Messing with the Wrong Monster
Oh, man. I picked a fight with the wrong monster.
I stared at the fragment of lead embedded deep in the carriage door. It was only half a bullet. The other half had already sunk into the canal waters below.
Slicing a bullet clean in two with a sword? What kind of bargain-bin wuxia trash is this?
Right up until the instant my finger squeezed the trigger, that woman's massive greatsword had been resting quietly strapped across her back. Her right hand hadn't even been touching the hilt. I was dead certain I'd pulled the trigger before her fingers could ever reach it. Yet she had blocked it anyway.
Back at the facility, I was better than anyone at the drill where we caught flying iron bearings bare-handed. But even with my enhanced reflexes, I hadn't properly caught the moment her blade moved. Ask me to swat a flying bullet out of the air with a sword, and I'd shake my head in disbelief. Tracking a bullet's trajectory with your eyes was one thing; moving a slab of iron as tall as a grown man right into that flight path with pinpoint precision belonged to a completely different dimension of existence.
Four rounds remained in the cylinder of my Sermaize Revolver.
Ranged combat was a dead end. If she could deflect bullets with cold steel, putting distance between us would only grant her the time and angle she needed to carve me into pieces. That left only one viable solution: drag her into an ultra-close, down-and-dirty dogfight where that colossal greatsword couldn't be swung freely.
Clack!
Cock the hammer with my thumb, surge forward in a dead sprint. The muzzle snapped straight toward Irina's left shoulder.
Bang—!
The instant the barrel spat flame, Irina twisted her upper body with fluid grace. The round sheared away several strands of her pitch-black hair before puncturing the carriage wall behind her. Fighting the upward kick of the recoil, I cocked the hammer back again without missing a beat.
Clack, bang—!
This one went straight for dead center of her chest.
Clang!
A silvery arc surged up from below, the sword carving a tight trajectory through the air driven solely by the snap of her wrist. Deflected in a bright burst of orange sparks, the slug smashed hard into an iron railing post along the canal. But I didn't stop.
Eight paces separated us when I fired the first shot. Now there were barely three.
I cut in on a low diagonal, aiming the third shot at Irina's right flank to seal off her retreat and tear through her torso. The moment the hammer reached full draw, the soles of her boots pushed off the damp floorboards.
Bang—!
Rather than retreating, Irina dropped her stance razor-low and dove forward at an acute angle. The slug shredded the right hem of her ink-black overcoat. Scraps of dark navy lining and black fabric fluttered into the air, but her stride didn't hitch for an instant.
Distance: one single step.
Pulling the hammer back for the fourth and final shot, I jammed the muzzle almost flush against her abdomen. Her greatsword was pulled wide to her right side; to pull that massive length of steel back into the pocket between our chests, she would have to roll her shoulder backward. That split-second opening was all I needed.
Bang—!
Irina didn't pull back. Instead, she leaned into my chest, pivoting her hips half a turn. Amidst a deafening gunshot that threatened to rupture my eardrums, the slug skimmed grazing inches past her waistline before pulverizing the warehouse brickwork behind me.
We were close enough that our chests nearly brushed. There was no space to swing a greatsword, and my gun was empty.
Are you serious with these dodges?
I ditched the revolver. Pointing an empty gun in the face of a woman who could dodge point-blank fire was useless. My only play was to latch on and overpower her. Freeing both hands, I threw myself forward.
Irina attempted to raise the broad flat of her blade to form a barrier, but my left hand beat her to it, clamping hard over the right hand wrapped beneath the greatsword's crossguard.
Crack!
Gripping with every ounce of augmented strength, I felt the sickening crunch of knuckle joints grinding under her leather glove. Wrenching her wrist downward, I drove my right shoulder like a battering ram straight into her chest.
Thud—!
Irina's back smashed violently against the carriage door. The entire frame groaned in a metallic shriek, tipping sharply to one side.
Any normal grown man would have had his shoulder dislocated or half a dozen ribs caved in by that kind of impact, dropping unconscious on the spot. But Irina didn't waste her strength trying to wrench her pinned arm back. Instead, she drove her trapped wrist deeper toward my body, folding her elbow tight against the outside of my forearm while hooking her left foot cleanly behind my right heel.
The forward momentum of my charge was redirected sideways. Before I could process it, Irina, who had just been pinned against the carriage, was standing clear outside my guard.
"Huh?"
I slammed my right foot down onto the boards to arrest my stumble. The timber splintered beneath the sole of my boot with a sharp crunch. Irina's cool gray eyes flicked briefly down toward the cracked planks under my feet before returning to meet my gaze.
Refusing to let go of her wrist, I threw a vicious right hook toward her temple.
Whoosh!
The punch whistled past the tip of her chin. Just as I thought it had landed, the pommel of her greatsword caught my inner elbow. With a subtle flick of her wrist, she leveraged my entire arm outward, sending the strike skittering off into empty air.
The instant my trajectory collapsed, her knee drove upward toward my ribs like a spear.
Thwack!
I dropped my left forearm just in time to shield my side. The heavy shock rattled through my arm bones and hammered my rib cage, but I could still move the limb. Had she put her full body weight into that strike, it would have turned my internal organs to jelly. She was holding back.
So you're toying with me, huh?
My temper flared hot. Letting go of her wrist, I wrapped both arms completely around her waist.
"Hup!"
Channeling the full output of my thighs and spine in a single burst, I hoisted her clean off the floorboards. She stood a full head taller than me, but with the lean frame typical of elves, her actual weight was deceptively light.
Just as I braced to slam her spine-first into the wooden planks, Irina's left palm planted firmly against my shoulder. I braced for her to push back, but she did the exact opposite. Rather than fighting my brute force, she rode the upward momentum I gave her, kicking off the carriage door with one boot to launch herself higher into the air. The hems of her ink-black coat and her waist-length black hair billowed above my head like great midnight wings.
Tumbling through the air in a clean forward roll, she vaulted smoothly over my shoulders. She touched down onto the planks behind me light as a feather, slipping effortlessly out of my grasp.
I spun on my heel a full one hundred and eighty degrees, swinging my right fist in a sweeping backhand.
This time, she caught my wrist. The broad spine of her sword wedged into the crook of my elbow, folding my arm back against my chest. The moment I tried to flex against it, sharp pain flared through the joint. Where the hell did she even learn joint locks like this?
Irina sank her hips, attempting to drag me down to the deck. Beating her through technique was out of the question. That left only one thing: raw, illiterate, thuggish muscle.
"Get off me—!"
I forced my folded right arm upward against the lock. The muscle fibers of an enhanced body capable of deadlifting seven hundred and forty kilograms detonated, heaving the greatsword pinning my elbow and Irina's entire upper torso clean into the air.
For the very first time, her languid gray eyes flared wide in sheer shock.
Before she could break her grip on my wrist, my left hand snagged the belt of her overcoat. Throwing my entire body's rotational torque behind the motion, I hurled her bodily toward the canal side of the deck.
Flung airborne, Irina released the heavy greatsword without a shred of hesitation. The massive hunk of iron crashed onto the deck first.
Clang!
Unburdened, she rolled across her shoulders and back in a textbook breakfall, smoothly dissipating the terrifying momentum I'd imparted as she skidded along the planks, before popping right back up onto one knee.
I surged after her without offering a breath of space. The dropped greatsword lay behind her, but I cut between her and the weapon first.
Irina didn't so much as glance at the blade behind her. She raised both hands chest-high, palms canted at an angle in a flawless unarmed stance.
I brought my right fist down like an axe.
Irina slipped her torso to the left, letting the punch brush empty air. The moment the fist overextended, I snapped my elbow tight, whipping the back of my fist toward her temple.
Smack!
Her leather-clad right forearm shot up just in time to intercept it. A dull, heavy crack of colliding bones rang out, and Irina's boots screeched against the deck as she was shoved sideways. She hadn't managed to absorb all the kinetic force.
Smelling blood, I drove a left punch straight for her midsection.
Irina brought her outer palm flush against the side of my incoming fist, spinning her torso with the blow. As my punch grazed past her ribs, she latched onto my wrist, pulling me forward into empty space.
Riding the pull, I stepped deeper into the pocket. Planting my left foot hard to anchor myself, I drove my elbow toward the back of her skull.
Irina ducked low. The elbow whistled through her raven hair, smashing full force into the iron pillar beside the carriage.
BAM—!
The thick steel plate caved inward the size of a fist. Pain vibrated up the bone of my elbow, but nothing broke. Exposed right before me was the vulnerable nape of Irina's ducked neck.
Just as I raised the edge of my hand to chop into her carotid artery, her shoulder bumped lightly against my chest, attempting to wedge space between us. To keep from being separated, I grabbed both lapels of her overcoat with both hands.
"Got you!"
Yanking her hard toward me, I lined up a vicious headbutt straight into her face. A street brawler's classic—the very trick that used to put rowdy drunks down in one shot back in my past life.
Irina snapped her head aside with lightning speed. Instead of shattering the bridge of her nose, my forehead clipped the side of her temple above the ear. Through the silky black strands, I felt the distinct, firm ridge of a long, pointed elven ear being crushed beneath the blow.
Then—
Thwack.
The heel of her boot kicked out, catching the back of my right knee. A violent cramp seized the locked muscle.
…Wait, what?
In an instant, all the tension holding up my stance vanished like water draining from a tub.
Thud.
My right knee crashed into the wood. Burning through max output across several consecutive exchanges had pushed the muscle fibers of my thighs into rigid lockup. Try as I might, my leg refused to straighten.
Output limit reached.
Yet my fingers remained stubbornly clamped into the fabric of her coat. Dropped on one knee, I ground my teeth and pulled her down with me, ready to tear out her throat with my teeth if that was what it took.
Irina didn't bother trying to peel my death grip off her lapels. Instead, she stepped half a pace deeper into my space, and with her free right hand, she tapped the underside of my chin with the heel of her palm.
Tock.
The impact wasn't loud. But my brain sloshed violently against the inside of my skull, and my vision flipped straight toward the sky.
"…Ah."
The strength seeped out of my fingers. As my torso collapsed forward toward the planks, a slender, firm arm hooked under my shoulder, catching me just before my face struck the floor.
…I'm so screwed.
With that pathetic final thought, my consciousness plunged into absolute dark.
"…Mmh."
When my senses gradually flickered back to life, the texture resting against my cheek wasn't cold timber. It was cool, soft, high-grade wool infused with a faint scent of soap and herbal medicine.
It was the ink-black overcoat Irina had shed, folded neatly beneath my head like a pillow.
My jaw throbbed with a dull ache. Only after running my tongue along my teeth to confirm they were all intact did I let out a long exhale.
From down the alleyway came the hurried clatter of combat boots. Five or six people. The frantic sound of rifles being racked echoed off the brick walls as they spread out at the mouth of the street.
"Halt right there! Hands where I can see them!"
The coarse bellow belonged to a reinforcement squad from the Central Branch Security Section.
"Lower your weapons and identify yourselves first."
Irina's voice rang clear. Smooth, icy, and poised without a single ragged breath, it held the authority of frozen steel.
She held up an identification badge. The operative in the lead squinted at the seal, and the muzzle of his carbine immediately dropped toward the ground.
"…S-Section Chief from the Headquarters Security Bureau?"
The agents' voices dropped an entire octave into nervous subservience.
"I have already given you one warning. Lower your weapons."
The remaining operatives glanced at their leader and followed suit. One of them fidgeted awkwardly with his armband.
"Tend to the three men down on the ground, then have them placed on standby after treatment," Irina ordered smoothly. "Mister Martin Hess and this child are under the direct protective custody of the Headquarters Security Bureau."
"B-but, Section Chief! Martin Hess is a wanted fugitive under an emergency warrant issued by our Central Branch for embezzlement of company—"
"I am fully aware. Are you questioning my authority to command?"
At Irina's frigid rejoinder, the agent swallowed hard and bit his tongue.
"…No, Section Chief."
"I will notify the Central Branch through an official directive myself. Clear a path for the carriage."
"Understood, ma'am!"
The hurried footsteps of the operatives retreated down the canal path. The massive greatsword resting on the boards slid into the scabbard on her back with a clean, ringing hiss.
Irina stepped toward me and sank down onto one knee. Sliding her slender arms under my shoulders and behind my knees, she lifted me up into a cradle.
My body floated into the air. Nearby, the carriage door creaked open.
I had to get back to Boss Orban. I needed to collect the rest of my silver coins, and I had to reclaim my bed.
I parted my lips to speak, but the lingering paralysis in my jaw yielded nothing more than a pathetic, slurred mumble.
"Ngh… uh…"
Irina laid me gently down onto the plush cushioned seat inside the carriage, her voice dropping to a quiet whisper.
"Rest quietly for a moment. I won't hurt you."
Thump.
The carriage door shut tight, and the world went dark once more.