Gluttony Splitter (3)
-Kraaaaaah!! A delightful scream echoes out. The sound of a mutant turning into a good mutant.
The already red Gluttony Splitter turns a deeper crimson as its entire body gets shredded. Watching it, I feel a twinge of confusion.
'This fucker, why's he overreacting so much?'
Of course, getting hacked to pieces all over can't feel good. The bastard isn't Guan Yu or anything. But thinking it over, something feels off. Its name is Gluttony Splitter. Splitter. Doesn't that immediately bring certain words to mind?
'Slime, the guy who splits when chopped, black semen...'
What's their common trait? Simple. They all have high immunity to slashing attacks.
'These things split even if you leave 'em alone. They have to be immune to slashes. So it should have great matchup against Hope too...'
What the hell? Instead, it's thrashing around like a Rammus with True Damage embedded all over?
I'd honestly prepared for it pretending to scream while getting hit, then sneaking up on me from behind for a backstab...
'No matter how you look at it, that's not acting like it hurts.'
If it was acting, that'd be impressive in its own right. Polite enough that I'd have to play along. Which means Hope's attacks have something special going on.
"Damn it!! I believed in you!!"
I don't know exactly what dealt the fatal blow. But just because I don't know doesn't mean I won't use it. If the damage is landing hard, swing first and ask questions later!
"Hope, beat the shit out of it!!"
Kroooooh!!
Emboldened, Hope and I merge as one, slicing and dicing the Gluttony Splitter to ribbons. It's a movement straight out of the Sword Saint Unity realm.
Dodging acidic solutions raining from above, shredding the devouring tentacles surging from the ground, tanking the occasional overcharged nuclear fusion punch, we meticulously stab the blade into its massive body, one careful thrust at a time.
Even as the Gluttony Splitter pulls out new patterns we'd never seen from its bag of tricks, they don't really block our path.
If anything, if that's its desperation move, it's more of a good sign.
After ten-odd minutes of unleashing reckless sword strikes like madmen—
-Keaaaaaaaah!!
The Gluttony Splitter lets out a boiling scream. Grooooom!!
It's screamed bloody murder the whole time, ear-piercing stuff, but this one's on another level. Pure, soul-deep agony.
Its body, which kept pulling out chunks of flesh no matter how much we sliced, convulses wildly.
"Hope, incoming."
Thud thud thud— The ground shakes like an earthquake underfoot.
I brace for the worst possibilities in my head. Including the chance it's already covered the underground in its creep.
Next up. Cracks spiderweb across the nearby floor, and waves of flesh erupt like geysers.
"Fuck, I accounted for this but didn't want it to happen."
A colossal wave of flesh floods my vision like a tsunami. Cursing, I grip Hope tighter.
The Hope-exclusive swordsmanship I created—Hope Road—has only its first form, Blood Branch Dance.
And Blood Branch Dance multiplies Hope's blade dozens, hundreds of times to swing against multiple foes. Great for crowds, but useless against a wall of enemies crashing in like this.
So I need a new form. But if it were easy, would I have suffered like that in the Bi-Wu Field?
"Hold on!! Brace your core!!!"
Just survive this crisis. I can feel it. No matter how endlessly it splits and pulls new patterns like a magic pouch, it can't spam this one.
No evidence, but my gut says so.
I pour inner energy into Hope's blade and unleash a slash at the oncoming flesh tsunami.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-gagak!!!
A savage sword strike. The slash, infused with massive inner energy, pours toward the wave.
Of course, facing a natural disaster with one sword isn't normal. The unsliced flesh wave crashes over me.
"Guh... Ptui...!"
An overwhelming barrage of physical force. Like being tossed into the ocean.
Pshooooosh—! Then a chilling sound rings out.
If that were a tentacle, it'd rip my side open and spill my guts. But Whiiiing!! Hope's sword cry announces our clever boy as the star.
'Hope!! You handle it!!'
While its master flails senseless in the flesh tide, it finds a path like a life preserver.
A sword does this much, its owner can't just zone out.
"Kerghkghblegh!!!"
Flesh floods my mouth, but I grit through with a shout, exploding my inner energy.
Jung Kkeokma Emergency Escape!!
I surge upward with all my might, bursting out of the tsunami.
"Haaah... Th-thought I was dead..."
Just for a moment, swept in the red wave—my eyes spin, limbs tremble. But I endured. I survived!
I quickly track the bastard's presence, focusing my mind. Where is it? Where'd it hide?
In the red tsunami soaking the floor, its next attack is surely lurking. Come at me!
Even staggering, I grip Hope tight in counter-stance.
...
"...Why isn't it coming?"
What the fuck?
At one minute, my nerves are taut. At five, they're about to snap. At ten, they don't snap—they just stretch out forever.
"Hold up. No way, right?"
I expand my senses max. Stab around with Hope just in case.
In the sticky flesh mire turned total mud.
One fact hits me.
"This fucker pulled a piss-run?"
The mid-boss fled.
Looks like I'd been deluded all along.
"When did I start thinking mid-bosses don't run?"
Yeah, bosses can bail too. Baron could leave its pit for a canyon V-log trip. Hog could crash at the primordial village.
Thinking about it, Shanks is chilling in the weakest sea, East Blue, just drinking... fuck.
"Running's embarrassing but helpful, huh..."
I feel like an idiot for waiting, thinking something big was coming.
Whiiiing—! Hope, tense with me, growls its sword cry in rage.
"Yeah, Hope. You pissed too?"
Whiiing whiiiing—!
"Me too. That cowardly bastard. Mid-boss runs away? This cheating fuck. This filthy fuck. This gutless fuck."
Whiiiiiing!!!!
"This Shanks-ass bitch. Mihawk chased Crick across the Grand Line to East Blue. A Yonko squats in the weakest sea? That's why Mihawk's below Shanks in the—Argh!! H-Hope?!"
Whiiiiiing whiiiing!!
In its blind rage, super-pissed Hope extends its blade and chomp! on my hand.
I mean chomp!—at Hope's level, it's a kyaaaah!.
Luckily no injury, but I thought my wrist was gone.
"Hope, what the hell?! ...No way, Hope... you're a Shanks-over-Mihawk stan?!"
You don't think Enel counts as admiral-tier, right?
Betrayed, glaring at Hope—whiiing!! It points somewhere impatiently.
Hope's tip aims at the tunnel where the Gluttony Splitter vanished. If I weren't holding it, it'd dive right in.
That pose is just like—
"...Hold up. Hope, can you track where it went?"
Whiiing whiiing!!
Hope's blade bobs up and down unevenly. Like, "Finally get it?"
I won't ask how. Vampire demon swords come with life-tracking, right?
"Alright, let's go."
Like chasing Crick who fled beyond the Grand Line.
Off we dash after the vanished Gluttony Splitter.
Maybe tasting blood once, Hope points one direction without hesitation. Right now, it's full W Warwick.
"Keaaaaak!!"
"Kyaaaak!!"
Occasional mutants block the path cluelessly, but shra-la-rak—! They all become one-bite snacks for Hope.
"Hope! Eating on the run'll give you indigestion!"
Whiiing!
"What? You're fine?"
Whiiing whiiing!!
"Hope, you little...!"
A mukbang prodigy. Wrong era, or it'd be a million-sub YouTuber.
Deep regret washes over me, but before I can dwell, Hope gobbles approaching mutants greedily.
Life's unpredictable. Type-1 mutants that once had me flattening against walls on sight? Now they crumble to a single touch, worthless fodder.
Feeling the generational shift, suddenly—a sharp premonition hits.
'Hold up.'
Screeech—!
Jung Kkeokma Emergency Stop!!
I halt my hurried steps.
Whiiiing whiiiing Hope whines why the stop, but—
"Hope, this really the way?"
Unease rising, I double-check.
Whiiing— Like, "Why ask the obvious?"
But I have to confirm again.
Because this direction... leads to Monster Flower Village?
The end of this path has the city's echoing nightmare, the Monster Flower. Gut screams we'll run into something unexpected.
My steps halt abruptly.
'Tch, this feels bad.'
Five years surviving this shithole frozen apocalypse—my survival instincts scream. Go further, and you're dead.
"Hope, we've beaten it plenty. Call it here?"
Whiiing!
"You've eaten tons!!"
Whiiiiing!
"Fuck, Hope! Watch your weight!! Slack off young and you'll drop dead old?!"
Like a Jammin kid throwing a fit till I buy pork belly at the mart sample corner, I coax Hope a bit.
As instinct screams to turn back—
-Groooooooooh!!
A monstrous roar echoes from afar.
".....Fuck."
Hope freezes mid-tantrum. It gets it too. Not the time for fits.
... Whiiing?
"Draw?"
I want to too!! But now we gotta move.
Tap tap—
Circulating inner energy, I race toward the roar's source.
Luckily, finding the cause is easy.
Unfortunately, it was too easy. Because—
"Kraaaaaah!!"
"Jesus fucking Christ."
In the village center, the Gluttony Splitter's massive body is being torn apart and devoured by the Monster Flower.
