pillar, keeping her balance easy as Giselle¡¯s defences started destroying Giselle¡¯s defences. And while Nimia herself brought her phone out of her inventory and sent a signal she¡¯d been hoping she wouldn¡¯t actually need. Mostly because she preferred to do things solo, but hey, needs must. ¡°Also that I had three allies going around and smashing up your shit, but the attack helicopter part is the most immediately relevant.¡± ¡°Wha-¡± The explosions of several missiles slamming straight into her skyscraper cut her off, sending showers of glass and burning metal into the room as the entire upper floor of her tower was absolutely annihilated by a certain Greenie kept on the sidelines for support. Though Nimia did pause for a second as a sudden concern that the other people she actually wanted to get out of this alive hadn¡¯t managed to get out of the skyscraper in time, so she put her phone to her ear as things crumbled around her, waiting atop one pillar in the storm of debris. ¡°Hello, this is Luigi¡¯s Flying Pizzeria, bringing deliveries to your doorstep,¡± Greenie¡¯s voice came through the phone, albeit with a slight interference from the literal building falling down, ¡°How can I help you?¡± ¡°Hey Greenie, do you see a bunch of people outside the skyscraper you just shot up?¡± ¡°Eh? Uh...hey Lou, do you see-Put on your headset, we¡¯re in a damn helicopter, it¡¯s loud as fuck!¡± There was some audible motion. ¡°Good, now do you see a bunch of nobodies running around down at the bottom? Yeah, okay, Lou says he seems people over by the other buildings? Bunch of streakers or something, taking cover away from this shitshow. Want me to deal with them?¡± ¡°Nah, they¡¯re not a problem to any of us. Civilians, if you know what that word means.¡± ¡°Hey, I know! I¡¯ll have you know that I haven¡¯t committed anything that might even be remotely considered a war crime against any civilian!¡± ¡°...Your reassurance doesn¡¯t reassure me, and neither does your wording¨C¡± Nimia leaned to the side, moving her phone so it didn¡¯t get caught by the bullet that went shooting past her head, then brought it back close. ¡°I¡¯ll call you back, gotta finish my fight.¡± ¡°You got it. Have fun, boss!¡± Nimia nodded, then gave a wave to the helicopter drifting away from the building and hopped down from the sparking pedestal she¡¯d waited on, smirking towards the slaver glaring with a pure hatred back at her. ¡°Sup.¡± ¡°You fucking¨CYou degenerate fucking FREAK!¡± Giselle snarled back, her hair soaked and clinging over her face as the rain poured down, ¡°You insane bitch! Do you think¨CWhat the fuck were you thinking?!¡± ¡°I was thinking a fight on a roof in the rain would be rad, honestly,¡± Nimia explained, looking around the skyscraper¡¯s new roof. Every trap and trick was cleared away, the walls torn down and the rain falling freely over both of them on a flat battlefield. Well, mostly flat. There were still sparking pillars standing, acting as a sort of break up to the surroundings, though they would be pretty shit for any kind of cover. ¡°It¡¯s sort of a classic, right? Course, I think dudes usually do this type of thing shirtless, so we¡¯re kind of messing with the formula there? But hey, I prefer keeping my girls contained while cutting down people who think they¡¯re better than me, and you can¡¯t exactly do that without losing a whole lot more clothing there, so I think we can go for this set-up, right?¡± ¡°...I¡¯m going to skin you. I¡¯m going to rip the fucking skin off your shitty body and make FUCKING BOOTS FROM YOUR SCALES! YOU¡¯RE DEAD, YOU FUCKING TOAD!¡± ¡°Damn, you¡¯re a mean one.¡± Nimia flicked her hand out, bringing back her Darling, and grinned, the steel gleaming along with her teeth as thunder boomed in the distance. ¡°But that¡¯s fine. I¡¯m a fan of mean ladies. I just can¡¯t stand inhuman shits like you.¡± She was in close to Giselle as the next shot went straight past her temple, cutting out and nearly taking off her hand as the slaver twisted around a pillar, firing again and moving with a speed that almost impressed Nimia. Almost. She was more annoyed because Giselle really was using the pillars for cover, moving between them and firing each chance she got with more exotic bullets, now electric and making Nimia¡¯s hair stand on end even as they whizzed past, the shock drawing towards her steel. So she started cutting through the pillars, splitting them in half as Giselle flinched back, snarling and shooting, and it was becoming very clear that for all her grand towers, expensive defences, and handy connections, Summerton had grown lazy in her den, and her fangs were dull. While Nimia¡¯s were very, very sharp. In a flash of lightning, Giselle vanished, disappearing as Nimia chased her. And in a flash of steel, Nimia stabbed straight through the pillar the slaver hid behind and pierced through her chest in a spray of blood and a scream of pain. She still moved though, shoving away from the blade and turning, aiming and losing her hand in another swing of steel, her gun flipping up into the air and landing in an outstretched hand as Giselle was shot straight through the chest, sending her skidding back, hacking up more blood and glaring furiously at Nimia. ¡°D-D-D-Don¡¯t-D-Don¡¯t y-y-you f-f-fucking d-dare...l-l-look a-at m-me like that...y-y-you...Y-YOU THINK YOU¡¯RE BETTER THAN ME?!¡± ¡°Yeah. Because I¡¯m not a slaver.¡± And Nimia shot her straight through the head.
24 -> 23
And that was that. The skies didn¡¯t clear. There was no shining sun to herald the end of horrors, no sunrise to call forth a new dawn. The rain still fell, heavy and hard and, in a way, cleaning. The shot echoed, because of course it did. Even in the rain, the sound of a gunshot is loud, and people take notice. Paradiso was finished. The Queen was dead, the slaves were freed, and the heroic agents gathered up all the evidence, contacts, and monetary information needed to rip apart the structure of the evil organization. So and so, the day was saved, and things were completely and utterly fine. For today, at least. Giselle¡¯s body didn¡¯t fall from the tower. It laid flat on the floor, staring sightlessly at the sky up above as her blood was washed clean from her ruined floors. Nimia had no interest in it, though perhaps she should¡¯ve. She just left it where it was, for anyone to find, and went about her business of trying to climb down an utterly ruined skyscraper. Perhaps a fight on the top floor hadn¡¯t been the smartest idea, but she had been expecting something somewhat more climactic, and climaxes usually ended with an easy escape. Not a long walk down in the pouring rain. Still, she did get what she wanted. Her number had changed, and, equally important, she had her boat back. And a brand new revolver! One that seemed very fancy indeed, its purple diamond almost gleaming in the flash of far off lightning. Now onto the next one. 22 - Omnivorous
Match 25 #23 Nimia ¡°The Rising Star¡± Altamirano Vs. #22 Jaime ¡°The Cannibal¡± Pitcher
Inventory Darling - A mystical saber imbued with the powers of fire and ice; Fire LV 3, Ice LV 1 Death & Debt - Two .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums, formerly named Sonya & Cleon; imbued with fiery bullets. Lucky - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting Wealthy - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Active Effect: Infinite Ammo] Nimia¡¯s phone - For contacting people.
¡°You know, while I appreciate the fact that I¡¯m clearly your favorite of our weird little group, are you sure you want me for back-up on this kind of job?¡± Greenie asked as she steered their speedboat through the canals of Gourmand, a fancy little place down south, ¡°Eerie bayou towns aren¡¯t really my scene.¡± ¡°Aw but Greenie, who else could drive the boat?" Nimia asked as she lounged, putting her feet up and idly running her scaly hand through the water, "Shelly¡¯s not good with water and the boys would sink like stones. Well, ingots and bricks, but you get my point.¡± ¡°Ha ha, yeah, you¡¯re a riot. Seriously though, did they all need to go on some humanitarian trip right now?¡± ¡°Eh. I have a huge boat, there were a lot of freed slaves who needed places to settle down, and my fun new teammates all wanted to make sure they did get to safe places fine, so I¡¯m willing to extend some generosity here.¡± ¡°Feh. I guess. We could¡¯ve brought the chopper though.¡± ¡°And miss out on this lovely scenery? Nah.¡± And it was pretty nice. For all Greenie¡¯s complaining, Gourmand was less an eerie, rundown borough of rotting buildings and invading moss and more like a fancy, upscale leisure town, the type to play host to eager tourists looking for easy attractions and cajun cuisine. And yet, beneath the shine and sparkle, there was a darkness lurking, just like there always was. Bright lights cast large shadows, and the shadow of Gourmand was a powerful Don who ran the underworld of the region with an iron fist, backed by the Red Rose and held up by his own cunning brutality and ruthless pragmatism. The Don was ranked too, so that helped, and held a reputation as a man untouchable in his own territory. So it came as a bit of a surprise to see his corpse hanging from its ankles in front of a large, colorful casino. His open throat certainly added a splash of red to the mostly blue and gold backdrop, as did the lieutenants of his crew hanging next to him, their own wounds ranging from similar slit throats to partial decapitations. What stood out as interesting to Nimia though, because honestly she was pretty numb to gore at this point, was that the murdered gangsters were all hung with vines, not ropes. There were more bodies deeper in, and plenty were more gruesomely and theatrically displayed, often in ways that definitely shouldn¡¯t be possible for a human body with a normal skeleton. Pitcher had an artistic side, apparently. And a gardening side too, considering she saw one poor bastard sprouting flowers from his eyes and branches from his chest. ¡°Eugh...I know the ranks are made up of crazy murderers, but I didn¡¯t think they¡¯d get this freaky,¡± Greenie complained, looking greener than usual. ¡°Eh. You see one lamppost impalement, you¡¯ve seen them all,¡± Nimia replied. ¡°...I¡¯ve seen at least three varieties of ¡®lamppost impalement¡¯ in the last minute.¡± ¡°Yep, and all that changed was which part was impaled. There¡¯s no pizzazz to that.¡± The nuances of artistic murder aside, it took a bit to track down Pitcher, mostly because the 22nd wasn¡¯t hanging out anywhere obvious. Really, by the time Nimia found him, she¡¯d resorted to going house to house while Greenie waited with the boat. ¡°Are you really leaving me alone in the creepy murder town?¡± Greenie whined at the time, glancing around with a nervous frown. ¡°Yup. Don¡¯t worry about it though, I¡¯m sure there¡¯s nothing freaky hiding in the water.¡± ¡°...¡± Now her eyes were glancing at the canal. ¡°...You¡¯re a dick.¡± ¡°Guilty.¡± And she both was, and would be, in very different senses of the word. But before the guilt would come, she had a murderer to meet. And she was honestly a bit surprised to find that her first impression of the man was that he had a really nice ass. It probably helped that he wasn¡¯t covering that view in the slightest, but still, definitely a surprising first thought. Jaime Pitcher was a man with green skin. A slender man, almost disarmingly so; not quite thin, but rather smooth looking. Otherworldly, in a lot of ways, not least because his ¡°hair¡± looked more like vines, falling around his head like the tentacles of an octopus. The only things he was wearing were a brown apron and a pair of wooden high heels, the straps twisting up his ankles and digging into his shins. Aside from those, he was totally naked, and pretty unashamed of it, judging by how easy he was moving as he chopped up vegetables at a kitchen counter. Nimia wasn¡¯t sure who the house belonged to, originally, but it was cozy. A patio door led inside to a nice little dining room that connected right to the kitchen, and that¡¯s where Pitcher was working, beside a steaming, boiling pot. ¡°Afternoon, Miss Altamirano. Feel free to take a seat.¡± ¡°Well if you insist.¡± Nimia sat, putting her booted feet up on the dining as she watched him work. ¡°Do I get to ask what¡¯s on the menu, Mister Pitcher?¡± ¡°Hmm, perhaps you do? You never know until you try.¡± He turned to her with a wide grin, his teeth sharp and brown in the lights and his eyes covered. On his left shoulder was a ¡á symbol tattooed in bright red, standing out against the rest of his skin. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about my epithet, that¡¯s a fair concern.¡± ¡°But you won¡¯t tell if it¡¯s right.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll tell you right now it¡¯s chicken. I¡¯m not a freak, Twenty-Three, I¡¯ve just gotten...bitey when my blood¡¯s up. Besides, how can I be a cannibal if I¡¯m not even human?¡± ¡°Huh. I guess the rules do say it¡¯s anyone sapient that¡¯s allowed to join in, right? So what does that make you?¡± ¡°Someone who¡¯s figured out a way of working in this hellhole we call an Earth,¡± he replied, turning back to his cooking, ¡°I gotta keep some secrets, don¡¯t I? Some have big ambitions, some try to become gods, but I¡¯m fine bein¡¯ a murderhobo with some tricks in his skin.¡± His body suddenly shifted, his skin twisting to a raw red like flayed skin as he turned the other way, showing his now yellow teeth beneath a canopy of fleshy tendrils. On his right shoulder, there was a ¨’ symbol in vibrant green. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I found my own way through life and leave it there.¡± ¡°Fair enough. Is that why you¡¯re sticking around at twenty-two?¡± ¡°Nah, that¡¯s cuz the fucking rat ahead of me is a tough bastard to get to and I decided, fuck it, I might as well enjoy life in my own warped way while I¡¯ve got it.¡± His apron was white now, and the heels on his feet looked like they were made of bone. ¡°So you kill people for fun?¡± ¡°That I do. Usually, I just find someone I think it¡¯d be fun to fuck with, someone who forgets that the only untouchable out there ain¡¯t them, and then I play my game. What the game is varies, and I tend to change things up, but this time, I wanted to go at least a bit bigger. The Don here, he went by Kessel, his mother¡¯s name. His pops though is Scorava himself. You know him?¡± ¡°Yup, he¡¯s Luigi¡¯s dad. Also a bigshot and the Twelfth.¡± ¡°And Attilio¡¯s pops, don¡¯t forget that. The way I figure it, with you coming after me, it¡¯s about time to go big or give it up. And hell, if the wind¡¯s blowing the way I think it is, now¡¯s a damn good time to make my move. Thanks for that, by the way.¡± ¡°Heh. Well you¡¯re welcome for the hope, but don¡¯t think I¡¯m about to hold back. I¡¯m still aiming for the top.¡± ¡°Oh I¡¯d be mad if you did. But before that, I oughta show you some hospitality.¡± Pitcher reached upwards, taking two bowls from the cabinet, and filled them both. He downed his own in one swift motion, letting out a satisfied sigh and a breath of steam, before he brought the second over to Nimia. ¡°Hope you enjoy it.¡± ¡°I might. I guess we¡¯ll see.¡± Nimia took the bowl from him and looked into the soup. Noodles, carrots, small leaves of something or other, and bits of chicken floated in the broth. If he did anything to it, she couldn¡¯t tell. Pitcher smiled, his teeth sharp and brown under a green canopy. ¡°Eat up.¡± The scales on her arm twinged. ¡°...Thanks for the meal.¡± She brought the bowl to her lips and drank. It went down hot enough to hurt, and warm enough to soothe. When she finished the bowl, a hail of gunfire shredded the kitchen and she was already moving, flipping over her chair and setting the bowl down on the floor¨Cgently, no need to break it¨Cwhile Pitcher twisted towards the bullets, a look of shock and rage quickly forming on his scarlet face as a shell of bone formed over his body. More men burst into the room¨Carmored men, in red riot gear with assault rifles in their hands¨Cand fired as Pitcher leapt through the wall, charging out at the damned fools who dared to interrupt his mealtime. Then they noticed Nimia, who raised a hand in greeting. ¡°Sup.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. She was already moving as the closest soldiers turned and raised their guns, her Darling out and cutting straight through the men in red as they tried to gun her down. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure on all the specifics of the situation, but context clues made her think the thugs with red roses on their body armor¨Cwhich really wasn¡¯t too hard to cut through¨Cwere probably working for the major crime boss she knew had red roses as his thing. The fact that Pitcher admitted to killing the guy¡¯s son also made it very likely that this new batch of professional killers made it pretty likely Scorava¡¯s redcoats were here to kill the 22nd, not her. Of course, Nimia was also ranked and aiming to eventually kill Don Scorava himself, so his goons aiming to claim her head too was pretty damn likely, especially since some dicks just threw grenades into the house she¡¯d just made a total mess of. On a whim, she decided to move back and inventory the bowl from earlier before she dove straight through the nearest window and rolled out onto the street, already moving fast as a good chunk of the building erupted in a fireball. And out there, she only found more chaos as Pitcher eagerly leapt into the fray, his apron long forgotten in favor of being armored in gore-streaked bone. He moved quick among men with assault rifles and shotguns, crushing skulls in his hands with ease. That was somewhat impressive, but the real danger came with what he did to the bodies after, throwing them at their former allies and doing something to make them burst in showers of blood and sharp bone. His hands would plunge into bodies and rip their skeletons into spiked trees of bone, stretching and twisting upward in ways that no human could. The man was making a garden of bones, and the poor redcoats sent against him were just material for him to work with. It was a shame they didn¡¯t seem to grasp that concept though, or realize that they really should leave Nimia alone to kill her own target instead of trying to shoot/blow her up. Really, you¡¯d think they¡¯d be smarter about it, but nope, there went the grenades from the attachments on their rifles, and up went a good chunk of buildings in fire and explosions, which Nimia used to cover her movements as she split heads from necks and chest from abs. Not always cleanly, but it wasn¡¯t like anyone was around to mind the blood spray. Pitcher was making much more of a mess anyway, though he¡¯d actually switched back to green from what she could see. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure why, up until she noticed the distant crack of sniper rifles firing into thick wooden trunks. It seemed Pitcher needed material to work his magic, so while breaking bodies with their own bones was easy once he was up close, he couldn¡¯t do the same at long range. Which she decided to test by pulling her newest revolver and firing an incendiary round his way. The wall of wood that shot up didn¡¯t quite absorb it, but the fire didn¡¯t spread nearly as much as she liked before it burst into splinter the size of spears. Spears that Pitcher grabbed and pitched, piercing through a distant rifleman. Sucked for that guy, but Nimia had more important things to focus on, such as the snipers trying to shoot her too. Buncha dicks couldn¡¯t even stick to killing one guy, they had to aim for her too and make her waste time switching chambers and firing now explosive bullets at the distant assholes. Impressively explosive bullets, considering the chunks they blasted out of whatever buildings they hit, and while she was wasting some time having to kill off rando redcoats, she wasn¡¯t wasting bullets on account of her very fancy new gun. Perks of killing off the rich. Of course, she still had the 22nd to contend with, and now there was a whole lot of smoke and fire cutting off her view of the killer plant-and-bone man. She flicked the cylinder back to incendiary rounds and waited. When the wood beneath her feet began to shift, she leapt back to avoid being speared. The spikes of wood stopped, then shot forward, extending like branches as they aimed to impale her before she cut through them with her burning saber. ¡°Ha! Nice trick, twenty-three!¡± Pitcher called, his voice sounding out all around Nimia, making it impossible to pinpoint his location, ¡°I guess it¡¯s a little too easy to guess fire will work on plant powers!¡± She paused, then flipped backward right as the dock below her feet erupted into splinters when Pitcher leapt straight through it, water dripping from his bone-white armor. ¡°But how about bone?¡± He rushed in, blades of bone extending from his forearms as he stabbed and cut at her, each swing and jab deflected or dodged with the help of her blade as she flicked her ammo over to corrosive rounds. She didn¡¯t get a chance to test her theory though due to the massive plumes of fire cutting both fighters off from one another. The intervening arsonist had red roses painted across his black armor, but he wasn¡¯t a full member of the Scorava Family or even a blood relative; he was a ranked killer looking to get paid and move up in the world, and the wrist-mounted flamethrowers he had on were meant to help him with that task. ¡°Tch, interrupting asshole,¡± Nimia muttered, then scowled again as she heard gunfire picking up again as more redcoats came rushing in, shooting wildly until her bullets caught them in the chests. She ignored the screams of pain and sizzling skin as she scanned the burning town. The smoke was getting thick and heavy, lowering her field of vision by the second. She still moved quickly through it though, sword in one hand and gun in the other as she heard the rush of flames and the crack of bones. She didn¡¯t expect the arsonist to have a massive flaming sword, but she had her own flaming saber so she felt she could let it go. It wasn¡¯t like it was doing him much good either as he clashed with Pitcher, who contemptuously batted away the arsonist¡¯s swings with his blades¨C
23 -> 22
Nimia went rigid as she felt her neck burn. A genuine shock hit her that she quickly shook off, keeping her focus in this situation. The same couldn¡¯t be said for the 93rd, who stiffened the instant he felt his chest burn from the sudden number change. His hesitation spelt his doom as Pitcher darted in and stabbed a sharp blade of bone straight up and through the bottom of 93¡¯s helmet, piercing through his head in a burst of blood. ¡°Huuuuuuuuuhhhhhh¡­¡± Pitcher said, tilting his head as he stared at the corpse in front of him, then looked at Nimia on the dock across from him. Water and smoke separated them, but she could still tell he was smiling. ¡°You felt that too. Someone ahead of us is trying to move up in the ranks.¡± His helmet pulled back from his face and he stuck out his tongue, letting it dangle over his chin. Standing stark against the pink of his tongue was the number 21 standing out in stark black, steaming slightly from its recent change. The new 21st stared at the new 22nd. She stared back, and smirked. ¡°I gotta say, that kind of pisses me off,¡± she admitted, ¡°It feels like I just lost out on a fight.¡± ¡°Ha! Y¡¯know, I can¡¯t say the same! I¡¯m glad I get to skip ahead!¡± He laughed. ¡°A step to the top is still a step, even if someone yanks you up!¡± ¡°Eh. Not my style. I prefer to enjoy my fights. Meet new people, kill new monsters. All that.¡± ¡°Neh heh heh~ You¡¯re lookin¡¯ real monstrous yourself there, twenty-two.¡± ¡°Yep. If you want to be queen of the monsters, you oughta look the part, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°Sure do. I want to plant my naked ass on that same throne, and I don¡¯t mind lookin¡¯ as gruesome as I can when I take the king¡¯s crown for myself. In fact, I¡¯ve even been lookin¡¯ to add to my repertoire! Just limitin¡¯ myself to meat and plants seems like too little, don¡¯t it? Course, I haven¡¯t found what I want yet, but I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get there.¡± ¡°Heh. Maybe. Maybe I¡¯ll do the same. I¡¯ve already added a few things to my style.¡± She raised her Darling, showing her off. ¡°Darling here can turn all fiery, but you already knew that one. She can also turn icy, but I haven¡¯t quite figured it out, and I¡¯m positive there¡¯s supposed to be at least two others in it, at least according to the woman called dragon I stabbed, but I haven¡¯t even noticed them if there are. As for Wealthy here-¡± She raised her revolver. ¡°-she¡¯s more of a new girl on the team. Each chamber is filled with a different type of ammunition for seven in total. So that¡¯s explosive, incendiary, electric, corrosive, frigerative, armor-piercing, and adhesive. The last one¡¯s a little weird, but eh, I might find some use for it at some point.¡± ¡°Layin¡¯ all your cards on the table, huh? Well, I guess I oughta pay that back.¡± Pitcher chuckled, his spike of bone still pierced through the former 93rd¡¯s skull. ¡°First off, I¡¯ve got a limit on what I can affect. Blood, flesh, bone, wood, grass, plants in general, all of those I can work with. I need to be touching them, but every part of my body works for it. Second off¨C¡± There was a horrific, ripping, crushing sound as Pitcher¡¯s spike retracted, pulling every bit of blood, flesh, and bone the 93rd had in with it, leaving his armor to collapse to the ground with only a few dry, torn off chunks inside it. ¡°¨Cthat means I have full body control of anyone I touch or pierce, so long as the blade¡¯s still connected to me. So fair warnin¡¯: If I knick you, you¡¯re dead. ¡°And lastly but not leastly, I¡¯ve been playin¡¯ around for the past few minutes. Showin¡¯ off in either red or green. But see, here¡¯s a fun trick to it...¡± His grin widened, splitting his face wide as Nimia saw a second row of teeth form, his skin mottling between a bloody red and a murky green. ¡°I don¡¯t have to switch.¡± A burst of wood from under his feet sent Pitcher leaping up into the air, his body covered in dense, bony armor as Nimia first fired incendiary rounds, then switched to piercing when it became clear the flames weren¡¯t catching on the wet bone. A piercing round went straight through Pitcher¡¯s head in a spray of gore and he dropped into the water, his momentum completely ruined in an instant, though that didn¡¯t stop the boards under Nimia¡¯s feet from suddenly bursting, twisting, and trying to skewer her as they sharped into spear-like branches. She leaped and jumped off of them as they shot upwards and curved around, but there were so many all around, so a quick thought had her decide to turn up the heat, her Darling burning with her passion for survival. Then, when that wasn¡¯t hot enough, she substituted it with her immense rage at the world around her and her desire to win above all else. The resulting blaze consumed a good chunk of the pier in one move, and her swings burnt every branch aiming for her to cinders in seconds. In the sweltering heat and choking smoke, none of which bothered Nimia, the barest sound of a crack was the only warning she got before Pitcher, armored in bone, leapt for her throat. There was still a hole visible in his head as he swung and stomped and lashed out with arms that twisted and extended like fleshy whips. Sharp cuts split them off and cauterized the flesh, but that did little as the burnt meat erupted into more spiked tendrils, twisting through plant and meat as Pitcher took in as much material as he could around him, his feet fusing to the wood beneath as he rooted into the docks¨C Then Nimia shot him in the heart. Death and Debt gleamed in the raging fires, and Pitcher jerked with every burning shot that burst through his chest and set his skin alight. It cut straight through his armor, piercing out his back as he spasmed, the flames licking up his body. ¡°A-Allllriiight, yooooou didn¡¯t mentionnnnn those,¡± Pitcher said, his body shaking and lighting up with flames as he flopped back, his split arms collapsing into limp vines. He still stood though, his back bent unnaturally as he kept his feet rooted in the dock. ¡°Eh. I gotta keep some secrets, don¡¯t I? Sides, you didn¡¯t mention you could survive a headshot.¡± ¡°Geh heh heh...yeaaaah, didn¡¯t...mmm, but I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d get shot in the head eitherrr¡­¡± He twitched, then straightened back up only to hunch forward, his bony armor visibly rippling as something pulsed beneath his skin. ¡°I think you helped me figure something out though...Call it an epiphany¡­¡± ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Plant and meat alone aren¡¯t cutting it...There¡¯s no point to binaries. Trinities¡¯re where it¡¯s at.¡± He chuckled and lifted his head. The hole was still there, and she could see the pulsing of whatever replaced his brain in there. ¡°Buuuuut that adds the questionnn...what goes with plants¡­¡¯n meat?¡± ¡°¡®Plants¡¯ counts for fruits and vegetables, right? And fish would count under meat?¡± ¡°...already blowin¡¯ my mind here onnn ways I could¡¯ve uuuused this, buuut yeah, sounds about riiight¡­¡± Nimia nodded, then lunged as Pitcher erupted into mouths and teeth and desperate, grasping flesh and roots. Her darling slammed into his chest, straight through his heart, and he stopped still, shuddering and quivering. ¡°How about metal?¡± she offered as she twisted the blade. ¡°...nnnnaaah, g-gotttt...ta b-be organic¡­¡± Nimia nodded, then tore her sword down, cutting through his belly and out his hip as flame raged across his skin. The hole in his head had teeth, and was drooling. ¡°What about...mushrooms? Those aren¡¯t plants or animals, I think.¡± ¡°...hhuuuuuh...good point. Very good point¡­¡± His wound cracked a smile. ¡°Good idea there. Especially since I can go telling people I¡¯m a fungi.¡± Nimia snorted and cut his head off.
22 -> 21
Nimia took a slow breath, snorted again, then had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling. ¡°Snrk-ff, mh, god fucking damn it that¡¯s so stupid though...¡± She shook off her mirth and idly kicked Pitcher¡¯s head into the water. ¡°May you keep your stupid sense of humor in the next life, you murderous nutjob.¡± She sighed, waiting for Greenie to call her a hypocrite. Then she paused. ¡°...wait. Where the hell is Greenie?¡± E5 - Heartline
Match 26 Red Rose, Red Heart, Red Blood Starring: Dominic Scorava, Vivian LoVullo
Dominic took a long, slow drag of a cigarette as he walked around the side of one of Vivian LoVullo¡¯s houses. As the head of the Grindhouse and an exceptionally wealthy woman, it was only natural for her to own more than one. The one here was more wide than tall at only two stories, with a slanted roof that made it look almost like a piano. The interior was mostly pinks, reds, and oranges; fleshy, like internal organs. The outside was normal enough. It all sat at the top of a hill, past a gate, up a road. The backyard was taken up by a pool. Its waters were a cherry red. There were seven people back there, all on deck chairs around the pool. He recognized three of them, though the other three were new, and one was at an odd point of being strangely familiar, but feeling as though she was in the wrong place. A woman with a mammoth tattoo...there was something there, he just¨C ¡°Ooo, Dommy, you cheeky boy, staring at a young lady¡¯s ass like that~! You could at least try to be a little more subtle~ Or at even less least focus your attention on my lovelies instead~¡± Vivian LoVullo crooned as she stepped through the sliding screen door of her house. Dominic did recognize Tongue at her side. The pink woman shot him a smirk, displaying an undue amount of humor for a mere lieutenant. A topless one at that. ¡°Donna LoVullo, I thank you for meeting me,¡± Dominic greeted with a short incline of the head. He crumbled the cigarette in his hand, curshing it down into ash. ¡°May we discuss business inside?¡± ¡°Aw, so serious, so cute~! But no, I just finished some work so the place reeks~ Human bodies are beautifully disgusting when you look below the surface level, and there¡¯s always such a need for clean-up!¡± She sighed dramatically and tugged off her surgeon¡¯s cap to show a red fuzz of shaved hair. The stitches and staples in her head were still largely visible through it. ¡°So no, we¡¯re staying out here, especially since I plan on relaxing for a change~¡± He had no idea how she managed to shape her pupils like hearts. The irises were a brighter red than his father¡¯s. More like cherries than blooming roses, or the pools of blood in Victor¡¯s eyes. So many red-eyed people, and Dominic only had brown. It rankled. ¡°If you would prefer that, certainly.¡± ¡°Oh I would prefer a great deal of things, kid~ Ton-Ton, be a dear and hold my coat,¡± LoVullo requested as she removed her surgical mask with one gloved hand and undid her coat with another. Stitches pulled tight vertically down her face and up her cheeks, curling like a constant smile. More wound across her neck, and as the white coat slipped from her body, she bared even more of them. A red one-piece bathing suit covered most of her fair, stitched skin¨Cevery joint had stitches binding the segments of her body together and more crossed vertically down her limbs, as though acting as pockets of skin¨Cthough it had openings along the side to allow her additional arms through. She had six in total¨Ctwo natural, four added, though that was just speculation based on placement¨Cand Dominic took note of a missing patch of skin on one, baring the black flesh that hid under her first layer. ¡°Oops~!¡± LoVullo giggled and clenched that hand into a fist, bringing it to her lips and giving her discolored joint a kiss. ¡°Naughty boy~ Didn¡¯t your father ever tell you not to stare at an underdressed lady~?¡± The joint was fixed as she brought her hand back down and walked past him without a hint of care. Her legs were too long. They weren¡¯t proportional to the rest of her body, but she moved with an easy grace that looked all the more wrong with the open back of her swimsuit. Across her back were six pustules shaped like screaming faces, all in red. Dominic wondered if they really were beating, or if it was a trick of the light A table by the side of the pool was where they sat. An umbrella covered it, keeping them in the shade. ¡°My, you haven¡¯t even considered my dears yet, now have you?¡± LoVullo asked with a pronounced pout that pulled her stitches taut, ¡°I even have an even selection, if you¡¯re looking for masculine or feminine~ I do have more esoteric too, though they¡¯re still in some planning stages~¡± ¡°I¡¯m not interested in buying one of your creations,¡± Dominic replied. He hung his jacket on the back of his chair, showing the obvious holstered guns on his suspenders. None of LoVullo¡¯s people had bothered to take them. ¡°Aw, why not~? They¡¯d love to go home with you~¡± ¡°No, thank you. I have other matters to discuss.¡± ¡°Mmh, just ask about one, alright~? I like to brag~¡± He glanced at the creations by the poolside. There were six of them, not counting Tongue¨Cwho was watching him with a small smirk, still holding her boss¡¯s coat¨Cand the tattooed woman. On the right side of the pool were three men, one gold, one teal, and one purple. They all seemed injured, with casts and braces on their bodies, though they didn¡¯t seem to mind the bandaging. The blue one was even sipping a fruity drink through a mass of bandages over his head. On the other side were the four women. LoVullo¡¯s creations stood out. The closest one was a royal blue, relaxing in a gold bikini. Turquoise speckles traced down her skin while yellow tipped her fingers and toes, and he could see green eyes spaced across her body; at her shoulders, at her collarbones, at her belly, at her thighs. The upper, natural set were closed, but he could see more staring at him. Her hair looked more like feathers, more a sunflower yellow than the gold of her fellow monster. There was enough of it to be braided, resting on her chest as she relaxed. The second one, further down, was a mix of a mint green and an icy white, like a plant frosted over. Mostly along her joints and over the spread of leaves sprouting from her head, which looked completely iced. He couldn¡¯t see much of the third, but it looked like her hair was brown and her skin was...somewhere between yellow and orange. Not natural, that was certain, but there was an odd quality to it. It was something to look into later. For now... ¡°Who is your guest?¡± he asked, focusing on the woman he was most curious about ¡°Aw, mean! You¡¯re not interested in any of my boys or girls? Well fine, if you¡¯re that curious about Tusky, you should know she¡¯s just a little guest of mine, so no touchy touchy~¡± Tusk. The name sounded familiar. ¡°Skalk¡¯s lieutenant.¡± ¡°...God, you can be a real bore sometimes. Yes, Skalk¡¯s former lieutenant, now my guest, and a prospect of Tombstone, so again, hands off.¡± ¡°She¡¯s a Tombstone prospect?¡± ¡°That she is~! One with two notches too~¡± LoVullo¡¯s smile widened, the skin on her cheeks opening to compensate. ¡°She used my pool for the second. Rhodey¡¯s giving her a nice little push along, and I do wonder just where she¡¯ll wind up~¡± Dominic made a non-committal noise in response, looking back towards the dark-skinned woman. She glanced at him as she relaxed on her front, her head resting on her arms. Two bands were tattooed on her upper arm, by her shoulder; one was a muddy gray, the other a murky blue. His mind turned towards the stories of Tombstone, the cult of death, and drive they had to be reborn through dead births, before he directed it back towards the matters at hand. ¡°My father needs to die.¡± Her eyebrow raised, her smile remaining. ¡°Ooo, you¡¯re starting off very strong here, Dommy~ Now why would you say your dear papa is deserving of death~?¡± ¡°Everyone in our line of work deserves death. It¡¯s the one thing we¡¯re all entitled to, immortals though we are. And the simple fact of the matter is that I am my father¡¯s successor. I need to take all matters of the family into account. That includes the issue of his inevitable removal, for the good of the Family.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question, Dommy~ Why are you bringing this up now~?¡± Her smile dropped. ¡°Is it because of Gigi?¡± The air felt heavy. The 17th stared at the 18th and nodded, firmly. ¡°It is because of my father¡¯s mishandling of the Paradiso issue, yes.¡± ¡°¡®The Paradiso Issue¡¯, what a quaint little way to refer to it~ So you¡¯re not happy that Papa Cissy massacred poor Gigi¡¯s paradise and left her to die~?¡± ¡°His reaction put pride over the common good. The Scorava name is more important than just one man.¡± ¡°Or five women. That¡¯s what it started over, isn¡¯t it~? His poor kitties being killed~¡± ¡°While their loss was regrettable, it was not wholly the fault of Miss Summerton. We have a common enemy in the mix, and we were allies until my father¡¯s rash actions drove her to her untimely demise.¡± ¡°Her deserved demise, remember~? We all deserve death~¡± ¡°There is always a tragedy in a death. No matter who it is.¡± LoVullo giggled. ¡°And what about the issue of the slaves, hm~?¡± ¡°Business is business. I have no cause to interfere with another¡¯s business, particularly when my Family profits from it.¡± He let a scowl show through. ¡°If my idiot brother had remembered that, we wouldn¡¯t be having any of these issues.¡± ¡°Mm, so you say~ And what about Altamirano~? She needs to die too, doesn¡¯t she~?¡± ¡°She does, which is why I am willing to offer the full might of the Scorava Family to be directed at this reckless climber. She needs to die, before she drives the entire world to Hell through this naive belief she can change the world.¡± LoVullo tittered. ¡°Now that¡¯s an interesting read of her character~ I don¡¯t think she care about change~ It¡¯s a thing that happens, nothing we can stop, and if things go wrong as a result of her ambitions, I doubt she would care~¡± Dominic disagreed. He did not say that. Instead, he said, ¡°Then that makes her worse. A naive fool can be pitied, but a reckless idiot needs to be put down.¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°I can see your point, I really can, though I have a question in all this~¡± She tilted her head, smiling coyly as though sharing a secret. ¡°What do you know of the revolvers she carries?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± he lied, ¡°I have no reason to seek out information on firearms.¡± ¡°You do if you want to climb to the top~ But I¡¯m getting ahead of myself~¡± She flicked her wrist, and a white revolver formed in her hand, engraved in red with two ruby ?¡¯s on its ivory handle. ¡°Luck and Wealth, two things everyone wants~ It¡¯s natural, because we want to feel favored, and we want to feel secure~ I am chosen by God, because I am fortunate. I am richer than God, because I earned it all. Those promises inevitably lead to Hubris, but then none of us have really gotten close to that peak, have we~? Your name hasn¡¯t, certainly.¡± ¡°My name will,¡± Dominic stated, his eyes on the crimson and alabaster metal. The story behind it was obscured. Some said the queens crafted the revolvers, others said the revolvers crafted the queens. ¡°None except for the First, of course,¡± LoVullo continued, unbothered by his contradiction, ¡°Now, perhaps these aren¡¯t significant~ Maybe I¡¯m ascribing something to nothing, talking up an idea thrown out into the universe that gained substance, gained interest, and started being spoken more of, but the simplest story here is that this gun is one of a set, crafted by a skilled man, and stolen by a differently skilled thief~ Now, would you like to guess it¡¯s name?¡± ¡°Lively,¡± he answered before he could stop himself. ¡°Ooo, close, but no~! Sorry~ Her name¡¯s Healthy~ Healthy, Lucky, Wealthy~ I am blessed by God, because I am never sick~ The drive to be well, to never suffer, to live without pain! Ah, what a wonderful drive~ Do you think anyone¡¯s ever achieved it~?¡± ¡°No. Never.¡± ¡°Wrong again~ One more guess, if you would indulge your senior~?¡± He nearly scowled. ¡°I have a higher number than you.¡± ¡°Yes, because you skipped~ That aside, what do you think Healthy does when you shoot someone with it~? Do you think the bullet rockets straight for your heart and sinks in deep? Do you think they begin bleeding from every orifice until they choke and drown? Do you think it grants immortality?¡± ¡°I would prefer we move along, Donna LoVullo.¡± ¡°Stories say all of those things, but they also say these bullets can heal any wound for those shot. No matter how deadly, no matter how lethal, an individual shot with the bullets in this gun will be fully fixed, fully repaired, made whole once again. Instant regeneration, perfect and pure, almost like killing someone with a Rank. But it can¡¯t fix death. No one can fix death. There¡¯s no bringing someone back after they pass, not in this world, not in this place, not in any true way. You could stitch together whatever corpses you want, but you wouldn¡¯t make the original person. You can¡¯t. I can¡¯t. Her smile was gone. ¡°So, Dominic Scorava, what do you think I should do when one of the only people I¡¯ve ever loved is dead?¡± The tension was thick in the air. Dominic was not oblivious. He was not stupid. He was a rational man. ¡°I am sorry for your loss. If you work with me, we may avenge her, Donna LoVullo.¡± ¡°I should¡¯ve given it to one of my boys,¡± she noted, examining her revolver and ignoring him, ¡°I don¡¯t let it out of my sight, in case I ever need it, but if I had sent it away, maybe she could¡¯ve been saved. But then, she didn¡¯t deserve that, did she? All of us, the murderers with numbers on our skin...we deserve to die, don¡¯t we?¡± ¡°...¡± The table under his hand was mostly metal. ¡°Donna LoVullo, I implore you to be reasonable. We would be better working together than opposed to one another.¡± ¡°Maybe. Tell you what, Dommy. If you¡¯re really willing to work with me, if you fully trust me to be your ally, if you¡¯re willing to call me a friend¨C¡± She leveled the revolver at him. ¡°¨Clet me shoot you, once. I know what these bullets do. I¡¯m not doing this on a whim. It''s a matter of trust.¡± He stared, unflinching into the barrel of her gun. ¡°If that is what it takes, Donna LoVullo, then¨C¡± The spike from the table shot up and through her head in one swift motion, piercing up through her chin and out the top of her head without too much mess. He was already moving, turning towards LoVullo¡¯s monsters as they made no move to get up or even react to their master¡¯s demise¨Conly Tusk seemed the least bit surprised¨Cwhen he heard the laughter from behind him. LoVullo was chuckling; a husky, throaty sound as she grinned at him around the spike in her brain. ¡°You like to take the lead, don¡¯t you Dommy? Alright then. Let¡¯s dance~¡± A gesture sent the metal under his control spearing outwards, where it should¡¯ve pulped her brain even further, but she ripped the table partially in half and threw it at him. He caught it, shifting the metal into gauntlets over his fists, while she tore her own head off and threw it next. A snap of his fingers burst it into shreds of metal and gore while he watched the flesh and bone of her head reform¨Cnot quite like Victor, who always regenerated from his head first¨Cbefore he jumped back, standing on the surface of her pool. Vivian cracked her neck, moving her head around to work out some sort of stiffness, before her wide smile returned and she stepped onto the surface of the pool too, the water rippling where her toes touched. There was a thin membrane of mucus at her feet, slick and slimy, but Dommy couldn¡¯t see that. He couldn¡¯t see most of what was going on inside of the monstrosity that was her body, but then she had no intention of showing him either. Not unless he impressed her. Dominic snapped his fingers, dismissing steel ingots from his inventory as LoVullo raised an eyebrow. Most crashed into the water and sunk, two he caught in his hands and added to the rippling metal that was stretching across his skin. By the time he¡¯d finished, his arms were fully covered in steel, up to his shoulders, and under his shirt, over his chest, protecting his vitals as he launched forward, his arms held in a boxer¡¯s stance as he jabbed and hooked. Vivivian whistled, her lips quirking into a smirk as she jerked and bobbed, letting his fists miss her head and deliberately taking a blow to her stomach so she could spit in his face, a giggle slipping out as she saw metal spread over his mouth to block the playful phlegm before she slammed her palms against his shielded ears and tried to dig her thumbs into his eyes, only for his metal to cover them. She kicked off the pool, flipped over his head, and deliberately sunk straight through the water to drag him down with her¨Cor at least to see if his water-walking effect would smash his head on the surface tension. It didn¡¯t, but that was because he¡¯d shoved his hands upward and smashed her wrists away from his head, then rolled with the momentum to his feet while she was still underwater. Above her, Dommy looked slowly around the pool, searching for the distortion he definitely knew would be down there as that same mucus flowed around her body, acting as a cover of slime akin to some tentacled cephalopod as she swam. It was a fun little trick, one of many she had. Dominic had tricks too though, and the ingots under the water started to dissolve, shedding into flecks of steel that began to fill the water. When LoVullo started to surface, he knew in an instant, and was already moving back and whirling with a solid, slicing chop that split through the viscous cover and into her jaw, spilling teeth into the water as she turned, pirouetted, and landed with a reforming grin and a manic giggle. None of her creations had moved, but Tusk was sitting up, watching with wide eyes as her...patron, maybe? Wiped blood from her mouth and let it form into little spikes of red across the back of her hand. Vivian let more blood spill down her front, not fixing her mouth just yet so she¡¯d get plenty of ammunition, before she pointed a finger-gun at the darling idiot across from her and started ¡°firing¡± bullets of blood. Ones he smashed aside and weaved around, his movements nimble and smooth as he darted in close and swung with blades on his knuckles, trying to carve her open and splitting across the mucus she was letting slime over her body, a laugh sending it burbling out of her mouth before a tongue of blood speared out, narrowly missing his throat. His uppercut smashed her jaw and cut through her throat¨Cthe follow through was hard enough to send her head sailing off, flung into the sky as she laughs without air, letting her body fall back¨C Then all the steel in the water stabbed straight up all at once, all forming together into solid spikes, piercing through the pustules on her back¨Ctwo of which were already gone entirely, leaving dark holes in their place¨Cand tearing through her torso. Geysers of gore erupted with each impalement; LoVullo spasmed, seized, and slid on the spears of steel that held her in place. The ingots, the shreds of steel, were attached to the walls and floor of the pool, holding her body in place as she twitched and her head landed with a splatter of blood on the roof. Dominic sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. Blood was still raining down on him in a torrent. He considered if LoVullo could still be alive enough to use the blood against him. He doubted it, but the red soon leeched itself from the blood soaking his body as he tore the iron from it, leaving yellow plasma dripping down his face and clothes as he turned and walked from the water. His eyes flicked to each of the creations. None of them were moving, none were reacting. Was that an issue? Would they be an issue? Maybe. Maybe not. Tusk was staring, baffled and a little horrified. She knew Dominic Scorava was powerful, that he was the son of the greatest criminal the world had ever known, but it was...ridiculous, almost, to think that Vivian LoVullo could die like that. To think that such a simple trick could do her in. Dominic stepped onto the edge of the pool, lifting himself up onto solid ground the instant a bullet falling at supersonic speeds punched straight into his forehead. It was a testament to his talents that he stopped it from punching straight through his brain. His eyes were still wide, a pained, shocked yelp sounded out as he nearly fell back, the bullet resting far too close to his frontal lobe¨C He had a second to register the pain before he was staring in Vivian LoVullo¡¯s bright red eyes, her heart-shaped pupils like black pits in seas of glistening rubies. Blood dripped down his face, over one of his wide, staring eyes as she cradled his head almost tenderly with black, clawed hands, a cheeky smile on her open face before she gave him a peck on the forehead. ¡°What kind of fucking idiot would make her weakpoints that visible~?¡± she asked as he slowly registered a lack of feeling in his...everything. Blood soaked the edge of the red pool, still dripping from the stumps where she¡¯d torn his arms off with her lowest set. Her upper set was holding his head in place, his neck twisted all the way around. Of the middle set, her left hand was holding him steady, keeping him from falling. The right was straight through his chest, and holding his still-beating heart. ¡°You know, I almost think that was meant for me~ Javi always did have the oddest way of sending me presents~¡± Vivian giggled, then dropped the smile entirely as she stared into Dominic¡¯s eyes. ¡°Dumb fuck. Did you seriously think I¡¯d forgive and forget? Do you know what kind of story you¡¯re in? THAT¡¯S NOT HOW THINGS WORK HERE! But then, you came here with a number higher than me. Even if I gave no shits about Gigi, even if I was completely sunken in depravity and a lust for power, why would I ever turn up the opportunity to go up a rank? Huh, Mister Seventeen?" Dominic had no answer. The only reason he was even hanging on was pure denial. But then, death didn¡¯t care who denied it, and across the world¨Cincluding one small skirmish between a rising star and a cannibal¨Cpeople felt their marks burn as their number shifted.
18 -> 17
Vivian laughed. She laughed loud and long and with a sense of victory she¡¯d been lacking for quite some time, before she sank her teeth into his twisted neck and tore out a good chunk to eat, chewing as she pulled the heart close and let it sink into the ripples of her jet black flesh. Red meat opened and pulled it inside, letting it sink into the depths, and she let out a satisfied sigh as she gained one more life. Admittedly, she¡¯d spent two on this venture. That wasn¡¯t exactly intended, but she was having fun. She just got too into it. Nothing too bad, easily replaceable even, once she found the right donor. She glanced at the bullet hole in Dommy¡¯s head, considering the actions of the new 18th, formerly the 19th. Javier had to know the bullet wouldn¡¯t kill her. At most, it would cost one of her lives. But it did guarantee Dominic¡¯s death. Was there something more there that she was missing, or was it planned by that wasted recluse? She tipped the corpse and let it land on the pavement, stepping from the pool with the idle thought that she was pretty glad he hadn¡¯t actually taken one of her more interesting hearts. She had got so much utility out of the mucus generation that it would¡¯ve been a hard replacement, especially after she¡¯d figured out how to weave it as webs. Vivian glanced at her guest, and smirked when she saw the open-mouthed shock on Tusk¡¯s face. ¡°Want a taste~?¡± Then she laughed again as Tusk¡¯s face showed nervous embarrassment instead of disturbed nausea. Always nice to know where someone¡¯s mind would go first when staring at a naked woman standing over a mutilated corpse. ¡°Well this was a fun diversion. Ton-Ton, be a dear and let the dregs know we¡¯re at war with the Scoravas. I don¡¯t want our idiots getting blindsided like Gigi¡¯s idiots were.¡± ¡°Got it boss!¡± Tongue replied with a sharp salute, beaming, ¡°What do you want the body for?¡± ¡°Hmm...Tusk, does he seem like your type?¡± Tusk stared at her. She glanced at the ripped open corpse. She looked back at Vivian. ¡°...uh...I...no.¡± ¡°Fair enough, I¡¯d never want to push someone into something they don¡¯t want~ Though if people fail to realize the choices they have, that¡¯s really not my problem~¡± She smirks down at Dommy¡¯s corpse one last time before clapping her hands together. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get this mess back inside~ I¡¯m having some project ideas~¡± 20 - Charles Crosswhite
Match 27 #21 Nimia ¡°The Rising Star¡± Altamirano Vs. #20 Charles Crosswhite
Inventory Darling - A mystical saber imbued with the powers of fire and ice; Fire LV 3, Ice LV 1, ? LV 0 Death & Debt - Two .44 Semi-Automatic Magnums, formerly named Sonya & Cleon; imbued with fiery bullets. Lucky - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Passive Effect: Luck+; Active Effect: Bullets are more likely to hit targets, even by ricocheting] Wealthy - A .357 Seven-Chambered Magnum Revolver with a ? symbol printed on the handle; [Active Effect: Infinite Ammo] Nimia¡¯s phone - For contacting people. Soup bowl - A bowl for soup
The Crossroad was the largest manufacturing plant on the planet Earth, though to call it a plant was to undersell the sheer size and breadth of its operations. To call it a factory, too, was to deeply misunderstand the truly massive size of the world¡¯s largest manufacturing city. Transport trucks drove every day to the Crossroad, clogging roads in massive lines leading into the terminals that take up the outer edge of the city. These places bustle with life and chatter because the drivers may have schedules to keep but they are not fully integrated into the Crossroad system. They are still human, and any traveler could still hear laughter and chatter and rumors being spread within the terminals, though few travelers come to Crossroad. Only drivers and prospects, and the prospects do not mingle with the drivers at the lowest points. Prospects are flown in by helicopter, through a sky filled with delivery drones. These lucky many come with bright dreams and promises in their ears, of wealth and success coveted and guaranteed to the pads that dot the upper reaches of the city, where they see the facilities in their chrome glory, bright and pristine in the day and night, forever shining in the light. Here they¡¯ll stay for however long, with contracts signed and promises made not to contact the outside world, to prevent corporate espionage. A look over the side will show the sprawling grounds of the Crossroad, consisting of tracks with trains traveling from the terminals at the edges, bringing materials in and goods out. Up here, a new prospect could see the shell that formed the exterior of the city. Crossroad is a city of layers, with a surface akin to a massive bowl, spreading out in a circle from the central cylinders surrounding the primary structure. Factories dot every part of the surface, chugging along with production as materials are sent up through elevators and products are shipped back out. Factories for toys, plants for plastics, factories for cups, plants for foams¨Cproduction is the lifeblood of Crossroad, all centered at the square building marked with the Cross Corp? Logo. It raises skyward, then comes together to a spire point, rising even higher, to the chief executive officer¡¯s office. Like a needle stabbing up into an observation deck, with only one more elevator as the way up. At the top of the needle stands a white cross, marking ownership. The common prospect travels from the helipad into wonderful accommodations, taken on a tour through the facilities and into all the expectations they could expect to enjoy, all spoken by a smiling worker with a blinking LED on their temple, wearing their finest suit as they explain the expectations, the accommodations, the renovations, the preparations and the procedures. The prospect is here for a job, and they need to know all of this, to one degree or another. Aptitude tests have been taken, but are reinforced here, explained and explored and once the prospect is ready, the floor drops out from under them and they find out where they¡¯re meant to go, dropped down to break and be rebuilt, filled with metal until they work and operate as needed, or otherwise fulfill different roles. Nutrients are needed, plants need good soil, so on, so forth. This is, of course, all for the common prospect looking to join the company. Purchased slaves are brought in packs, in shuttles, kept lower down, and slotted into their places without fuss. The shortage from Paradiso¡¯s fall is causing some problems on that front though, so human capital must be acquired by other means, and utilized properly. Transparent pipes of human gore pump overhead through the halls, along with many other fluids in the giant organism that is the world¡¯s greatest factory city. No shit needed though, the people are upgraded until they don¡¯t need to produce waste or even consume matter. They are workers, not customers; nothing they do should be a detriment to the company, which is why the upgrades put them in debt, and why they need to work until they break and can be repurposed once more. ¡°Why do they need to be smiling?¡± Nimia muttered, staring through the window of one hallway, to a factory floor where humans did the work of machines. She didn¡¯t stop, still walking. She was a woman on a mission, with the memory of a sent message, an arrogant instruction to continue on her path and reach the Crossroad, where she¡¯d find her wayward soul resting in the luxurious heights. ¡°Probably a positivity thing?¡± Mills shrugged as he walked alongside her, adjusting the blue tie he wore, matching his suit. ¡°It¡¯s why some psychoes get freaked out at the idea of retail workers sitting down. You need to be standing at attention to serve their whims, and you need to do it with a smile so they don¡¯t feel bad about it.¡± ¡°Did you ever work retail?¡± ¡°Yup. Probably why I don¡¯t have empathy for human beings anymore.¡± He paused. ¡°No, wait, I never had that, that¡¯s just the sociopathy.¡± ¡°Funny.¡± His gray eyes flicked towards her. ¡°You worried about Lizzy?¡± ¡°A bit. She¡¯s...not exactly average, but¡­¡± ¡°Not a full on monster like us.¡± ¡°Yeah. Don¡¯t think she¡¯s even figured out her acid powers yet.¡± ¡°Still on that, huh?¡± ¡°I¡¯m willing to put money on her having acid powers. That or a dumber bet.¡± ¡°A dumber bet, huh? Okay, call it...fifty grand, and loser has to dress up how the winner wants for the next mission.¡± ¡°And what if I don¡¯t bring you on the next mission? I¡¯m only bringing you on this one because I¡¯m pretty sure Wendell and Shelly don¡¯t want me to destroy the world¡¯s economy or some shit like that. That and Lou still needs guarding. And also I don¡¯t want my boat stolen a second time.¡± ¡°Not losing our home base does sound like a good thing to focus on. Besides, I doubt killing Crosswhite would cause a complete crash on its own. The man might be big asshole in charge here, but acting like he¡¯s a cornerstone of the planet is just stupid.¡± He tilted his head, thinking. ¡°Though if we wind up causing too much chaos here, we might wind up smashing a big chunk of the production pipeline, and there are all those subsidiaries...Eh, fuck it, the world deserves a kick in the ass, remind them not to monopolize.¡± ¡°Pff, I¡¯m not blowing up this whole place...probably.¡± Nimia glanced down at the grinning workers again. ¡°...If there¡¯s a central server though, somewhere these people are being controlled from, I might make some adjustments.¡± Milgram chuckled. ¡°The great savior of the working class here. And if you don¡¯t bring me along on the next mission, I¡¯ll just stick to whatever you pick out until you do. Sound good?¡± ¡°Yeah, sounds good. If you pick underwear or nothing though, I reserve the right to kick you in your metal balls, got it?¡± ¡°Do I get the same allowance if you do the same?" ¡°Nope! Employer¡¯s pettiness trumps fairness for the employee, as evidenced by the festering hellhole we¡¯re walking through.¡± Milgram laughed aloud. The cameras watching them focused in on his grinning face. ¡°I got it, boss. But don¡¯t blame me if I double down now, you hear?¡± ¡°Oh I won¡¯t blame you.¡± She smirked back, before turning her gaze on the blinking red lights. ¡°I¡¯ll just kick harder.¡±
¡°I could kill them at any time,¡± Charles Crosswhite noted as he relaxed, idly watching the 21st and the rat along with her as they traveled up through his headquarters. ¡°You could, sir,¡± Aetheria answered, her head bowed in proper supplication, her hands folded over her skirt. Regolith stood with her, a pair of perfect maids in turquoise and brown. Charles rubbed his freshly-shaven chin with a fair-skinned hand, studying the 21st as she traveled through his halls, unmolested as instructed. At any time, he could simply gesture and the walls would open with carving lasers and crackling tasers, any and all weapons he could possibly want to deal with those who might try to disrupt his business. ¡°No no no, that¡¯s not fun. I said could, you did hear that, right? I could kill them, not that I will kill them. That¡¯s what you¡¯re for.¡± ¡°Of course, sir. Thank you for offering us this opportunity for a rematch.¡± ¡°Yes yes yes, I am quite magnanimous. Just remember, your performance now reflects on Cross Corp as a whole, and a miserable failure would damage our brand.¡± ¡°We understand, sir. How shall we proceed?¡± Charles adjusted his white jacket with a smirk, fixing his cross cufflinks. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? We play the game.¡±
Nothing blocked their way up. No employees, no security. There wasn¡¯t even any evidence of the latter. Honestly, that, more than anything, was what was putting Nimia off. She could see the cameras, but the actual defenses weren¡¯t visible, and she knew there had to be something. No one was stupid enoug to think they could survive the world without something keeping them safe. The elevator up showed more of the Crossroad. It stretched out far; it was a genuine city, or at least a factory very good at disguising itself as one. ¡°Like a bug mimicking a leaf.¡± Milgram glanced at her. ¡°Weird non-sequitur there, boss. I¡¯m guessing you mean the Crossroad?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m trying to think of something to compare it to. Something this big, trying to pretend it¡¯s something it¡¯s not. I don¡¯t think anyone really lives in this city. They just work.¡± ¡°Hm...anthill, hive...either of those work?¡± ¡°Nope. None of that sounds exactly right. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything natural to compare it to.¡± ¡°Of course there isn¡¯t,¡± came a new voice, echoing through the elevator as it arrived at its destination and opened up, ¡°This glorious place is purely the work of mankind. Manmade, by man¡¯s hand! What Babel was meant to be, if God wasn¡¯t a coward.¡± The doors opened to a green field of perfectly cut grass, not a single blade out of place. Clear blue ponds sat even and undisturbed, empty of unnecessary life. Pits of sand sat as intentional hazards, traps in the game. And on the green stood a white man in a navy polo shirt embroidered with his initials, his clean-shaved head covered by a flat cap. He adjusted his grip on the club in his gloved hands, adjusted his stance in clean, white pants, and swung, sending the single golf ball flying across the course to land close to the flagpole in the distance. The ball rolled, landing in its hole as the man turned and smiled, showing perfect white teeth. ¡°Welcome to the Eden above the Crossroads, number twenty-one. You may have already guessed, but I am Charles Crosswhite, the esteemed chief executive officer, chief shareholder, and primary owner of Cross Corp!¡± announced the pompous dick, gesturing broadly with his golf club and nearly whacking his caddy with it. The caddy looked more interesting. Unlike the man she was attending to, or the workers down below, there was nothing organic to her; the upper half of her face was made of purple metal plates, adjusted and placed to look like the features of a human woman, while the sides of her head and her lower jaw were all orange metal, creating an odd contrast that was furthered by the purple metal of her neck. It was a pattern that repeated across her body, with her elbows, knees, and the backs of her hands being orange too, while the rest of her ¡°skin¡± was all purple. She dressed like a proper golfer though, with a flat cap and polo shirt like her boss, though her cap and shirt were both black, contrasting her gray, checkered skirt. Not exactly practical for a fight, but Nimia wasn¡¯t about to judge. Even if the gynoid was giving her a truly impressive death glare. ¡°Yeah, I had a feeling. What¡¯s up with the golf course?¡± Nimia glanced over the rolling field, the beautiful green grass and natural landscape locked at the top of a tower no one else could access. ¡°You didn¡¯t have anything better to put up here?¡± ¡°A man needs his leisure time, my dear! As our ancestor¡¯s said, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.¡± ¡°I met a Jack once. She definitely wasn¡¯t a dull girl, I¡¯ll give her that, though you seem pretty boring, Chuck. I don¡¯t think all the playing is helping you out.¡± ¡°Also, how¡¯s that your motto when you have thousands of people working day and night down there?¡± Milgram asked. He seemed unfazed by everything around him, his eyes mostly on the gynoid at Crosswhite¡¯s side. ¡°Don¡¯t try to speak to your betters, rat,¡± Charles stated with a calm, almost bored tone, ¡°And you needn¡¯t worry, my dear. I¡¯m still quite the interesting man. Leisure hasn¡¯t dulled my senses in the slightest.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll believe it when I see it. This gonna be our arena?¡± ¡°Oh my no, of course not. It¡¯s going to be the rat¡¯s.¡± Milgram paused. ¡°...Mine?¡± ¡°Mortar, this rat will be your first round. If you kill him, you¡¯ll get to face Altamirano.¡± The gynoid, Mortar, nodded, setting down the bag of golf clubs and inclining her head before she walked to a more empty stretch of grass. ¡°...I¡¯m fighting your caddy?¡± No reply. Nimia huffed. ¡°You want my guy to fight your lady, huh?¡± ¡°Precisely! You decided to bring the rat along, so it¡¯s only natural that I decide to clear the field first. It¡¯s either that or I just have him killed here and now. Would you prefer that?¡± ¡°Is Greenie here?¡± His smile twitched towards a frown. ¡°Yes, your pet is my guest here. Now are you going to accept the match?¡± Nimia glanced at Garret. ¡°What do you think, Mills? Do you want a match to yourself?¡± ¡°You did bring me along for a reason, boss.¡± Milgram smirked. ¡°Besides, I feel like I haven¡¯t gotten to show off yet.¡±
His gray cybernetic armor settled over him as Garret stepped onto the ¡°field of battle¡±. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d be having my first big fight under Altamirano on a golf course,¡± he said as he settled across from his opponent. The gynoid showed no real sign of acknowledging him. If anything, she looked bored. ¡°How about you? What¡¯s it feel like being a cute caddybot and having to battle to the death?¡± ¡°Fuck off shitlips.¡± ¡°...HA! Okay, you, I like.¡± There wasn¡¯t anything else to be said after that. A human man in full armor faced off against a robotic woman in a skirt. Still, it was hard to know when to start a fight. No one wanted to be the idiot who dove in and got punched in the face. ¡°Would you get on with it already?¡± Crosswhite called from a nearby hill, earning sighs from Garret and Altamirano. ¡°Eesh, what a jackass. You sure you wanna work¨C¡± Garret bent back, watching as Mortar soared over his head, her legs extended and flaming as jets fired from her back. ¡°Huh, spats. I can dig it.¡± When he straightened and turned, her fist¨Con fire at the moment¨Cwas inches from his nose, but his was slamming into her stomach before she could hit him, though then her arm was locked around his wrist and he had to headbutt her to force her back in a crash of metal on metal. ¡°You¡¯re a real bad match-up for me though. Couldn¡¯t you pick something easier? Electricity goes¨C¡± He bent again and slammed his foot into her chin, noting the blast of buckshot extending from her non-flaming knuckles. ¡°¨Cstraight through me, way easier to deal with.¡± As it was, his suit had heat warnings popping up in the visor already. Not fantastic, even as he rolled back and popped up, watching her shove her jaw back into place before she snarled and extended¨C ¡°Oh that¡¯s a gatling gun.¡± Apparently his fiery foe had some firearms in her fiery arm¨Cwhich did explain the shotgun knuckles¨Cand the fight¡¯s tempo took on a different tone as he suddenly faced down a lady with two gatling gun arms opening fire on him. And while Garret was quite happy to be a freak of nature, he was also not nearly as strong a freak as his new boss, and dodging bullets was pretty far out of the realm of possibility for him. Bullets were fast and many of them being fired at once was much harder to deal with. However, he was also armored and a metal man, so instead of being instantly reduced to a bunch of shredded meat chunks, he at least managed to rush in close, pin the gal¡¯s arms to her sides¨Cshe did try to kick him in the balls, but his were steel so ha¨Cand twist to slam her to the ground as she burst up with flames hot enough to crack the glass of his helmet¨Cand switched her arms back to normal as she did, interesting.. He jerked back, shifted his arm into a blade, and swung for her throat when she opened her mouth and opened up with a massive plume of fire. Something he definitely had to dodge¨Ccons of having a metal body included a whole lot of vulnerability to extreme temperatures, fire being especially shit because his steel skin actually softened¨Cand that let her kick him straight in the chest with feet full of bullets. So his chest plate was pretty fucked as he rolled to his feet, patting down the smoking dents. ¡°I¡¯m usually not a huge fan of armor. Metal that isn¡¯t me tends to get stuck when I shift it.¡± He waved his blade arm for emphasis and she tried to shoot him in the head again, so he shifted into a full on shield. ¡°Case in point. But it is keeping me safe, so I¡¯ll give it a pass.¡± That metal had to come from somewhere though, and he could feel the rest of the suit thinning as he reinforced the shield, up until the firing cut off. A peek showed trails of smoke and he twisted to where she probably was to see a flaming leg sheer straight through the top half of his makeshift shield before a burning foot nearly took out his eyes. Nearly, because he¡¯d shoved forward instead of flinching back, slamming his shield into her leg and knocking Mortar off balance. She righted herself quickly, twisting onto her hands and jumping to her feet in time to catch the bottom of the shield in her mouth, thrown hard enough to lodge there when a second, sharper blade speared straight into her throat. Not a lethal wound, not for her, but dangerous because it nearly severed her brains connection to the rest of the body¨CThen she registered the rat¡¯s fully metal head, his hair sticking out as needles and razor blades and a small, triumphant smile on his steel lips, before his hand shoved straight against the shield in her mouth and shoved. Her eyes narrowed in irritated contempt as he loomed over her again, still smirking as she lost the ability to feel anything below her upper jaw. The sensation wasn¡¯t completely familiar, but she felt some sympathy for her sister now. Being decapitated was irritating. Milgram straightened, looking over to his grinning boss and the sour prick at her side. ¡°So, how was that¨C¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Then the ground opened up under him.
¡°...¡± ¡°Hmph. It appears I lost the first round. Well, it¡¯s always best of three, isn¡¯t it, my dear?¡± the dead fuck at her side said as though he didn¡¯t just send Mills and Mortar plummeting straight out of his shitty sky tower. It didn¡¯t feel real. One second, Mills was celebrating his victory. The next, the floor was open and he was gone, out into the open sky. And Nimia could¡¯ve stopped it. Maybe. If she¡¯d cut Crosswhite¡¯s head off first. If she¡¯d shot the caddy. If she¡¯d tried to grab him before he fell. What did it say about her that she didn¡¯t even move? ¡°Come on now. I still have your pet hostage, so don¡¯t think of doing anything rash.¡± The dead fuck had the smuggest smirk. ¡°You brought your rat here unprompted and unwanted. Why in the world would I accept that?¡± ¡°And your girl? What about her?¡± ¡°The body can be retrieved easily enough. Nothing goes to waste in my Eden.¡± Nimia took a slow, agitated breath, settling her building rage into something...less immediate. Boiling, not burning. ¡°Fine. Fine. Where the fuck is Greenie.¡± ¡°Right this way.¡± There was a doorway on the golf course. A full, fancy wooden office door, carved and engraved and fancy as gilded shit. Crosswhite strode toward it, and Nimia followed, glaring murder at his back. A step through took her into an office. A barebones one, but big. Some huge, opaque tubes were on either wall¨Cabout ten total, big enough to fit an average person with room to spare¨Cthe floor was tiled in white and gray, and a fancy chair sat on the other side. Like an office chair mixed with a big, leather luxury seat. Two more gynoids stood on either side of it, both in maid dresses, which was something. Crosswhite had some kind of fetish, probably. They looked like the caddy, though one was turquoise and the other was brown, and their dresses matched their looks, aside from the white ruffles, white gloves, and white stockings, shown off by the short skirts. As Crosswhite strolled across his office, panels in the floor opened up and robotic arms extended out, whirring as they got to work and stripped the CEO as he walked. Nimia raised an eyebrow as the 20th strolled naked across the floor, noting the number 20 on his ass, before more arms extended with fabric in their claws and he was dressed up again. By the time he sat in the seat at the other end, putting one leg up on top of the other, he was in a full white tuxedo, and that cocky smirk was on his face again. ¡°Now¨C¡± ¡°Where the fuck is Greenie?¡± Nimia repeated. There was a tension in her, roiling. Crosswhite frowned outright, then sighed and flicked a hand. A panel along the wall, in between the big tubes, opened up, and in strolled two pretty annoyed looking women. One was also in a maid dress, though hers was a less personalized shade of black, and her hands were fully cuffed together in restraints big enough to cover both. Even still, she perked up when she noticed Nimia, a smile quickly coming to her lips. ¡°Hey boss! How¡¯s it going?¡± And Nimia smiled back, a bit of relief cutting through that burning rage. ¡°Yo Greenie. It¡¯ll be better when we¡¯re out of here.¡± ¡°Hell yeah it will! This place seriously sucks, the guy running it is a creep and I have this big kitty cat following me everywhere.¡± She inclined her head towards the second woman, who rolled her single eye in obvious exasperation. ¡°I don¡¯t get you, Altamirano. Is this really the type of woman you prefer working with?¡± Ofelia ¡°Jaguar¡± Russo asked, meeting Nimia¡¯s curious gaze with an annoyed frown. ¡°Yup. I have fun having her around. The lone woman schtick can get depressing.¡± Though it would maybe be more convenient. Less people to keep track of. Less people lost. ¡°Really now? I had no idea, because I still have that big team that keeps me company¨COh wait.¡± ¡°Not feeling guilty for that. You made your choices.¡± ¡°Sure we did, and I sure am making more now¨C Crosswhite snorted. ¡°Yes yes, you two have a rivalry, I don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not really a rivalry, we just fought once and she lived.¡± Nimia ignored the sour look Russo gave her in favor of focusing on the main problem. ¡°Also, why¡¯s she here?¡± ¡°Who do you think brought your pet to me?¡± ¡°Oh ew, is that why I have this collar on?¡± Greenie asked with a visible shudder, ¡°God, I knew it was a kink thing, but gross.¡± ¡°It is pretty gross dude,¡± Nimia noted with only the smallest glance at Greenie¡¯s neck. Definitely a bomb collar. Crosswhite pounded his fist on his armrest. ¡°Would you stop with the byplay!? God, this is why I wanted to cyborg her, but noooo, apparently she¡¯d lose her value¨C¡± ¡°Cyborg isn¡¯t a verb, asshole. Also, I would¡¯ve castrated you on the spot, so you out to thank Miss Russo over there for keeping your balls intact.¡± Russo blinked. ¡°Wait, how¡¯d you know-¡± ¡°You¡¯re a piece of shit, but you¡¯re a different type from the runoff over there. So thanks for keeping her from getting twisted into one of his slaves. Speaking of.¡± She glanced back at Crosswhite. ¡°What¡¯s with all the slaves?¡± ¡°Slaves? No, no, these are my employees! Noble workers, for the greater good of society!¡± Crosswhite clapped his hands together. ¡°Some, yes, do start as mere slaves, but upon their purchase, I upgraded them, and in doing so, I have freed them from their warped desire for freedom and gave them a true purpose! Mankind yearns for purpose, for reason to exist, and I give it to them in spades and steel, gifting them with bodies that do not break, do not wear down, and can forever fulfill what they are meant for!¡± ¡°Yeah, no, I meant why do you have slaves when you have robots?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? People pay far more for hand-made goods than manufactured products.¡± ¡°...It...But you replace most of their bodies with robotics anyway?¡± ¡°That just makes them efficient humans.¡± She felt heat in her clenched fists. ¡°...I¡¯m going to kill you now.¡± ¡°No you¡¯re not. This is the second round, remember?¡± He smirked as a remote materialized in his hand. ¡°And there will be a few rules set for it.¡± His maid stepped forward as Russo shoved Greenie, leading Nimia¡¯s disgruntled minion to stand behind Crosswhite¡¯s stupid fancy chair. The smug prick clicked his remote and what looked like a massive screen of glass shot up from the floor and connected with the ceiling, sealing one side of the room off from the other. ¡°Huh. Guessing that¡¯s stronger than glass? Because it¡¯ll be a real waste of money if I can just shoot through it,¡± Nimia noted as she sized up the twin gynoids. Literal twins, considering how similar they looked, though maybe triplets was more appropriate, considering the caddy. ¡°Oh you won¡¯t be shooting through this anytime soon. Not only is it a perfected bulletproof glass, created by my very own magnificent industry, but you won¡¯t be using your gun at all, nor any of your other weapons. If you do, I¡¯ll kill your pet.¡± ¡°I have a name, dickless.¡± Crosswhite stiffened, then scowled over at an unrepentant Greenie. ¡°And I have a bomb around your neck.¡± ¡°Yeah. So? My boss is going to win. She doesn¡¯t need to worry about me.¡± It would sound more convincing if her voice didn¡¯t waver. Nimia smiled anyway. It wasn¡¯t smart. This wasn¡¯t a lighthearted situation. And she needed that fury. So she played along. ¡°Alright, no weapons. I¡¯ll count this as a handicap. You want me to drop ¡®em?¡± Crosswhite looked back at her, then smirked that same smug smirk, another match on the pyre. ¡°Personally, I would like you to drop everything entirely. No weapons, no armor, and why not no clothes at all?¡± Her eye twitched. ¡°I might as well get to enjoy this show~.¡± ¡°You know, I don¡¯t usually get guys brazen enough to demand that. I¡¯ve met people pervy enough to want it, but actually trying to demand it?¡± She chuckled, low and dark, and glanced at Russo. ¡°Interesting man to side with.¡± ¡°I know a lot of interesting men. He doesn¡¯t make the top ten.¡± ¡°I guessed as much.¡± Crosswhite looked sour. His scowl was something ugly. Not fierce. ¡°And how about you two? What¡¯s your story?¡± she asked the gynoids, ¡°Is this the man you really want to work for?¡± ¡°For a shot at you, sure,¡± the brown one answered, smirking, ¡°Sup, Altamirano. Long time, no see.¡± Nimia blinked, glancing at Brownie. ¡°Uh...hey? You¡¯re actually a new face to me here.¡± ¡°How disappointing,¡± the turquoise¨Cthat was trickier to make a nickname...maybe aquamarine would be better?¨Cone said with an electronic sigh, ¡°You did say ¡®if you get fixed up and want to come at me¡¯, and here we are. But you forgot?¡± Oh. ¡°Ohhh. Ekadon, the blue bot. Well, you look fancier. And cuter.¡± Eka curtsied with a playful smile. ¡°I thank you. I was looking forward to this, as were my siblings. You have already encountered Myrio and Koppa, yes?¡± ¡°If they fused into a gal called Mortar, then yup, I did. And that would make you Chilio,¡± she noted with a nod towards Brownie. ¡°Damn right it does. But you got the name¡¯s wrong. Boss calls us Aetheria and Regolith.¡± ¡°Yeah sure he does. I¡¯m calling you Marinie and Brownie, and I like my names better. Though I guess I can go for Thia and Rego.¡± ¡°Or you could call us by our full names, jackass.¡± ¡°Or you could not work for this absolute piece of shit, jackasses.¡± Rego shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s got good tech and he¡¯s our best shot at rezzing our siblings. You know, the ones you killed.¡± ¡°He dumped your sister out of his big fancy tower.¡± She waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Morty can survive that.¡± ¡°Oh so you get to nickname people?¡± ¡°Sibling prerogative. Now we gonna chat or we gonna fight?¡± ¡°Two more things, just real quick. How are we doing the restriction thing? If I were you, I wouldn¡¯t trust me to drop all my shit.¡± Crosswhite¡¯s sour frown vanished into another smug smirk. ¡°And I don¡¯t. So you¡¯ll have to put this on.¡± A floor panel slid open and a robotic hand holding a metal band raised up. A flicked backhand smashed it into steel and sparks, and Nimia adjusted the new wristband on her left wrist with a smile. ¡°Like this, right?¡± ¡°You must really want me to murder your pet.¡± Greenie twitched at that, then took a breath as her collar sparked, not that Nimia had her eyes on her for the moment. No, she was reserving her glare for Crosswhite. ¡°Aw, don¡¯t be like that, you dead stupid piece of shit. Tell you what, I¡¯ll even do a saucy striptease if it¡¯ll calm your murderboner. Just one more thing. One last thing, it¡¯s all you gotta answer. How the fuck did a useless chickenshit like you get into the ranks?¡± He looked too calm. His grip on the remote was tight though. ¡°Chickenshit. Is that really what you think? You should know I killed the twenty-fifth ranked personally, with my bare hands. Then the idiots in front of me kept killing themselves off, so I moved up. Is that what you wanted to know? My secret to reaching the top? Because it really is as simple as waiting. Mortals are too impatient, unable to wait for victory to come their way. My opportunity is coming, Altamirano. And scrambling madwomen like yourself, trying to rip their way up, will never make it up.¡± ¡°I lied. One more question.¡± Jaguar snorted, chuckling as Nimia kept her smile up and tried, difficult as it was, not to smoke. ¡°Did you really kill them with your bare hands?¡± ¡°Of course I did. Though you must want the full story, don¡¯t you? I suppose I should explain, since I know it will exacerbate your aggression. I¡¯ll even let you keep your clothes on, as a treat.¡± He chuckled, light and cheerful. ¡°I didn¡¯t just kill the twenty-fifth, I sponsored his rise. I took a desperate, needy nobody, and gave him purpose. And then I strangled the life out of his paralyzed body because his cybernetics were mine, and I deserved immortality more than some bloodthirsty killer.¡± There it was. The perfect little snap in her head. It decided things. ¡°Got it. Let¡¯s go.¡± To their credit, Thia and Rego made the first move, rushing her both at once with their arms twisting into massive weapons. Buzzsaw for Thia and drill for Rego; nice to see the siblings still kept their preferences. They missed. In defiance of every logic, the two missed Nimia Altamirano as she stood there without moving. Thia whirled faster, the quicker of the two, and took a fist of solid, brutal flame straight to the face in reward. As she flew, crashed, and bounced, Rego took a different option, switching back to fists spiked with small drills along the knuckles. Her fist crashed into Nimia¡¯s, spitting flame like blood into the air as they traded blows, crashing knuckles to knuckles and Rego laughed in disbelief as her systems shook, but she still had plenty to go. The elbows of her dress burst to show pistons raised. She slammed them down to add force and laughed as Nimia¡¯s arm was blown back, driving her second fist up into a chest that wasn¡¯t there. Flames licked into the air as her arms wrapped around Rego¡¯s waist, lifted, and slammed her back in a suplex that planted her into the floor. Nimia rolled up and turned, ducking an arm of saws that blew past her head, then it was a familiar state of dodging, bobbing, weaving as a scowling gynoid tried to carve her up, though chainsaws seemed to be the flavor of the day instead of buzzsaws. The saws were longer, at least, and on her arms and legs, which made it trickier. No blocking, she¡¯d just be shredded, but that didn¡¯t stop her from punting low in reply to an ill-timed kick. ¡°Pain¡¯s a bitch, huh?¡± she commented as Thia crumbled, bent at the waist as her legs gave out, ¡°Also, are the polka-dots mandated, or do you two just like matching that much¨C¡± The spikes of rock were new. Easy to jump off of too, which let her notice Rego was out of the floor, on one knee, and shoving her hand into the floor to sprout those rocks. And all while the robo hands fixed up her hair and skirt. How handy. Also cute that Thia had a ranged attack now. How she managed to form wind blades was something to bring up, but alas, Nimia had to wait because she was about to be split in half. Except she wasn¡¯t, because she still had rocket legs, and a burst of engines sent her across the room, planting her feet on Crosswhite¡¯s big glass shield, and launching straight at Rego as the gynoid managed to turn, an even bigger drill forming just too slow to keep Nimia from grabbing her by the shoulders, flipping straight over her and flinging her right at her sister. Credit to Thia, she caught Rego instead of trying to cut her for an advantage. Which is why when Nimia slammed her fist straight into Rego¡¯s gut¨Chard enough to make even a robot vomit¨Cshe didn¡¯t just tear through both of them. She did, however, blast the duo with enough force to send them rocketing straight out of the office and crashing into the golf course¡¯s lake. ¡°Think that counts for round two?¡± Nimia asked as she turned back to Crosswhite, just in time to see him click the detonator. Her heart dropped. That small part of her, the girl that watched her family die, whimpered, before it was all swallowed by a blinding, incandescent rage that blackened the floor around her and cracked the glass on the tubes through sheer heat. Then it cut out. And she blinked. Because Greenie was fine. Crosswhite was still smirking smugly at her. The glass of his shield was still fully intact. And Greenie was still alive. It took Crosswhite a second to notice that. He glanced at her. She smiled back at him. He looked at his remote and clicked it again. Her smile got wider. ¡°What in the¨C¡± A second spark shorted her cuffs, and as Crosswhite turned to Greenie, he nearly took a palm full of electricity straight to the face. In a just world, he would have, but Jaguar was not a just woman, and Greenie yelped as she felt her arm wrenched behind her back, then stiffened as a gun was pushed up under her chin. ¡°Cute. Could you always¨C?¡± ¡°WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!¡± Crosswhite demanded. And then he went rigid. Because Nimia was laughing. ¡°PFFF¨CBAHAHAHAHAHA¨CO-Oh my GOD YOUR FACE¨C!¡± And Greenie winced, because while she was pretty happy to get to use her own fancy psychic powers, she also really didn¡¯t like being the hostage. ¡°Uh, boss? Maybe save the laughter for after the gun¨C¡± Crosswhite was going to say something. He was going to shout, to snarl, to make some type of threat, demand, whatever. He didn¡¯t get the chance.
Mortar was annoyed. That was a reasonable state to be in. Being decapitated was annoying. Worse was being decapitated above the jaw. At least if she had her mouth she could maybe speak, or complain, or something. As it was, she was just sort of hanging out, waiting for the man who defeated her to either lose his grip or decide to jump. Neither of which seemed to be happening anytime soon. ¡°So, have you seen any good movies lately?¡± Garret asked, his metal fingers dug firmly into the tower of the Crossroads. Mortar would¡¯ve told him to fuck off, if she were able. Both sides of her were in firm agreement on that one, even if his grip on her hair was the only reason she wasn¡¯t plummeting with the rest of her body. Her family really needed to pick better employers¡­ At this point, the Myrio side of her was bored enough to start staring out at the trucks still driving in, just for something to do. The city never slept, work kept on going, and the workers below would never know what sort of chaos was rocking the heavens above. She would¡¯ve sighed, if she could. Then her Koppa side noticed something odd, out in the distance. One of the trucks had a person on it. Nearly 2,000 feet below them and still about a mile out from the city, a woman sat on the top of a flatbed truck. One foot in a fishing boot tapped rhythmically against the roof of it as she dangled a fishing line from her mouth, letting the hook hang in front of her chest, like a stationary pendulum, unmoved by the drive. A tangle of dirty-blonde dreads hung over cracked, gray skin, where patches of blue showed through on the bare parts of her shoulders and chest. One long saber rested in a loop on her green overalls. It had a black sheath and a yellow hilt. The second saber, the one she was resting on her shoulder, the shoulder with the 7 printed on it in deep blue, was also long and sharp. It was a nimcha, while the one at her waist was a shaksha. They were named Leviathan and Behemoth. A bug caught on the hook. Jezebel Trawler smiled and stood. She set Leviathan back in its loop, next to its sibling. Its sheath was white, and its hilt was blue. Mortar, up above, decided to do at least some type of kindness¨Cthough her building sense of impending doom also contributed¨Cand chimed once to catch Garret¡¯s attention. ¡°Hm? What? What¡¯s up? Do you see¨C...oh no.¡± The pure dread in his voice didn¡¯t do anything to make her feel better. ¡°Fuck fuck fuck¨C¡± He turned to Eden above, desperate to be heard. ¡°BOSS!¡± She flicked. She cut. And she sat back down. Garret clung tight to the building and his former opponent, and looked to his left. He was deeply, deeply thankful that he hadn¡¯t been clinging directly to the center of the building, because the enormous gash straight through it said, quite clearly, how bad it would¡¯ve gone for him if he had.
The pain was unexpected. It came sharp and cold, cutting straight through Nimia¡¯s laughter and left shoulder in one swift motion. She glanced to see her arm flying free, and briefly had a moment of intense irritation at losing the last of her original limbs, before the blood spray made itself obvious and her eyes snapped towards the 20th. He was falling back, clutching at his foot and screaming. The cut had split his toes off. Another look showed Russo stumbling back, her arm still around Greenie, and her gun was still way too close to Greenie¡¯s head. Lucky was the best option and it came out to Nimia¡¯s remaining hand as she fired twice. The big, bulletproof glass was cracked. The cut had split it lengthwise. One bullet collided with a cracked piece and sent it flying. The chain reaction sent the glass splintering even as Nimia rushed and leapt for the biggest hole in the window she¡¯d just made. Russo was quick enough to notice her, but not enough to keep Nimia¡¯s metal feet from slamming into her face and sending her smashing into the opposite wall as Nimia flopped off, grabbed Greenie, and dropped to the floor, clutching her close as glass rained down and the second bullet ricocheted through the falling shards. Glass is sharp. It¡¯s exceedingly sharp and deadly when jagged, and Nimia experienced that first hand as shards rained down and stabbed into her back. Her shirt was probably ruined. It was fine. Crosswhite had it worse though. ¡°G-Guhhlkh...hhllrhhk¡­¡± he gurgled around the large shard of glass going straight through his mouth. There were plenty more, going through his wrists, his palms, his arms, his neck, and all across his chest. One huge piece severed his right leg at the thigh, and another stabbed his left foot into the floor, his cut off toes still leaking blood as Nimia stood up and shot him through the head.
21 -> 20
¡°DAMN IT!¡± Russo cursed, glaring at Nimia with her single eye while Nimia dismissed her gun and flipped her off with her single hand, ¡°You damn¨CDo you have any idea who you just killed?!¡± ¡°The former twentieth, and a piece of shit. Deal with it. The only reason you didn¡¯t get a bullet too is because you kept Greenie safe.¡± Her thankful smile was wide, open-teethed, and violent. ¡°So don¡¯t press your luck here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re down an arm¨C¡± She jerked, her single eye flicking to the bullet hole in the wall as Greenie held up a smoking gun. ¡°Hey there, I¡¯m even less nice than my super murderer boss and I have zero qualms about shooting you in the head, more lethally, if you don¡¯t back off right now, Ofelia.¡± ¡°...Shit, alright. I get it now.¡± Russo straightened and fixed her tie. ¡°Try not to die with this place.¡± In a second, her armor was on, and she was jumping back through the growing gap in the wall. Jets on her back flared as she guided her decent, vanishing into the distance of an increasing wet wasteland. Wet, because there was a massive, oceanic pit now present at the bottom of the Cross Road. And the gap was big enough for a person to fit through because half of the building was literally sinking. ¡°Oh that¡¯s bad. Oh that¡¯s really bad,¡± Greenie muttered as she peeked over the side, watching an entire half of the massive skyscraper begin to fall straight down, taking its half of the city with it. Factories, production plants, workers¨Cthe waters below consumed them in equal measure, foam churning as more metal than flesh was dragged down into the dark. ¡°Shit. Uh, boss, what do we¨CBoss? You okay?¡± Nimia watched another man tumble over the side, then took a slow breath. It wasn¡¯t her place to be a hero. ¡°There were helicopters coming in earlier. If we still¨C¡± And lo and behold, her idle thoughts were answered in the form of Mills in one such copter, giving them a wave as he spoke through a speaker. ¡°Hey boss, hey Lizzy. Grabbed a chopper before it slid off the side. Also got a pilot.¡± ¡°...¡± Nimia stared at the pilot in the seat. More specifically, she stared at the upper half of a robotic head sitting on top of the pilot¡¯s helmet, glaring balefully at her through the glass. ¡°...Yeah I guess that works,¡± Greenie muttered. Nimia nodded, feeling tired, but...pretty good. ¡°Yeah. Guess so.¡± She paused. ¡°...we should grab her sisters before we get on the helicopter.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, you punched them into a lake, that¡¯s probably not great.¡± ¡°Probably. But hey, there¡¯s a positive in this if they join up. I get three cute maids out of this.¡± ¡°...I¡¯m changing out this dress the instant we get back.¡± ¡°No you¡¯re not.¡± She grinned as Greenie sighed, then frowned as another thought hit her. ¡°Hey, you used electric powers earlier, right?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, I did. I just sorta...reached inside myself like Wendell¡¯s been saying-¡± ¡°So no acid powers?¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t have fucking acid powers, no.¡± ¡°Fuck. Lost a bet then.¡± ¡°...You made a bet.¡± Nimia blinked at Greenie¡¯s tone, gave her a glance, then grinned sheepishly at the shorter woman¡¯s absolutely venomous glare. ¡°Ah...yeah? I mean, just as a fun thing, since I knew I was gonna rescue-¡± ¡°What did you bet.¡± ¡°...Money? Uh, you seem pissed-¡± ¡°What else.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°What else. You don¡¯t bet for just money, what the fuck else.¡± ¡°...Mills could pick out my outfit for the next-¡± ¡°I¡¯m picking your outfit.¡± ¡°Ah, that¡¯s-¡± ¡°I¡¯m picking your outfit, and you¡¯re helping me get the fucking gynoids out of the lake so their sister doesn¡¯t try to shred us with the blades of the heli she is flying very menacingly.¡± There was a pretty strong sense of menace in how Purpley was flying the helicopter¡­ ¡°I¡¯m still missing an arm-¡± ¡°Is that really impeding you at all? In any way?¡± ¡°...I will agree to it if you keep-¡± ¡°I will put you in the fucking maid dress, asshole!¡± Nimia watched Greenie stomp away, mused that it was kinda cute seeing her get testy for once, then noticed Mills and Purpley were still staring at her. ¡°...We¡¯re good. It¡¯s all good.¡± Neither of them looked like they believed her. Also, the tower was groaning somewhat ominously, due to half of it literally falling into an expanding ocean and the rest sinking down in it too. Nimia just nodded though. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re good.¡± They weren¡¯t, in many ways. But she could be optimistic. So long as she kept going, she could stay optimistic. Just nineteen more. Almost there.