This Gun is Now Mine
The Cadavers were getting shredded mercilessly. Arms, legs, hearts, organs—anything that could burst did, exploding in a gory mess.
The 1st Platoon was clearly more fired up than usual. And if I had to pick the most excited Executor among them, it'd hands-down be Lira.
Looks like all that muscle training—massacring sandbags for days—had paid off.
Honestly, I'd always thought Executors doing muscle workouts was pointless. But watching Cadavers burst apart like that under her onslaught? Yeah, it's changing my mind a bit.
Who the hell pissed off that pit bull terrier? Wait, more importantly—is it even legal for a human to be that strong?
Physical prowess should have limits. Rounding up, she's barely two meters tall, yet she's pulverizing Cadavers averaging three meters long like they're nothing.
And it's not just Lira. Carlos and Nova were right there beside her.
Moderately strong ones dropped dead on impact from White Crystal Bullets. Hordes charging in got obliterated by Quorbit barrages, swept away without a trace.
If anything, Nova's power seemed even more devastating than Lira's.
I shook my head side to side.
This wasn't a party. A real party needs balance in strength. Right now, Cadavers kept pouring from underground, keeping things somewhat even, but they'd stop popping up eventually. It was only a matter of time.
Can't let this drag on. Gotta do something.
I needed to locate every last Linker hiding out there, from farther away.
For that, ultra-low frequency signals. Low frequency meant simpler info, but it could reach ridiculously far.
The words I sent: Assemble and Feast.
-Zzzt.
Electricity crackled through my tangled tentacles. The ultra-long wavelength spread everywhere.
It was my signal, but not straight from my body, so it gave me a prickly tingle. Kinda creepy, like goosebumps?
The 1st Platoon hesitated too—guess they felt it.
"Same as before. Signal interference."
The detector beeped warnings. It could only parse signals in preset ways, so it got confused.
Machines gonna machine.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling. My friends."
Nova-chan, golden answer as always!
"Process faster."
The 1st Platoon amped up even more.
Lira crammed shockwaves into her Sky Piercers, bursting three Cadavers at a time. Four Quorbs flared brilliant blue. Endless Cadaver waves melted without even ashes left.
Then White Crystal Bullets came flying at me.
What the—? Feeling cocky, are we? Why poke the chill one?
I wasn't planning to join the party, but if the hosts want enthusiastic vibes, who am I to say no?
I raised my hand. Matched Carlos's Finisher shot with my own Blood Death Cannon.
The colliding rounds sparked massive steam clouds on impact.
Guns kill, sure—but sometimes they celebrate. Fireworks, right?
This felt just like that. We blasted away wildly, but it was all flashy explosions stealing the show.
No harm done. Big booms. Eyes drawn naturally. Perfect—total fireworks.
So, celebrating each other?
No holding back, then.
It was like cute kittens grooming one another.
While I fired Blood Death Cannons nonstop, thick steam blanketed everything.
Huh? When did it get this foggy? Thick enough to call it mist.
White Crystal Bullets pierced through.
Thought fog would change things? Visibility or not, tracking bullets is easy.
By sound. By prediction, blasting anywhere. Or react on sight—no sweat. I'm strong now!
-Pew.
Blood Death Cannon fires via pure pressure from my fingertips—super quiet. And it curves to my will anytime.
My shots split into branches.
Every incoming White Crystal Bullet got shot down amid the steam.
More steam billowed. I could blast it away in a snap, but there had to be a reason for all this vision-blocking.
Party hosts gotta honor player intent.
Snooping like a detective on a surprise party? Rude. Socially inept, even.
I'm a lab-raised beauty with twenty years under my belt, but my social skills are top-notch. I'm a beauty—beauties can't have social gaps. People flock anyway.
Right now, countless Cadaver pals heeded my call, and Executors itching to befriend them stood before me.
So, gonna spill the plan yet? I've waited plenty.
Battle noises raged beyond the steam, but bullets stopped eventually.
Whoosh. Steam cleared big-time.
What? Super ultra-mega White Crystal Bullet or something?
I squinted ahead.
Shockingly, cutting through was Carlos himself.
His hand all ghostly white-frozen? Nearly thought it was ice magic. World-building mix-up almost.
Trickster Executor deserves a noogie.
"Playing?"
"This isn't a game."
"Playtime!"
"This time, I'll catch you."
His pale hand reached out. Like last time, getting grabbed screamed danger.
I yanked tentacles to block.
Each touching his frozen hand iced over and shattered instantly.
My fragile tentacles shredded endlessly, just like those Cadavers.
"Let me grab you once. I'll show you hell."
"Let's play~"
Shouldn't it be heaven? Who'd volunteer for hell?
More tentacles—uncountable, big and small, dozens branching wildly at Carlos.
But none touched him.
Like tentacles were no big deal, he swung his hand casually. Not sloppy—clean, elegant, sweeping wide.
That simple move erased them. Frost from his hand froze untouched tentacles solid white.
Leagues above Lira. Our not-so-cute pit bull struggled with four.
Good news: Carlos lacks Lira's regen.
Now I know for sure. Stab Lira silly—she won't die unless I smash her brain instantly.
But Carlos? Poke him enough, he drops! Cadavers die that way too—biology gonna bio.
Lira's regen is the freakish part. Normal folks need overload-tier for that. Though they regrow smashed brains! Slight difference.
Carlos grimaced. My dodging made this intense dance unsatisfying, huh?
Hmm. Perfect timing, maybe. Time to apply what he taught me—right here, right now!
I shifted my retreating center forward.
Distance to Carlos vanished in a blink. My skin—fake blood-made—still tingled.
Fist rocketed in. Training-ground me couldn't dodge. But now? Reversed size gap.
That "fast" fist crawled—yawn-worthy slow.
I tilted my head aside.
-Crack.
"Cold!"
Dodged clean—why freeze? Up close, he can chill without touching, apparently.
Makes sense. Don't need to touch fire to burn—proximity roasts you.
Still.
Frostbite this mild? Zero damage.
I seized his non-white, skin-visible arm.
Carlos's eyes widened.
Yeah—told him non-touch freezes work, but full grab? Off-script.
Arm's white just max power focus—not like other spots can't blast.
Less "shocked," more "Crazy bitch?"
True—my tentacles and fake hand froze white on contact.
"I'll kill you like this."
Body stiffened; couldn't dodge his White Crystal fist. Ate it dead-center.
Hit spot froze; fake-mouth leaked fake-blood.
"Ow~ Hurts~"
First real pain, maybe? Like a corner bruise.
Gotta return the favor.
My turn—counterpunch classic.
Hit someone? Brace to get hit.
"Ngh...!"
We repelled each other with fists.
Shock flung us apart.
Carlos crouched low, recentering. Too bad—no tumbling tumbleweed.
He should roll hard. Easier for me.
My body wobbled from frost. Frozen bits lost control, shape crumbling. Precious fake-flesh dripped.
But.
Mission accomplished.
I gathered blood, force-infusing the dripping bits.
Broken form snapped back perfect. I thrust both hands up, flaunting the swiped Finisher.
"Mine...!"
This Finisher was mine now. Mine to wield.