Chapter 7: Blood, Tears and Oil
Back to the AX-1 "Butcher" Heavy Frame.
Where a human would have hands, the machine featured two massive, high-frequency thermal axes. The blades hummed with a low, bone-shaking vibration, the edges glowing a lethal, molten orange. Steam hissed from the mecha's coolant vents as it stepped forward, the ground groaning under its multi-ton weight.
"I am Captain Ripper, commander of the governor's private forces," a voice boomed from the machine's external vox-grill, distorted and cold. "You've made a grave mistake child, you should have stayed out of this, now I have to kill you"
"Aren't you going to try to fight for the freedom of your people from the tyrant behind you?" I just have to know how these people feel about all this.
"Listen child, , In this colony, the governor is the judge and jury, while these axes are the executioners, and none has ever escaped from their wrath before."
I adjusted my red scarf, my eyes narrowing into a sharp, predatory focus. "Executioner? You look like an oversized can opener to me." I glanced over at Zoran, who was already low to the ground, her fingers twitching. "Can you handle the small fry, First Mate?"
Zoran let out a dry, hacking laugh. "I wanted the big one but you know what I let you have him this time Don't get in my way, Captain."
"Do it!" Ripper roared.
The crescent of soldiers fired. A wall of kinetic pulses, lasers, and projectiles lit up the courtyard.
I took in a large volume of air, forcing my body to stretch large enough to cover Zoran, the lasers and pulses just felt like small stings, the projectiles on the other hand were deflected back to their owners.
"I did not expect that," Zoran commented.
"Just go get the small fry" I shooed.
Taking a combat stance a deep half-crouch position with my knees bent, ensuring a stable and explosive lower body.
For my upper body I extend my right arm forward with a half-clenched fist facing my own body, while my left arm is bent at the side with an open palm.
The air around me shimmering from the heat of the "Butcher's" thermal axes. As the mecha lunged, the encounter shifted from a simple
brawl into a masterclass of kinetic violence.
Instead of retreating, I use my explosive lower body to lunge forward and slightly offline (45 degrees) toward the mecha's leading leg. By moving inside its reach, I enter a "dead zone" where its long-range thermal axes cannot easily maneuver to hit me.
The machine is a heavy, high-center-of-gravity machine. When it lunges, its mass becomes its enemy. Because I move 45 degrees offline, its primary thermal axes—designed for frontal sweeping—overshoot my position. I even hear the whine of high-torque actuators as the machine tries to arrest its forward slide, but the weight of its 12-foot frame makes a sudden stop impossible.
From my low position, the mecha's knees and ankles are my primary targets. Using my leading right arm (half-clenched fist) to deliver a high-impact strike to the side of its knee joint.
As my half-clenched fist strikes the side of the knee, the mecha's internal "muscle-reflex" systems engage.
l feel the leg armor vibrate as the machine's gyros fight to keep it upright. The knee joint vents steam as the internal compensators struggle against my unexpected kinetic impact.
The pilot eradicately tries to swat me with his axes
to clear me from its lower chassis, to which I just avoid with a series of back flips, making space with the two of us once again.
"You've been playing with toys, Ripper," I muttered, my voice cold and devoid of its earlier cheer. "Let me show you what a life of surviving Gramps training looks like."
The AX-1 swung a horizontal arc with its right thermal axe, the molten blade screaming through the air. I didn't just dodge; I flew, relying on pure, explosive muscle fiber. I vanished, reappearing mid-air, inches above the glowing blade.
I planted my palms on the flat side of the swinging axe. Using my elasticity to absorb the momentum, I swung my entire body around the weapon like a gymnast on a high bar. My legs snapped out in a rapid-fire succession of kicks, targeting the mecha's optical sensors and neck joints.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
The "Butcher" staggered back, its sensors sparking. Ripper roared, activating the machine's thrusters to gain distance, but I was already preparing for my next attack. I landed on the ground, my right arm rotating at a speed that blurred it from untrained eyes.
"Spiraling cannon!"
I used the momentum gained from spinning my arm to launch it forward, stretching longer than a normal arm. Instead of a simple punch, it had enough force to put a large dent on the mecha's chest plate. My fist didn't just dent it, the composite plating soon shattered into a thousand black shards, exposing the delicate wiring beneath.
"Impossible! A human can't output that much DPS!, just who are you" Ripper screamed over the vox.
"I am Monkey D Luffy, the one who will put an end to the search of the one piece, and you Ripper are in my so, get ready to die" I retorted. I slid under a desperate downward strike from the left axe, my body bending at an impossible 90-degree angle at the waist. As I did, I grabbed the mecha's ankle.
"Anchor Sweep."
I expanded the mass of my arm for a split second, gaining the weight of a ton of solid rubber, and yanked as I returned my waist to its normal orientation adding the elasticity to the force of the tank.
The multi-ton mecha was flipped into the air like a discarded tin can.
Before it could hit the ground, I was above it. I brought my hands together, coiling my entire torso into a tight, pressurized spring.
My eyes flared with a terrifying light. "SPIRAL CRATER!"
I descended like a falling star. Both heels slammed into the center of the airborne mecha. The elasticity of my legs acted as a secondary piston, firing a second, deeper shockwave through the machine an instant after the initial impact.
The AX-1 "Butcher" didn't just hit the courtyard floor; it cratered it. A massive shockwave of red dust and debris exploded outward, reaching the walls of the compound. The machine lay in a heap of mangled metal and leaking coolant, the "executioner" axes shattered and cold.
I landed softly on top of the wreckage, my red scarf settling over my shoulders, softly flowing in the wind, I hadn't broken a sweat.
I looked down at the flickering cockpit light and adjusted my gloves.
"Next time," I said, my voice in a mocking tone, my smile even more mocking. "bring a bigger can opener."
Zoran's POV
Keeping my eyes on my target, I ran up to him keeping a lie center of gravity, taking a leap. I gave him a double kick to the base of his temple, such that his helmet couldn't help him as he slipped into unconsciousness, which then freed his weapons.
The cold feel of the hilts felt like an extension of my soul, an icy contrast to the boiling rage in my gut.
'These bastards, it's their fault that Rainer had to suffer for so long' while I couldn't see them I knew my eyes were bloodshot.
"Tear them apart men, your lord demands it!" another one of the fat pigs shrieked from above in the balcony, when l looked up and saw the man child my anger grew beyond recognition.
And for the so-called men before me, I didn't wait for them to find their courage, I had to strike now before they could organize. I became a hurricane of jade and steel.
[Big sis, they're closing in on the left!] Reina's voice was a rhythmic pulse in my skull, her situational awareness blending with my instinct.
'I see them Reina, thanks for the help.' Isn't she just the sweetest.
I lunged. My first step cracked the reinforced steel of the courtyard.
The first rank of enforcers tried to form a shield wall. I didn't go around. I went right through. I spun into a low-profile gale, my blades screaming as they met the composite shields.
"Jade style First Form: Dust Whirlwind!"
My sheer physical torque created a localized vacuum. The vacuum didn't just pull them in; it stripped the armor right off their chests, along with their skin and bones.
My blades followed—six slashes in the span of a single heartbeat. One guard's arm spun into the air; another's helmet was cleaved perfectly in two, the man inside falling before he could even register the chill of death.
I didn't stop. I was a shark in a tank of feeder fish.
A sergeant fired a high-output plasma rifle point-blank. I didn't dodge. I parried the bolt with the flat of my blade, the sheer force of my swing reflecting the burning energy back into his face. As he went down, I stepped on his head to vault myself higher, spinning mid-air like a lethal top.
"Second Form : Rising Dust Storm!"
I descended into the thickest part of the platoon. My blades became a blur of vertical arcs, carving through flesh and bone with a sickening, rhythmic thwack-slice. I wasn't just killing; I was painting. Every swing was a wide, jagged stroke of crimson. I felt the hot spray of blood coat my face, and for the first time in three days, I felt alive.
'ahhh!, I think I just had an orgasm' I let out a guttural, terrifying laugh that made the nearest soldiers freeze in primal terror. My eyes were wide, the pupils blown out with combat euphoria.
"Is that all?" I roared, my voice a jagged edge. "I've had more fun fighting training dummies!"
I grabbed a guard by his tactical vest, pulled him into my personal space, and ran him through with both blades while simultaneously using his body as a meat-shield against a volley of stun-rounds. When the rounds stopped, I kicked the corpse into the crowd, the impact breaking the ribs of three more men.
[Sis, you're losing yourself, again] Reina whispered, though I could feel her own excitement humming.
'I'm just having so much fun, Reina.' I spoke to her still lost in my high.
[But sis, we're so close to getting a friend, and if you fail because you scared him away, I will never forgive you] Okay, her threat, put a damper on my high.
'Fine I'll try to keep it clean'
[Thank you].
I stood in the center of a literal ring of bodies. Thirty men down in under a minute. The rest of the 200 were backing away, their hands shaking so hard their laser sights were dancing on the walls.
I licked a drop of blood from my lip and turned my gaze toward the Governor's balcony. The man child turned pale and stumbled backward, tripping over his own expensive shoes, for he knew I was coming for him next.
"Who's next?" I snarled, the twin katanas dripping red onto the thirsty sand. "I've still got plenty of room on my blades."
I sensed the shockwave from Luffy's final strike against the mecha. I looked over, seeing the 'Butcher' crumpled like tinfoil.
'Hmph. Looks like the Captain isn't a weakling, that's good there's no way I'm going to serve someone weaker than me or a pile of bolts like that. Time to finish the cleanup.'
I pointed my blood-stained steel at the remaining 150 guards. They didn't charge. They broke. They began to flee toward, I don't know where.
Noticing that I was done, the captain finally approached me, with a smile on his face
"Damn, you're brutal, eww I stepped in brain" looking at him comically shaking his leg to clean it was amusing.
"So what now, with what we did here the Army will be on us soon, we have to leave before they lock the ports" I ask as I knew that the Army was already on their way here.
"We don't need to do that, I have a plan to get out of this without bounties on our heads" he responds with the same goofy smile I was now used to.
"THIS IS THE GRAKKAN IMPERIAL ARMY, DROP YOUR WEAPONS, TURN OFF ALL AUGMENTATIONS, AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP, IF YOU FAIL TO CORPORATE YOU WILL BE FIRED UPON." seeing the hovership in the air I just hoped the captain had a plan.