Chapter 9—On The Ropes
Jeanne crouched behind one of the unsuspecting men and threw her head back, letting the potion trickle down her throat. As she spit out the empty vial, her ambush began.
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Greater Potion of Accuracy consumed.
Status Effect (Buff):
Eagle Eye [Lv. MAX]
Critical Hit Chance increased to 100% for four seconds.
Status Effect (Debuff) after expiration:
Nerve Overload [Lv. 2]
Deterioration of motor functions for 2 minutes.
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The moment she revealed her hostility, a faint glimmer appeared around her first target’s eyes, confirming her guess. The man owned an active skill. She’d caught glimpses of it during her stakeout, but she was almost certain he wasn’t a sunrat. In that case, he must have gotten it through a skillbook, and not a level up. A skill that helped with detection or something else. She didn't need to find out.
“Behind me!”
The man turned around, his eyes screaming, but Jeanne didn’t let it slow her movements. Twice had she already spun around her axis before gaining enough momentum with the heavy rod. His head moved, trying to dodge her strike, but it was too late - there was no escape for him. The potion steadied her hand as her weapon honed in on the critical spot on his temple like a pair of two attracting magnets.
The rod stomped down on its target, crushing what hid beneath its skin to smithereens, and the man howled out in pain. His body twitched out of control before collapsing onto the ground like a house of cards. One down. That was the easy part.
Killing was not uncommon in Junkyard, but that didn’t mean everyone was a savage. There were other options, as long as the situation allowed for it, like destroying the implanted chip. It was a close second to death; pain aside, few could afford another surgery in their lifetime, and without it, some might as well wish they had died. Given that, a chip wasn’t easily broken, but her iron rod had been forged for that single purpose.
The implant was the result of a complicated procedure that connected the entire nervous system with the chip that was embedded into the skull. It created an incredibly deep connection with its host, especially with the brain. Fatal damage to the chip had devastating consequences. It caused severe trauma to both body and mind. One might recover from that, but the least all victims suffered from was memory loss.
Something which Jeanne most welcomed. As long as she succeeded here, the issue of her necklace would be dealt with. She’d go back to no one knowing about it, except for one lousy rat.
Her enemies didn’t remain startled for long. The knifes in her hand took flight, aiming towards the vials touching their lips. They found their target with ease, crushing the potions, and she’d bought herself another second.
She threw another fan of knives blindly, but they would hit one of her ranged enemies without fail. Gunshots fell as she headed for the other ranged, a woman, who emptied an entire cartridge of her handgun at her. A few of her shots missed, thanks to her stealth attribute, while the rest bounced off the blue hexagons on her chest and legs, formed by the timeous appearance of a blue haze exiting her clothing. Not all the bullets damaged her shields, but it was enough to make her worry.
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Hit. Physical Shield -50.
Hit. Physical Shield -50.
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Seeing what happened to her partner, the woman stumbled away, her terrified eyes nailed onto the rod in her hands. Jeanne swung it like a claw, and her target ducked under it, caring nothing for elegance, or what would happen afterwards. She crashed against the ground, sticking her left temple against it, whimpering, while her arms covered the other side of her head.
Jeanne didn't have the time to untangle her. She aimed for a different critical spot, sending the rod in her hand flying against her chin. It crushed her jaw while the exact location of the impact send a jolt through her head that rendered her unconscious. Two down. She would worry about crushing her chip later.
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Greater Potion of Accuracy expired.
Status Effect (Debuff):
Nerve Overload [Lv. 2] for 2 minutes.
Critical Hit Chance -100%.
Hit Chance -50%.
Dexterity -50%.
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Jeanne let the rod slip out of her trembling hands. Another gunshot decreased her shields by fifty when she heard shattered glass. The three remaining men had consumed their potions while she was busy. She didn’t see which, so she assumed the common pre-combat strengthening ones.
The barrel of the handgun of her remaining ranged enemy was trained on her. She took off her cloak and threw it into the air towards them, but it didn’t stop the bullets from hitting her. They easily pierced through the cloak that had already run out of its shield points when she was shot in the back earlier.
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Hit. Physical Shield -15.
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Finally, he’d run out of his good bullets. She took hold of her rare daggers, whose only effects were an increase in stealth, and a negligible increase in damage.
She threw one of her pouches to the right and ran to the left as her cloak fell back to the ground. The distraction did little; her enemies had regrouped instead of advanced. Their two melees stood in front, covering their gunner behind them. They obstructed his line of fire, but his companions' shield points likely doubled her own, allowing him to fire at will if necessary.
Running away wasn’t an option. Even if they kicked out the crippled chipless from their group, she might never find them again. Hunting them one by one, her usual M.O., didn’t work. She had too little information on them. Not even enough to know whether the unconscious woman was worth using as a hostage.
She threw her last wave of knifes and clicked her tongue when she missed with all of them. Jeanne circled around her enemies, keeping the melees between herself and the gunner. No questions were asked. No demands or concessions as they stared each other down. They knew what she’d come for, even if they didn’t know how she’d found them. Peace talks or trade had never been a valid solution.
She had two cards left to play. Stalling for time, she thought about what would come after, but her enemies realized her intentions. The man carrying his trash bin shield stayed behind while his partner’s chipped blade cut through the air towards her. Jeanne crossed her daggers in front, meeting the sword that forced her to her knees. The man didn’t look like a powerhouse, but the weight behind his strike almost knocked the weapons out of her hands. Something out of sight increased his strength. An undershirt, maybe, or a potion. Regardless of which, she was forced to deflect each blow, letting the sword slide along her daggers.
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As she struggled with her defense, Jeanne realized her daggers had another use. She continued parrying his chipped sword, and their blades rung throughout the hall like bells to their dance. It became harder for her to match the sword, struggling with her trembling hands that failed to obey her. In the corner of her eye, she saw the other melee sneaking around her back, ready to strike her while her current opponent weaved in and out of their exchange. It allowed for the occasional bullet to scrape away at her shield points.
Their coordination didn’t show any obvious holes to exploit, but during the next parry, she felt the opportunity. Pushing her daggers against the sword with all of her might, locking it against hers, she cut a cross through the blade that could no longer endure the abuse. It shattered in half, and prepared for the impact, Jeanne lunged forward together with the momentum.
Her opponent was caught off-guard. Losing his balance, he stumbled against her, defenseless. Her daggers slid under his clothes, where her trembling hands wouldn’t miss, tracing red lines on his skin. This way, his shields didn’t come into effect.
She climbed around him like a snake; her dagger reaching for his neck. She pressed it hard enough to draw more blood, leaving him no room to struggle. Her temporary hostage became a shield for the gunner, creating another much needed breather as she watched out for the remaining melee.
If they were talking to each other, they used private messaging. Jeanne couldn’t figure out what decision they’d make. But if the paling face of her hostage was any sign, it didn’t seem good for her in that regard.
He wanted to talk, but she silenced him by increasing the pressure. Her free hand fumbled around in one of her pockets. She dropped almost all of her needles to the floor until she finally held onto a single one.
“Easy girl,” the gunner spoke up, his hoarse voice trying to sound soothing without lowering his weapon. “You win. Tell us what you want and we can all go home in one piece.”
His words fell on deaf ears. She’d seen better acting before, and not just recently. Her hostage grunted as she drove in her thin needle under his ribs. It took her several tries until her unsteady hand found the right spot. She pulled off the glove of her left hand with her teeth and returned it back to the needle. A buzzing sound only the two of them could hear passed through the copper, and her hostage fell unconscious without a peep. Hopefully, the others didn’t realize what she’d done. If so, she might have a chance.
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Lightning discharge used.
Energy -2 (8/10).
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Her artificial limb looked like any other hand from the distance, even without the glove on. She didn’t give them the time to notice anything, slicing the man’s throat in the most vicious manner she knew. It was a shallow cut that didn’t harm him, but she threw him behind her like she’d a corpse, searching for holes in their defenses admits their surprise. Friends or not, they shouldn’t expect her to be this ruthless.
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Nerve Overload [Lv. 2] ended.
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There was no anger, only shock, but Jeanne tried to capitalize on the moment, regardless. She closed in on the melee, clashing her daggers against his raised shield. He’d recovered in time and they exchanged blades. Exhaustion was taking its toll on her and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer, but she forced herself to draw out their exchange, keeping an eye out for the gunner. Ringing for air, she blocked the strikes coming from both shield and sword as she retreated backwards. A little more and she got them right where she wanted.
By leading and hiding behind the melee, she controlled the gunner to walk close to the pouch she’d dropped. When he almost stood on top of it, Jeanne gave the command to her implant and detonated the mine within it. The RBM-745 send a shock wave through the air together with the gunner covered in a ball of blue. His shield crumbled under the impact as he crashed against the ground, where he remained unmoving.
Her last enemy turned around in shock and she threw her daggers at him. His shield didn’t block them in time, but the daggers merely bounced off his blue hexagons. He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind and raised his sword. He was about to cut her in half, but the sword that should have pierced through her physical shields bounced off her raised left arm. It slid alongside it, scraping away the fake skin on her forearm. She reached for his neck with her artificial limb, fighting against the shield that desperately tried to push her away.
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Lightning discharge used.
Energy -8 (0/10).
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Please work.
Her prayer was answered. The man didn’t have a magical shield up. He jerked much like her first victim before collapsing to the ground. She noticed the gunner that had been sent flying by her mine was raising his gun and she pulled off the cloak of her latest victim, spreading it in front of her. Her earlier attack had drained none of its physical shield points. She greedily filled her lungs with air, dropping to her knees and waiting until the gun fell silent. She did it, somehow she-
Jeanne didn’t see the blow that struck her from behind. The fist-strike shattered all of her remaining shield points as it struck her unguarded back of her neck; a critical weak point. She collapsed onto the ground, where she struggled to stand up before a kick knocked the air out of her lungs. She fell onto her side, twisting and clutching her stomach, and when she looked up, she saw the man she’d driven her needle in. How had she not noticed him at all?
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Status Effect (Debuff):
Bleeding [Lv. 3]
Confused [Lv. 2]
Dazed [Lv. 2]
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The answer hung around his neck. Kicks rained onto her as her hand stretched out toward the necklace, longing for it, before it was crushed underneath another boot. The gunner had come over. She cried out, struggling to pull her hand away, when another barrage of kicks send her head reeling.
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Status Effect (Debuff):
Bleeding [Lv. 3] --> Bleeding [Lv. 5]
Confused [Lv. 2] --> Confused [Lv. 6]
Dazed [Lv. 2] --> Dazed [Lv. 6]
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Why was he already up again? An endurance potion. Or was it something else? Did he just pretend, or was it a fast recovery? An elixir? No way. She hadn’t seen enough to know how, but he'd recovered... Mary had always warned her to never pull her punches. Don’t show mercy if you want to leave. A ruthless place demands for ruthlessness of your own. It was the one thing they never agreed on.
She had done her best, using every ounce of her advantage and a lot of things had gone right for her. But there was no second place, no reward for almost winning or doing your best. Her mind went on tangents of its own while she was kicked around like a rag doll, her HP bar rapidly decreasing. For a moment, she thought she saw something glimmering in the distance. It reminded her of that TV she’d once seen. One that actually worked. Unbelievable, right?
When her HP reached 15 points, the barrage of kicks ended, but she wouldn’t know either way. The world was tumbling and so were her thoughts, but through glistening tears, she saw the two men staring at each other as if they were talking with their eyes. The necklace was right there. They were gesturing something, and maybe speaking, when they suddenly shot around like startled beasts.
“...I knew... come... alone.” She made out the words, but not their meaning.
Jeanne couldn’t see what was happening with her listless head hanging to the side. But she heard the rattling metal wandering into her ears as if from a place far away, and from a time so long ago that she barely cared to remember. It reminded her of that bell she used to hate. Was it time for questions? She didn’t care for them and they were boring. Still, she should try to do well. Maybe they’d give her another letter... That’d be nice. How long it’d been since the last one...
But that wasn’t quite it. It sounded different to that one. The ringing came from a place more recent. A place she didn’t hate as much, but the details eluded her.
“This is not a playground.” It was the gunner, she thought she heard speaking, and he sounded more confused than surprised. “Go away, child.”
The rattling continued in a steady rhythm, almost like a melody. For some reason, it sounded nice. She gathered what little strength remained in her and rolled her body around. She was half-way there, staring at the ceiling, when the shadow of a human flew through the glimmers of the moonlit-night. A moment later, a distant, dull echo rang throughout the factory hall.
“Y-You-!” His voice was now clad in terror and gunshots pattered against metal. “W-Who are you?”
The clanking armor that stilled the night in its lullaby had nothing to say to him.
“Wait! Stay away-!” Another screaming human bullet shot past her. She couldn’t even think of why seeing that made her crack a smile. It hurt, smiling, but it felt great.
“Don’t forget. Crush chips. Always, always crush chips. And get necklace! Crush chips. Get necklace.”
A new voice, but she’d heard it somewhere before. It was on the tip of her tongue, but it got lost in the drumming of her head.
“And new human! She is nice.”
Her swollen eyes found a knight in shining armor. He reflected the moonlight, illuminating her vision as she stared at him from beneath. Walking like a statue come to life, he came over to pick her up. As she was held by the embrace of the cool steel, peace washed over her, guiding her into a deep slumber, knowing she could leave the rest up to him. A strange feeling, that was.