Chapter 582 (1/2)

Hank had to roll again to the side as one of the suits swiped at him. Several more moved to corral him, but they were having a hard time of it. His repeater fired constantly, shots glancing off armor and barely damaging their defenses at all. But there were a few cracks, and some strange colors of blood pumping out of wounds where Hank had been able to cluster several bullets.

His hands flashed mechanically as he reloaded and began to fire once more, never stopping his movements. He only Dodge Rolled when absolutely necessary to save Stamina, but even so, he was realizing that he couldn’t sustain this pace.

And the only reason that Hank had been able to go for this long was that two of the exosuit monsters pursuing him had broken off to help with Thaddeus. For all that he was an ass, Hank had rarely met a person with a higher talent for violence. Not only were his plasma bolts much more damaging than Hanks bullets, but Thaddeus was also a master of a strange sort of close-range violence.

As one of the exosuits approached Thaddeus from behind, Thaddeus casually shot two plasma bolts at other enemies. Only at the last second did he smash the butt of his plasma rifle back into the attacker's face. That flowed into a flaring elbow that knocked away another oncoming attack, giving Thaddeus enough time to leap to the sky and shoot several more plasma bolts.

Their exosuits hissed as the plasma ate through their armor, but the extra two that had switched sides were tilting the scales towards the exosuits. And all the while, Ezekiel intermittently shot Poison Arrows to keep either Hank or Thaddeus from landing a killing blow.

But in Hank’s mind, music was rising. It was his ballad. They had struggled, and it was time for the music to rise.

Sharp Left didn’t even phase these fuckers, so Hank had to resort to using Hard Right three times in a row to knock one of the suits to the side. Burning metal claws raked along his ribs, ribbing and cauterizing three long gashes. But it was an acceptable price.

Quick as a spark, Hank drew and fired all 6 bullets from his revolver. His blows had all four of the remaining monsters that were fighting against him in a clump, and the leading exosuit raised its arms to defend its vital points. But by the time it had done that, Hank had loaded his strongest bullet into his revolver and fired with Trick Shot.

“Bulletstorm.”

The bullet accelerated forward and struck the last bullet and ricocheted forward. In quick succession, it had struck all of the other bullets and each one shattered into dozens of high energy pieces. The shrapnel smashed the leading exosuit back into a bloody heap. The exosuit behind that one had its right arm and torso ripped to shreds. The third exosuit stooped down and began to help the first to its feet again.

As Hank saw this action filled with comradery, his heart twitched. But the music was calling for it, so he continued on his path. “Mana Detonation.”

The Mana he had shoved into those empowered bullets exploded outwards. The first two struck with the actual shrapnel where turned into a mist of blood, and the one helping the other had its arms and face ripped to shreds. It collapsed, spineless. It was only the fourth and final of the exosuits that had survived unscathed. It paused, looking down at its companions briefly.

But then it looked up, its eyes flashing with that strange fire. Before it could move, Hank twisted and reloaded his revolver. As the last exosuit ran towards him, he fired 6 Lawman’s Guillotines into the sky towards where Thaddeus continued to struggle.

He turned around just in time to meet the exosuit. Its attacks were so fast that Hank could do little in the way of high-level thinking; all that existed at that speed were instincts. He became a blur of punches and point blank shots with his repeater. Attack after attack from the exosuit monster just barely missed him, so much so that he could smell the acrid smell of burning leather. Fighting so close was severely disadvantageous to Hank, but he refused to back down.

If he was hit, he’d hit the other guy harder. If someone took risks, he would raise the stakes. That was the man he had been always raised to be by his father.

Hank felt it now, that strange logic his father used. He could not fail in this fight, because of everything he had gone through before. If he died now, he would be making a lie of everything he had accomplished so far. He was a man who survived and thrived. If he failed at that, then his entire existence would crumble away.

Hank’s right hand broke, but the exosuit stumbled backward. It had only been twenty seconds of brutal blows, but his Stamina was basically gone. With the last of his strength, he raised his repeater and put several bullets into the exosuit’s helmet. Only the last one broke through the armor and inflicted damage, but you only ever needed one good bullet.

Which meant that Hank was turning away from his kill just in time to be smashed sideways by a literal boulder that was careening towards him.

He felt his ribs crack. Blinking rapidly, Hank tried to cope with the sudden rush of sensations. Abruptly, he realized he was on the ground; he must have passed out briefly when the boulder had hit him. Ezekiel took a step and was standing over him.

Every second was vicious agony as Hank rolled to the side and avoided the hatchet Ezekiel had produced from somewhere, but it was fucking better than being dead. As he stood and his bones ground against each other at a volume that even Ezekiel looked confused, Hank was tempted to reverse his opinion on the previous statement. But he pushed that away. Instead, he just grimly regarded the man in front of him.