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Chapter 58 c
🕑 Added 2025-03-14 16:35:32 +0000 UTCChapter 58 c
Leo detected that the sumo bodyguard’s life signs were flickering like a candle in the wind.
His Biomonitor kicked in automatically, attempting to repair the damage.
Leo swung the “Achilles” tech precision rifle off his back.
A pale-blue laser-like line flashed past, piercing the kneeling sumo bodyguard’s chest. It even left a gaping hole in the metal wall behind him.
The guard’s remaining left eye flew wide. His towering frame at last toppled over with a thunderous crash that shook the floor.
The other sumo bodyguard, wielding a massive spiked club, took advantage of the moment Leo fired the shot.
He felt no sorrow for his fallen comrade; if anything, he used the man’s death as an opening to close in on the intruder.
That, indeed, was what it meant to be a professional.
“Die!”
He spoke in a clipped tone. The colossal weapon swept across with terrifying momentum. Even a main battle tank, if struck head-on by such a blow, would end up badly dented.
The distance was too close; the enemy was already upon him. Leo didn’t have time to dodge. He had no choice but to draw Murasame and block.
Clang!
His blade collided with the spiked club, sparks bursting in all directions. But it didn’t stop there.
The sumo bodyguard planted both feet and spun like a windmill, swinging the giant weapon in a relentless follow-up. Now both the force and speed were even greater than the first strike.
Clang!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Leo parried each rapid sweep. He wasn’t foolishly standing in place to block but instead used subtle backward steps and angled deflections. By carefully timing his footwork and controlling how he met each strike, he reduced how much stamina he spent on defense.
Aside from those defensive maneuvers, he relied on Murasame, his powered armguards, and the advantages provided by his Physuiqe LV5 and Block LV5 augmentations.
Technique only mattered if your power levels were at least close; if the gap was too vast, you would be crushed like an ant before any finesse could come into play.
Thanks to all these factors, no matter how much the sumo bodyguard spun like a top, Leo managed to parry every blow. Leo refused to believe anyone could spin indefinitely. Sure enough, after the eighth sweeping strike, the sumo bodyguard staggered like a drunk, revealing a massive opening.
Leo seized the moment and switched to offense. He gripped the Achilles tech rifle in his left hand. A normal person couldn’t have steadied such a weapon single-handedly, but Leo wore powered gauntlets on both arms. One-handed? No problem.
He rammed the muzzle into the guard’s chest and pulled the trigger.
The sumo bodyguard’s body went rigid as a huge fountain of blood spurted from his back. His eyes, open wide, were rapidly losing their light. Yet an implanted *Blood Pump* kicked in to keep him alive for a moment longer.
Gritting his teeth in fury, the guard ignored his wounds, hefted the gigantic spiked club once more, and brought it down in a ferocious smash.
Leo raised his left hand, still holding the Achilles rifle.
The monstrous club came crashing down, shattering the tech precision rifle into pieces—gun parts flew everywhere.
Leo then used the powered gauntlet on his left arm to grab hold of the spiked club, his grip producing a teeth-rattling grind of metal on metal.
The sumo bodyguard threw every ounce of strength into forcing the weapon downward, but Leo refused to yield. Holding the club fast with his left hand, he set his right hand on the hilt of Murasame.
A chill gleamed along the blade as he slashed from the guard’s right flank, carving deep into his abdomen, then emerging from the left side of his chest in a burst of hot blood.
The guard’s upper body slid sideways, separating from his lower half with a wet thud, and fell to the floor. A flood of blood poured out, staining the wood underfoot.
“N-no…don’t come near me!”
Ichijo Daisho clutched a Yukimura smart pistol with trembling hands, his face ashen. Only the cold metallic weight gave him any sense of security.
“You really think waving that piece of junk around is going to scare me?” Leo asked with clear contempt.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three rounds zipped through the air toward Leo.
He narrowed his eyes and slashed with Murasame, deflecting two of them. He then ducked low to avoid the third. Before Daisho could fire again, Leo planted his foot against the floor and shot forward several meters, closing the distance in a single bound.
A heartbeat later, Daisho felt a sudden lightness in his hand. Only then did it register that everything beyond his wrist was gone, neatly severed from the arm—along with the smart pistol that clattered onto the floor.
“M-my hand! Aah! My hand! Aaaaaaaah!”
He fell on his backside, hugging the stump of his arm and howling in anguish. Tears of pain streamed down his cheeks, and snot dribbled from his nose. Once, Daisho had heard countless wails from the city’s downtrodden, never imagining he would sink to their level one day.
Trembling with pain, he glared at Leo, who was shaking the blood off Murasame onto the floor.
“Do you have any idea who I am? How dare you do this to me?! I’m going to kill you! I swear I’ll never—never—let you off!”
Leo snorted. “Should I praise your guts, or mock your stupidity? Did you really think you’d get a chance to take revenge?”
No sooner had he spoken than the red alert blared through the room and courtyard. The estate’s system had detected injury to its owner and triggered its highest-level alarm.
But the flashing red lights died out after only a few pulses, returning to normal. Clearly, Lucy—who had seized control of the security system—had cut it off from the monitoring room.
“If you were counting on the NCPD,” Leo said coldly, “give it up. They’ve shown up here twice already and got turned away by your Arasaka security. Think they’ll come running a third time?”
Daisho’s lips quivered. From beyond the estate’s walls came nothing but silence. Even if the alarm feed reached the NCPD, they’d probably dismiss it as yet another false alert. After being chased off twice, they wouldn’t bother returning.
Leo forced the terrified Daisho to lie flat and plugged a jammer chip into the neural port at the back of his head. Instantly, Daisho’s body went limp, paralyzed as though under a spell.
Leo had spent a significant sum obtaining this gadget from Padre. It was essentially a combination of handcuffs and a signal blocker. Once inserted, the body was “jammed,” severing the connection between brain and limbs. The victim was unable to move even a finger.
At the same time, the jammer chip also cut off any trauma team signals. High-end clients typically carried trauma-team insurance cards embedded with a beacon that automatically alerted a medical response team when the user’s vitals hit a critical state. With the jammer in place, that signal would never be sent.
