Eroge? Bad Ends? Betrayal? I’m Just Here to Suplex Monsters through Buildings.

Eroge? Bad Ends? Betrayal? I’m Just Here to Suplex Monsters through Buildings.

…

Neo San Kyoto, 48th Street, at 11PM PST.

The cargo truck turned into the dock, looking like any other. White with patchy paint and some rust on the wheels. Seemingly some shipping companies attempt to keep an asset going well past its prime to make the most of their investment.

Listening to it, though?

The suspension was clean and cushioned so well that the container practically didn’t even shudder.

The engine should’ve had a squeak or rattle, but instead it purred beneath the hood.

The turn into the dockyard past the gate barely made a sound.

“Looks like your info’s good. That’s our vehicle.”

“How’d you know?” I switch operators on the fly. A lot of them were young people who thought knowing some code allowed them to get away with things. Generally, after a month or two, their online handles went completely quiet. Probably found by someone and plucked for some playtime. “Some ninja bullshit?”

“You can say that. Just stop the cameras on my mark.” I already limbered up ahead of time, but just in case I went through some stretches. One leg up to my shoulder. Next, the other leg. With a body like the one I have now, extremes were necessary for anything. Holding either position barely got my blood pumping. “Mark.”

I slammed one leg down onto the roof, sending up dust, and the impact launched me clear across the street over the gate.

The motion-sensing cameras didn’t lock on, so after a three-point roll I was in the clear.

“Holy fuck, you just leapt fifty feet.”

“Keep your eyes on the truck. Are they heading into the port authority building?” I stuck to the shadows, avoided the lines of sight of a handful of cameras, and one security guard who should’ve been on patrol. Instead, he was just in his security booth idly looking at one camera with phone in hand. Didn’t have to deal with him. “Are they there yet?”

“Y-yeah. They are. Can all bounty hunters do that?”

“A lot can do way more. If you’re going to be impressed by that, you need to leave the business.” I gave the kid, who was technically probably older than me, a bit of advice. This world was ruthless, vile, and deprived. Even living a normal life sets you up for heinous shit on the regular. Dipping your toes into the supernatural underbelly? You’d be lucky if they got rid of ‘you’ before they used your body to their ends. “Take the payout and live an honest life.”

“Tch. For someone who got thrown away, you’re talking all high and mighty.”

I knew where this was going and just let myself shrug.

“Do as you like. I’ve said my piece.” I reached the port authority building.

Five stories and resembling an office block. The key difference was that there was a road that led into an underground parking and storage center. Public access records showed it was just for easier access to emergency generators and was a garage for port authority vehicles. The number of trucks that had to haul out excavated earth and stone for the expansion, though? It suggested a space four times larger than official records.

A few drone passes over the area that I paid amateurs to do across several days also told me trucks kept coming in without shipping containers.

More than even that theoretical space could hold.

There was either an illegal teleportation array in there that sent out the shipments, or there was a tunnel that led into a submarine pen in the harbor.

The submarine pen was my bet, since there weren’t any witches or sorceresses snooping around.

“Utility door is opening in three. Two. One.”

The lock to the door next to the underground garage shutter unlatched, and I slipped through.

“That’s all you get from me. I’ve got nothing done there.”

“The remaining half of your payment will arrive in ten seconds. Goodbye.”

“Wait, you already had it set up—

I cut off and turned off all electronics on my person while taking out a spray. The scent was oily, oceanic, and metallic. A mix meant to resemble the scents of the port.

I stuck out my tongue after it settled and took in the scent with both my nose and mutation.

I blended into the garage well, but it wouldn’t last.

With a practiced gesture and a forced quickening of my blood, I then made it flow to my right eye.

My vision in it blurred for a moment, color faded out, and then instead I saw the tunnel in cool blues and reds.

Snakes should see in infrared, not in thermal, but I wasn’t about to question how magic worked.

I went down the tunnel, keeping my footsteps silent, and kept my ears open while avoiding the fluorescent lighting.

It didn’t take long for me to take in a familiar porcine scent.

The pigmen/ork analogues of this world were the stereotypical henchmen. Tough, with light regeneration, and strong to boot. They were slow, but they were armed with guns and worked extremely well together. Not to mention they weren’t like oni, trolls, or larger beasts. They could use human tools, equipment, and knowledge without a fuss, while being tougher and more coordinated on the foundational level.

I differentiated between multiple scents thanks to different foods eaten, hygiene, and more.

Ten in total. Five had guns on them. Another five smelled more of cardboard, wood, and grease and were sweating while moving things that didn’t have any scent at all.

Suspended animation pods.

I just needed to confirm that my target was in one of them, then I could finally do what I wanted.

I stayed in the shadows, observing from afar as the truck’s shipping container was unloaded.

Four were filled with just young people with limbs removed. Toys, extra organs, or whatever else. They were in generic and old suspension tubes with yellow, degraded fluid.

Three had modified individuals.

Two were women with sexual attributes that were engorged, hips widened, and with orifices running pink fluid from external tanks in and out of them. Sex slaves to be used for a few months by some dictator or corporate boss before being handed off to his employees. They’ll eventually end up as seedbeds for monsters to pop out troops for dictators or to generate materials for pharmacological miracles.

One was a young man who was filling out his entire tank. Musclebound and massive and bereft of hair, he also surprisingly had a functional and matching reproductive system. A genetic supersoldier that could reproduce was internationally illegal.

I snapped a picture of the guy as he was carried out before focusing on the last.

Yeah.

The rising star of the Hiyo Clan, Asakura, was suspended in clear, light blue fluid while still garbed in the typical skintight bodysuit used by the clans. It barely hid anything, nearly conforming to her nipples, but usually there were loose robes worn on them. The fact that the suit was still present while all her equipment and robes were gone informed me that she was untouched.

I almost had to wonder as to how they brought her down and captured her, since the bodysuit covered up her mouth, nose, and even ears.

A pair of goggles with anti-hypnosis protection was also common equipment.

Someone of her caliber getting captured by an organization that shuttled around flesh and couldn’t break through her suit?

It stank of betrayal or outside forces working against the Hiyo Clan.

But that wasn’t my problem.

Clan politics didn’t apply to someone cast out.

So, after making sure it was her, I greenlitthe rest of the mission.

I took a step out of the shadows, making sure that step resounded through the underground complex, cracked my knuckles, and addressed my opponents.

“Oi, pigs. I’ll give you three seconds to pick a god and pray.”

Sneaking while gathering information was all well and good, but fighting?

“Three.”

Fighting should be upfront and in person.

“Two.”

The five with guns drew their weapons, and the five working the suspension tubes only had to exchange glances before deciding to bullrush me together.

“One!”

Common sense dictated I go for the ones with guns first, but I tossed a series of smoke pellets that doused them in thick gray smoke and met the charge.

Or, rather, I broke the charge.

With both legs coiled from a crouch, I uncoiled and unleashed a massive amount of gathered tension. Concrete cracked, and I whipped through the air with my arm out and caught the lead of the orcs charging in maintenance jumpers with a flying lariat. I felt bone give and skin stretch as I used his neck to arrest all of my momentum before using momentum to twist around, turning the monster’s head with me, and landing a two-footed kick at the nearest orc.

I sent him flying into the wall, and his skull broke against it.

Then, I took hold of the head I’d twisted with both hands, lifted it, and used a burst of power to plant my feet back on the ground.

I tossed the lead of the charge into two of the others.

Leaving one to roar with a reared-back fist at me.

I coiled backward, falling to my arms, brought my legs up, and launched myself off against the wall with all the muscles in my arms coiling and uncoiling like a snake with my push.

Concrete broke beneath my gloves, and I launched at him like a spear.

Ribs splintered beneath my feet, and I felt three separate ‘pops’ beneath skin and muscle before he flew away towards the now-dissipating smoke.

I threw four knives into him with explosive tags wrapped around their handles before turning to the remaining two clambering up after throwing their dead leader off.

The body I threw into the smoke exploded, just reached the first of the two, grabbed hold of his head, and smashed the back of his skull into concrete. His body twitched from head to toe, while a ‘gurk’ left his lips, but just in case I jammed a knife through his eye and shook it in every cardinal direction.

One melee fighter left… and he was debating on running or fighting.

I made the choice for him, sliding between his legs and grabbing his ankles as I did.

He fell, face first, and I turned while raising both his ankles to my waist.

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed as I swung him around and around twice before tossing him towards one of the gunners.

Once again, I threw explosive kunai into his body as he flew, and when he landed, the explosions took out two of the three remaining orcs.

The last one, shaking and quivering in fear, aimed at me and unloaded.

Most shots went wild as I walked towards him, but practice soon managed to take hold.

He took a deep breath, aimed, and locked onto me from ten paces away.

“I’ll let you take that shot.” I asked him with a grin, while his beady eyes stared me down. Sweat dripped down his brow as he held a modified high-caliber handgun in grubby mitts. I loved doing this. “But I’ll just catch it. How about you fight me hand to hand? You’ll have a better chance if you fight better than those guys.”

I jutted my thumb towards the ones who tried to charge me, while the towering pigman stared down the barrel.

Then, a guttural growl left his lips.

“Bullshit.”

I wasn’t faster than a bullet.

But I was faster than his trigger pull, and I knew where he was aiming.

He was fired.

It went straight and true towards my heart.

My hand was already there.

Reinforced with innate physical energy nonsense, clad in a protective glove tougher than steel, and ready to absorb all the generated shock thanks to a ‘technique.’

Still, catching bullets never gets old.

I made sure to let him see the bullet drop before leaping at him, taking hold of the sides of his head with both hands, and then twisting my whole body.

There was a crack, and he didn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

…

Interlude: Asakura Hiyo, the Fiery Blade

…

I managed to catch myself before hitting the ground as the tank released me.

I was ready to set myself aflame, to end my life in a fiery explosion, and claim my life and those of my captors.

Until I heard a code phrase.

“Firework.”

“Blooming.” I replied and felt myself relax while I clambered to my feet. An underground vehicle drop-off point surrounded me. One that had a number of dead beasts, eight suspension tanks, and one that was filled with blood. “Who are you?”

“Bounty hunter hired by your family. One of several. There’s a whole cordon around the city. A general all-out assault on the underworld as reprisal by your family, too. Here.” I blinked at the source of the voice. It came from a young man. He had shinobi gloves on, but the rest of his clothes were a mix of surplus military converted for our tools and civilian clothes. Black gym shirt and pants, boots, and a vest and belt. He had one serpentine, golden eye and tied back green hair. “Keita. Formerly of the Uwabami Clan.”

He threw a pouch my way, I caught it, and inside were two pills, and a message attached to each was penned by Mother.

Remove the stain on your honor. Destroy the facility you are found in.

It was attached to a warrior pill that would grant me enough strength to fight.

The next message was attached to a white, modern pill.

Consume this if you can no longer bear the pain of living.

My heart trembled at the message. I was her last link to Father, her last child, and my loss would mean the loss of her position and an ignoble end.

Yet, still, she would’ve allowed me to perish if I wished to do so.

I consumed the warrior pill and cast aside the other.

“I am going to destroy this place.” I told the bounty hunter, and he nodded before checking the orcish weapons he gathered. They were high-caliber firearms without trigger guards and extended triggers. Meant for the beasts to use. I supposed that with training he could use them himself. “Do you intend to fight with those?”

I did not see anything besides assassination and sabotage tools on him, while I called upon my family’s ancestral blade, and it came to me in a burst of flame.

“Oh? No. I’m going to sell these. They’re worth almost five thousand each. Ghost guns always are.” He explained before raising his hands. “These are my weapons.”

His words would’ve been absurd, especially as he was not even pubescent, but the mangled and destroyed states of all the bodies around us told me to not underestimate him.

“Very well. Leave the ringleader to me if he is here. His head is mine.”

I thought that he’d agree; instead, he shook his head.

“Let’s race for it. First one to the top gets the kill.” He stretched and grinned. “You win, you get honor. If I win, I get whatever bounty he has. Deal?”

I glared at the ousted child before deciding against making another claim.

“Very well.”

As long as Daichi died for his betrayal, I cared not how it occurred.