Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 63: You've Earned My Respect (Patreon)

It happened so quickly that Ichiro Yamada could do nothing but watch his two brothers fall before his eyes.

One dead, the other badly wounded. Ichiro had no interest left in arguing over who was right or wrong. His bloodshot eyes nearly bulged from their sockets as he lunged at Pantheon.

"I'll kill you!"

Unlike Jiro's, Ichiro's Sandevistan was Arasaka's latest experimental model, the Hashishin Type 6.

Designed exclusively for Arasaka's internal special forces, the Hashishin far surpassed the standard cyberware available on the market. When Ichiro activated it in a near-mad frenzy, he could just barely keep pace with Pantheon for a short time.

The intense radiation from his Thermal Katana warped the air. Its glowing blade became a dense net of fire that seemed to surround Pantheon from every direction.

Pantheon appeared to have gotten carried away himself, meeting each attack with the chainsword in his hands.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Metal clashed fiercely through the warehouse, and sparks flew whenever their blades met.

Perhaps the loss of his brothers had driven Ichiro to new heights. His swordsmanship became more refined with every exchange.

In his hands, an ordinary Thermal Katana seemed almost alive. Every cut came from a viciously precise angle, taking advantage of how difficult the heavy chainsword was to maneuver. Little by little, Ichiro gained the upper hand.

"You don't have what it takes! You're not worthy of facing me!"

Ichiro roared and attacked with even greater ferocity.

Even with [Swordsmanship Mastery] to support him, Pantheon was clearly no match for Ichiro in a contest of swordsmanship. He was forced backward again and again, narrowly escaping injury several times. Only his advantages in strength and Reflexes kept him from being completely overwhelmed.

After another series of exchanges, Pantheon's mind finally cleared. He even began to wonder why he had decided to test his swordsmanship against an actual master of the blade.

Had he lost his damn mind?

He deliberately left an opening, swinging the chainsword in a much wider arc than necessary and exposing his upper body.

How could Ichiro let such an opportunity pass? Even knowing it might be a trap, he couldn't resist.

"Die!"

With no time to adjust his stance, Ichiro brought the Thermal Katana down toward Pantheon's left side like a bolt of dark-blue lightning.

Faced with a strike that seemed impossible to avoid, Pantheon simply raised his arm to block it.

Slice!

The blade didn't sever his arm as Ichiro had expected. Instead, it lodged in the muscles of Pantheon's left arm and stuck fast.

A Body attribute of 23 gave Pantheon more than astonishing strength. It made his flesh extraordinarily resilient as well. In this state, even a full-powered rifle round might fail to penetrate him.

"What?!"

Ichiro's expression twisted in disbelief.

"Hssss!"

Pantheon wasn't having a pleasant time either. The pain made him bare his teeth.

Which fucking idiot invented Thermal Katanas? My arm's practically cooking!

Cursing inwardly, he grinned viciously and swung his chainsword in retaliation.

Ichiro had no intention of standing there and taking the hit. He released his grip on the trapped blade and leaped away.

Pantheon jerked his arm, shaking the katana free and sending it clattering to the floor.

He dropped the chainsword, which almost seemed displeased at being abandoned, and drew the Wingman from his waist with lightning speed.

"Ichiro Yamada, I acknowledge you as the greatest swordsman of our time!"

Even now, Pantheon couldn't resist running his mouth.

"But the times have changed!"

[Dead Eye]!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Without hesitation, Pantheon squeezed the trigger and sent three rounds at Ichiro in rapid succession.

Ichiro rolled across the floor, snatched up his younger brother Saburo's tachi, and used his extraordinary swordsmanship to deflect all three shots.

It still cost him. The Wingman's tremendous impact left his arm numb and split the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

Pantheon gave him no chance to recover. The Wingman roared again, though this time Pantheon added a special little trick.

Ichiro blocked the first two rounds with the thick body of his blade. Then, just as the next bullet reached him, it changed direction.

To his horror, the round curved through the air and slipped past the sword protecting him.

You've got to be kidding me!

King's gun was clearly an ordinary Power Weapon!

How could its bullets curve?

None of Ichiro's disbelief could change what was happening. He pushed the Hashishin to its absolute limit, leaped into the air, and narrowly avoided the round.

But how was he supposed to dodge the next three?

The moment he lost his own katana and allowed Pantheon to draw his gun, the outcome had already been decided.

With nowhere left to escape, Ichiro could only watch his death approaching.

Two bullets traced elegant arcs through the air and struck his arms with such force that both were shattered, leaving him utterly defenseless.

The last bullet hadn't even left the chamber, yet Ichiro's fate was already sealed.

He sank to his knees. The fury had drained from his expression, replaced by an extraordinary calm.

"Your marksmanship is far better than your swordsmanship. I lost fair and square."

Pantheon walked up to him and cut off his head with Ichiro's own katana.

[Detected trait: [Steel-Cutting] (Purple)]

Description: I will become the world's greatest swordsman!

Effect: Your swordsmanship has reached a transcendent level, enough to cut through steel.

Pantheon gave Ichiro's corpse a respectful nod.

Admittedly, his own recklessness had helped create the situation. Even so, this was the first fight in which an opponent had forced him to injure himself deliberately just to find an opening.

"You've earned my respect."

At last the fighting ended. The sea breeze carried away the final gunshot, and the warehouse fell silent once more.

Bodies lay scattered everywhere. NCPD officers, Scavengers, mercenaries, Tyger Claws. There was hardly room to count them.

Another bountiful day.

[Essence +4]

[Essence +8]

[Essence +23]

...

[Detected trait: [Post-Up] (Green)]

Description: Nobody on the court can budge me.

Effect: Body +2. Special effect: Improves combat performance and lower-body stability when fighting with your back toward an opponent.

[Detected trait: [Custom Calibration] (Green)]

Description: Tuned just for me. Good luck hitting anything with it.

Effect: Technical Ability +2. Special effect: Increases your understanding of firearms and lets you modify them however you wish.

Pantheon stared at the two new traits, his face darkening.

Custom Calibration was one thing, but what the hell was Post-Up? Had he stumbled into the wrong kind of game?

What were the odds he'd ever have to fight someone with his back turned? Better dismantle them.

[Essence +34]

The warehouse full of corpses had yielded more than four hundred Essence in total, along with two new traits.

Unfortunately, his storage space was also packed with secondhand cyberware and firearms. Figuring out how to dispose of all this stuff was going to be a headache.

Just then, a new commotion came from outside the warehouse.

Flashing red and blue lights made it perfectly clear who had arrived.

Pantheon raised an eyebrow. The NCPD actually dared to come back?