15. The Portal That Still Hates Me

I should expect this by now, but it doesn’t take long for the Portal realm to throw out its first instance of bullshit.

I’m about ten basketball-free steps into the corridor when a big blue glob rises out of the floor in front of me. The glob quickly transforms into a—actually, what is this thing?

Best way I can describe it is if a household humidifier and a wacky inflatable tube man had a baby, and that baby grew up to identify as a Terminator.

It’s about my height. It’s covered in thin clouds of vapor that shoot out of numerous vents. It has a roughly tubular shape, and instead of flailing arms, it’s got two slender laser-gun barrels that curl out from either side of its trunk. And yeah, the tip of its ‘tube’ has this smooth depression, from which a pair of red, glowing, robot eyes stare out at me with what I have to assume is murderous intent.

I see this, and my first reaction is to laugh.

Yeah, maybe I’m still a bit jaded from my first experience with one of these Portal realms. I just find these ‘obstacles’ more tedious than scary, and even if one takes the form of a man-sized shooty robot with Terminator eyes, my only thought is: this better not be one of those glitches like last time.

Thinking the worst that can happen is I’d have to ‘start over’, I decide to take the initiative. I try to get the jump on Wacky Tube Terminator by opening with a [Glock Strike].

The moment the pistol fires, though, Tube Man’s ‘vapor aura’ shifts around and condenses into one spot. I hear a clink, see the spark of something brassy drop harmlessly to the floor.

Oh, Tube Man’s got hands! Just a moment ago, I had no idea how the ‘humidifier’ part fit into the equation, but now I see the vapor isn’t just for show.

At this point, one of Tube Man’s guns-for-arms (literal, not gym bro euphemism) lights up, ready to fire. I get ready to sidestep out of its trajectory, thinking it won’t be much different from dealing with one of them basketball drones.

The robot arm fires. Laser beam grazes my trailing leg. Singes it real good.

I grit my teeth, more at the annoyance of having to ‘start over’ than at the pain. Except… I don’t start over.

There’s no reset. I’m still in the middle of the corridor, facing down the same Wacky Tube Terminator who is already readying his second shot.

Instead of panic-rolling, I respond with a panic-[Glock Parry]. The ensuing pistol shot manages to knock Tube Man off-balance, sending his laser shot well wide of the target (well wide of me; the target is me).

I quickly transition into a panic-swing of the sword, praying that the blade of a claymore could cut through an alien robot’s vapor aura bullshit. In other words, using my sword like an actual sword.

You want the good news or the bad news? The good news is yes, the STSG does manage to cut through the vapor. Apparently, Tube Man’s weird humidifier trick is more suited for projectile defense.

The bad news is that said ‘cut’ is still useless. Because I’m fucking useless.

The swing is slow, awkward, and a real strain on my layman’s physique. A great disturbance in the Status Quo. A million tendons and ligaments suddenly cry out in horror and are suddenly silenced.

For my trouble, the STSG merely bounces against Tube Man’s robotic frame. It does leave a mark, so I know the thing isn’t impervious to all sword cuts—just weak-ass ones performed by an Earthling novice.

But apparently, just the threat of a blade is enough to make Tube Man take a more cautious approach. The base of its trunk lifts slightly, revealing the ‘motorcycle wheel’ underneath. It revs and backs away further down the corridor, out of a claymore’s reach.

I mean, I ain’t mad. It only makes sense for a fighter specialized in projectile defense and ranged attacks to try and maintain distance from its opponent at all times. Besides, it gives me the split second of breathing room needed to reassess my situation.

I still have this burning pain in the left leg where I got shot. I don’t need to look down to know that shit’s fucked and that my brand new adventurer pants are already ruined.

Also, holy fuck. This isn’t a test! Taking a hit here doesn’t lead to a reset. And taking a lethal hit means I will actually die.

Gone entirely is my earlier dismissive attitude. Instead, I’m super scared and also hyper focused. It’s not only that I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die here and to this.

Split second over. Both combatants ready their next move at the same time—Tube Man with its charging laser arm, and I with an overhead stance. Because, at this distance, I know the only attack that can reliably hit is [Glock Strike].

The pistol comes out faster than the laser. The ensuing bullet once again falls harmlessly to the side, rebuffed by a shifting vapor shield.

At this point, I’m already readying my evasive maneuver, a diagonal slide that should bring me closer to Tube Man while also dodging its laser beam. To my surprise (and relief), the attack doesn’t come. The arm in question goes back to its baseline, non-glowing state, as if its charge had been interrupted.

“Oh, I got you now, bitch.”

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I recognize this phenomenon. It’s the bane of every MMO sorcerer’s existence. You’re charging up your big multi-tier spell that would take out a chunk of the raid boss’s HP. But then one of the tanks forgets to do a mechanic, lets an enemy attack leak through to your location, and you’re forced to click out of your spell. And now you have to restart your charge from the first tier!

Well, Wacky Tube Sorcerer, you’ve shown your hand. All I have to do now to keep your laser bullshit at bay is to counter with my pistol bullshit.

Tube Man persists with its one-note AI, alternating between its two arms to try to get a shot off. I don’t let it, responding with [Glock Strikes] timed to hit just as Tube Man’s done charging its attack.

There’s a certain rhythm to this, and I’m able to use the brief moments of safety to dash forward and shrink the distance. My left leg hates me for it, but I’ll make it up by, you know, staying the fuck alive.

Before long, Tube Man is backed to the wall of the T-intersection. And that’s when it stops moving altogether.

Theoretically, it could still continue being the mouse in this cat-and-mouse game by choosing one side of the intersection to slide onto, but it doesn’t. I don’t know if it’s adhering to some higher directive or if it’s just stupid, but either way, this only makes things simpler for me.

When I get close enough to Tube Man, I decide to change tack. The next time it charges up a shot, I wait until the last possible moment to then bring the hilt of STSG up to my face.

The last one was kind of a lucky accident, but with this, my timing of it is deliberate. I aim for the briefest of windows where Tube Man’s attack goes off and its vapor shield is rendered inactive. [Glock Parry] sneaks into this window and manages to stagger Tube Man, causing the laser beam to fly slightly off-course and singe the top of my hair.

A closer call than I would’ve liked, but I can’t worry about that right now. With my sword already pointing outward from my face, I quickly transition into a thrust. If I’m no good with a sword swing, maybe a simple stab is the way to go?

The tip of STSG finds the ‘depression’ where Tube Man’s Terminator eyes are, then buries itself with surprising ease. I’d expected more resistance, and I nearly stumble as I find myself sliding forward along with the trajectory of my sword. I look up in horror at the weirdly gruesome picture of a claymore stuck between a pair of red robot optics.

Then my horror quickly turns to alarm. Tube Man’s still moving. Still trying to kill me.

Its vapor shield is up again, this time forming into tendrils that wrap around my arms, holding me in place (I didn’t know it could do that!). At the same time, its right arm is charging up another laser beam—surely a lethal one at this range and with its target immobilized.

In the split half-second where I realize I’m about to die, even my alarm dissipates. Instead, I’m consumed abruptly and absolutely by rage.

What fucking bullshit is this? I’m about to die here in this alien dimension I know nothing about, to this joke of an enemy and its magic humidifier mechanics?

Along with my all-consuming rage, I feel this surge of energy that passes between my hands and the STSG’s hilt. Then, that energy quickly becomes palpable heat, just as the claymore blade lights up with a bright orange glow.

Explosion.

That’s the only word for it. The STSG’s blade explodes like it’s a C-4 that just went off.

I shut my eyes tight as I’m blown backward by the blast. I land on my butt a good few meters back from the end of the corridor. Still alive, as far as I can tell.

Through it all, I somehow manage to hold onto the STSG—my lifeline in this fucked up world with its bullshit enemies. I then scramble to my feet as fast as I can, ready to defend against more robot shenanigans… only to see that I’m in the clear.

Yup. All that remains of Tube Man is a scrap heap that’s been split straight down the middle. Its innards are a mess of charred parts and frayed sinews that are somehow just as sickening as if they’d belonged to a creature of a more organic persuasion.

I see this and throw up in my mouth just a little bit. Of all the weird ways I’ve killed things so far in my Isekai adventure, this is somehow the goriest and most violent. The sight of it reminds me of something I’d seen recently, and I struggle to recall what that is.

It takes me a little while to remember. The inner sanctum of that Dragon cave Leto and I conquered the other day. The way the cave walls had been all scarred and ‘shredded up’, like they’d been gouged out by the claws of an enormous, ancient beast.

The Scrap Heap That Used to Be Tube Man has that same ‘gouged’ appearance. Which leads me to christening my newly discovered technique with the name: [Dragonclaw].

I mean, it’s clear it’s in the same family of skills as [Flamethrower], granted by the Dragon’s gemstone. Up until now, I didn’t know there was a family of skills, but I’ve also never tried to stab anything with the STSG. Up until now.

Welp, more STSG mysteries and my own chuuni tendencies aside, it’s time for me to leave Tube Man behind and explore the rest of this Portal realm. Try to find an exit out of this godforsaken place.

T-intersection at the end of a corridor. A fork in the road. I look both ways and find that they both end in short stubs, bookending the T’s crossbar with Portals on either side.

A choice between two Portals. I kinda had a feeling it would come to this.

The first thing I do is limp over to both screens and stick my hand in, forearm deep. In both cases, the screen merely shifts to show a nondescript blue space with no distinguishing features. No clues as to what the next destination has in store.

Except… well, this is strange. I don’t see any distinguishing features, but I do feel them.

You see, the Portal on the left gives me this feeling of stern discipline. Kinda like my piano teacher from when I was little. Whereas the Portal on the right gives me warmth, comfort, and floof. Like Blueberry, our old family cat!

I don’t know how to explain it or if there even is an explanation. But come on, if you had a choice between a scary piano teacher or a reunion with a beloved pet, which would you choose?

Mood already improved, I skip over and dive head-first into the Portal on the right.