195 - Sewer Wars Pt. 4 [Cherno] (Patreon)

As she looked down at the two, Krahe decided that she didn’t care to kill them. They barely looked like adults, their eyes lacked any sort of hardened shine. They didn’t belong here… And they reminded her of stupid kids back in Megacity Gamma. Stupid kids that joined gangs, thinking it was a glamorous lifestyle, only to get shot like dogs to protect bastards that actually deserved those bullets.

With a gesture, she raised a slab of smoky jade so that it would entrap the two of them in the corner, but only pushed it to chest-height so she could easily peer over it. The Viridaimon Armor made her a head taller, granting her a truly towering presence at over 200cm. Fully exploiting the ominous size and stillness of motion granted by the armor, Krahe leaned forward slightly to look down at the pair.

“You won’t be this lucky next time,” she said, her voice distorted and deepened by the mask. “Get your shit together. Perhaps go to one of the churches or join a proper agency. You don’t have what it takes to traffic children for man-eating fly-men.”

The boy had gathered his wits, standing as tall as he could, staring back at Krahe with a defiant, but fearful gaze. She leaned in further until she could see the boy eye to eye from only centimeters away, then willed Viridaimon to uncloud the lenses as she conjured a handful of CRC Rings into her hand. They totaled 5000 DDs in value, including four of a 1000 DD and two of a 500 DD denomination so they could be split evenly.

Sprinkling them onto the moron’s head, she added: “That’s a good thing. Stay still and be quiet. The panels last an hour…”

At that moment, Barzai alerted her to an approaching person. She was surprised it had taken them this long to build up enough guts to try and suss her out. Turning on a bootheel, she raised her left hand and formed yet another smoke grenade in her right. Before she moved on, she added: “...And avoid the Silversword Agency.”

She had barely interacted with them whatsoever, but those interactions combined with what she had heard and read about them had sowed the seeds of distrust and dislike. Out of every group in Audunpoint, they reeked the most like a typical black company.

Krahe approached the storeroom’s entryway, raising a few more barriers as she went to prepare the field, leaving the Forming Toroid at roughly half charge. That default 2mx1mx30cm, 10-charge slab was really too much for most uses.

In these close quarters, using Tracers was not the ideal choice. She directed the belt’s output to the catalyst, building up a charge while embedding it with the mental pattern of Deathsmoke Spray.

As the first man stepped into the storeroom, Krahe already waited for him. At that instant, she released the smoke burster, letting it burst at her feet. She released the charge, and instead of a stream, the casting catalyst expelled a burst of black and red that smashed through the man’s wards and sent him flying like a ragdoll. He trailed blood as he flew, crashing into the edge of a crate and smashing his head against it, both of which his wards soaked up. He was left there wheezing in shock with a fist-sized chunk of meat missing from his stomach, and growing larger with each passing moment as the deathsmoke ate away at his flesh like a smoldering flame spreading through steel wool.

This was the exact “shotgun” effect she had been looking for when she first conceived of Deathsmoke Spray. It was just a shame it was locked away behind a high-performance prototype Mamon Coupler. Knowing how these things went, even if she eventually bought a production model it wouldn’t come close to this.

She let a few more of them come for her, but didn’t just hole up in the storeroom expecting to win using that position. They were on the defensive here, and could just call in more reinforcements from above. Time was key. And so, Krahe formed a monstrously powerful burster with a long fuse, having Barzai carry it near the doorway. Meanwhile, she crossed the storeroom, stepping over a mangled corpse and a whimpering soon-to-be corse on her way to a solid wall. This particular spot was perfect, as when she skimmed to the other side, she ended up covered on two sides.

What she couldn’t have perfectly foreseen was that the two Stillborns were still sniffing around the blocked off door, as if even their own allies didn’t want to interact with them. The one that lacked visible eyes emitted a loud click, then whipped around to face Krahe.

And so, she was forced into a melee with this monstrous thing, and Sector 7 Style’s close-quarters methodology kicked in once more. That is to say, Krahe tackled the creature, shoved her left fist into its chest, and blasted its Ward generator apart with two shots. Once it was on the ground, a downward punch with her right hand half-severed its weapon-arm, leaving the joint ruined and black veins whipping about, gushing oily hemolymph.

The next abomination was already upon her before the first died, and so she rose up, stomping on the first one’s neck as she threw the second like it was a ragdoll. While far heavier than its frame would suggest, the thing was still skeletal, and the Left Arm was already strong enough to lift a hundred kilos without issue. With the Viridaimon Armor’s extra strength and weight, this feral borg-zombie was more dangerous at range than up close… And she had just given it that range. That was a problem; it started firing on her before it even landed, its sonic weapon pounding her armor like a jackhammer. Thankfully, the problem was easily solved with a prolonged burst of Tracers, shattering the bioweapon’s wards, tearing off its arm, and continuing through the hole into its chest cavity thanks to Krahe circling the thing. True, this exposed her to direct fire from the actual people, but she just pulled her arm upwards a bit and tossed her smoke grenade.