He attacked first. After all, I needed the first attack to come from his side. It makes it easier to give some semblance of legitimacy to everything that will happen later. A gleaming metallic blade on a chain burst from his body and struck where I had just been standing. Fast. But not fast enough. From the gaps in my suit, a crimson veil of blood rose into the air, quickly forming into a slightly curved blade. Come on, Muramasa, your entrance... you wanted such a battle - here's your chance.
"Thank you, Taylor," sounds a voice in my head: "even though I can't control your body, use my skills. Turn off your head, act on reflexes. Don't retreat, show no mercy. Even if Buddha himself stands in your way..."
"Yes. I know," I reply to him: "cut him down." And I spring from the spot toward Hookwolf, whose body already represents a mixture of steel blades, hooks and chains. For a Master, I too often strive to get into close combat. What's wrong with me? It would be rational to shoot him from a distance with pain impulses and set Omega Squad with Bakuda's bombs on him, but... where's all the fun in that? I can admit to myself that I like all this. An adrenaline addict, I love conflicts, want to win, beat the dust out of enemies, and doing it from a distance - it's like hugging Lisa in a coat. Completely different sensations...
"Argh!" I deflect another blade with the flat of my blade, with a downward swing - I cut through the chain! Yes, the bloody blade of Muramasa's sword can cut steel, I haven't yet found a material that would stop this sword. Like a heated knife through soft butter I cut my way through the metallic blades! The blades and hooks accelerate and I'm thrown back, I roll in a somersault, rise to one knee.
"Don't take hits on a direct block, he's stronger than you," Muramasa tells me: "though you're not weak either, you have the strength of all of us, but he's quite strong."
"That's not right," sounds Edward's voice in my head: "she's physically stronger than him, however - lighter. Due to his mass in collision he can throw her back. If he were smaller, he would have flown away already. But the advice is still good, Taylor, don't take hits on direct blocks. He won't break through it, but he'll throw you back."
"Cut off all his hooks and fuck him right in the hole he talks from!" Svara interjects her two cents: "drive him into the ground! The bastard dares challenge us!"
"Thanks for the advice," I say, rising to full height: "especially you, Svara. Very valuable advice, yeah. Any more valuable instructions, or should I stuff you all into bugs right now?"
"I want to be in a pillbug," Svara responds: "how they get high under stones... I never would have thought these creatures are so happy."
"Tell him his daddy would be proud of him," sounds Number Five's voice in my head.
"What?"
"Just say it and that's all."
"Oh, you guys..." I really do stuff the Butchers into cockroaches, and Svara into a pillbug. I swing the bloody blade. Hookwolf rushes at me, now he already represents a metallic storm of blades, hooks and gears, like a mutated sawmill.
I raise my sword of blood. I mark cuts and... jump aside! I'm deafened by an explosion! Aha... for some reason my flies don't stay on Alabaster's white skin, I couldn't implant a tracker in him either, and the fly on his pants couldn't transmit information that he threw a grenade at me. But battle instinct made me react. I throw up my hand and a bloody flower of a throwing knife handle blooms in his head. This won't stop him, he'll recover, but it'll distract him at least a little.
"Rrargh!" Hookwolf attacks me. I could just extend my sword's blade and cut him in half, but I'm recommended to "put on a show," so I earn my bread. I dodge, parry his hooks and chains, even fly back a couple times from his strikes. Alabaster opens fire with a pistol, but doesn't hit once, Tactician's battle precognition works. I don't even think about it, just move, my body automatically steps aside, goes around Hookwolf's furious metallic ball, positioning him under his comrade's bullets...
"What would happen if a bullet from his pistol hits me?" I ask Tactician and he just chuckles in response.
"N-nothing," he answers: "your skin in combat conditions becomes so durable that even a fifty caliber won't penetrate it. Unless it's armor-piercing... or a shaped charge. I don't know, we haven't tried that yet."
"And we won't try." I let a hook with a blade on a chain pass by, ducking down. Hookwolf doesn't have legs in combat form either, he really is just steel mess of hooks and blades. I have absolutely no idea how these superpowers work here, from a physics standpoint it's nonsense. Though, I'm not the only one without a clue. All humanity doesn't understand... the best minds work on this and can't figure it out. Which, of course, doesn't prevent using it.
Another shot! Alabaster tries to hit me, he's not afraid of hitting his comrade, a pistol shot to Hookwolf now is like buckshot to an elephant. Is this enough of a show for Leet and Uber?
Enough, I think, we've played enough. This is starting to tire me and brings no satisfaction. Like eating bland porridge. A meaningless and boring activity. Muramasa, as a warrior, doesn't approve of this.
I drive my feet into the ground and, pushing off from it - with a short push send Hookwolf flying. Brief, but still... I straighten up. I survey the surroundings. Through the Swarm's eyes I see how Alabaster stretches his white lips in a smile, finally finding a firing solution, how he presses the trigger...
"Bang!" sounds the shot. The bullet bounces off the upper layer of "Ronin" armor, while I stand motionless in place.
"Bang! Bang! Bang-bang-bang!" Click of bolt catch. The magazine is out of rounds.
I raise my head. Tilt it to the side, studying Hookwolf. This man planned to kidnap my father, planned to keep him in some basement and blackmail me with it. He wanted to cut off his fingers and send them to me in packages to make me more compliant. What will happen here is not just a security issue. Not just revenge. Today I must teach a lesson. Not to him... it's too late for him. To everyone. To all of Brockton Bay. To everyone else.
"Fine," I say: "so you don't want to do this the easy way. Excellent. Well then... I won't hold back anymore."
"Now you die, creature!" Hookwolf snarls, but I'm already springing into action. I extend the sword's blade and grip the handle.
"Aaa!" A short battle cry. My bloody blade dissolves into crimson haze, now the haze disappears too. I stand motionless. Behind my back - the body of a man cut in half. An ordinary man dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Hookwolf is dead.
"Bang! Bang!" shots sound. I turn to Alabaster. Slowly. I raise my head.
"Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!" The shots rush after each other, the barrel chokes on helpless rage. In my right hand a bloody blade appears again. Alabaster backs away, continuing to shoot. I wave my hand, describing a zigzag and he falls to the ground, a stump, he no longer has arms or legs.
Immediately - Alabaster rises from the ground again, a condescending smile plays on his pale lips. He restores, doesn't regenerate, but precisely restores. You can cut him into mush, into bloody mincemeat, you can blow him up, you can burn him to a handful of ashes - he'll still restore. And the only thing that actually limits him is his own body. He has no super strength, only super restoration, which means...
In one jerk I'm next to him, with a short strike under the knee I drop him to the ground and quickly bind his arms and legs with super-strong plastic zip ties. Immediately I create a smooth capsule of blood and metal around him, sealing him in metal. I disappear from here and already with an explosion appear above, about a hundred meters over the wasteland! I turn and... with all my strength throw the capsule toward the Bay! Falling down I track its trajectory. Later I'll need to clean up... rebury him in another place, for example at the base. Or give him to Tattletale for experiments. But for now... let him lie there.
I fall to the ground, raising dust in all directions and driving my feet into the soil up to the ankles. An enhanced body is no joke, Butcher Eight is a real Brute.
"I'm finished here," I say into the air: "call the PRT."
"Copy. All units romeo tango bravo. Repeat - romeo tango bravo," sounds a voice in the earphones.
I dust off my suit and head toward my motorcycle. There's almost no one around anymore, everyone scattered, good job. Only two girls in short skirts and that fat biker from before remained in place, they watch me with amazed looks. Well, I handled things here, now to base, then home. Tonight is classic comedy night, Dad and I will watch something funny and old... for example "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes."
"Attention! Tango Alpha! Repeat, Tango Alpha!" Mama's voice on the radio, she's concerned. Tango Alpha - approach of potentially hostile cape.
"Identification?" I briefly drop, straightening up and looking around. My insects notice nothing.
"G-Girl! Repeat - it's Glory Girl! E-T-A five minutes! Approximate arrival time - five minutes! Requesting instructions!"
"All units. This is Administrator. Charlie Foxtrot. Repeat - Charlie Foxtrot," I give the command. Under no circumstances open fire, it's Glory Girl after all. Ah... and here my insects caught disturbance in the sky and...
"Hello, Glory Girl," I say, watching as from the dark heavens a white-gold angel descends to earth.
"You!" she spits out words and something clenches in my chest. I love her so much, and she...
"She's pressing on your brain again," Number One remarks: "what's wrong with you, four-eyes? You have your smart slut. And school slut. And you're a slut yourself. Snap out of it, four-eyes!"
The Butcher's words act on me like a cold shower, and I shake my head, coming to my senses. I look at Glory Girl, but with completely different eyes. She's not an angel, an ordinary girl dressed in a white-gold, tightly fitting suit with a tiara on her head. A tiara, seriously? An ordinary girl, straight, barely upturned nose, gray-blue eyes looking at me so intently and so seriously, slightly plump lips... I wonder what they taste like? Judging by the smell... wait, where did that come from?! She's still affecting me with her aura!
"No," the Butcher chuckles in my head: "you're just a slut, Taylor. When you think of her as an angel from heaven - that's her aura. And when you want to get in her panties - that's you yourself. Well... it's hereditary with us, you understand?"
"What?!"
"Number One is right about something," a thoughtful voice of teacher and authoritative elder: "all Butchers were distinguished by considerable sexual temperament... did you ever wonder why the Butcher needed his own gang? He's a one-man army by himself. Why does he need these capes with weak powers... or moreover - completely without powers? The Teeth's foundation consists of not even capes, but ordinary people..."
"What?!"
"It's not a gang, Taylor. The Teeth are the Butcher's harem, that's all," a mocking voice sounds in my head: "what the hell did he need soldiers for? Look at them - all young men and women..."
"So... this is all because of you?!"
"Yes, Taylor, that's right. Blame us for everything. The terrible Butcher forced you to drag Tattletale to bed and lay out Shadow Stalker on a desk. Of course..." the smile in the voice practically drips with smugness. Such a self-satisfied asshole!
"Hey! You!" Glory Girl spits words like bullets: "get up and fight, creature!"
"Glory Girl," I raise my hands: "listen, I'm not going to..."
"But I am!" she rushes at me, and I move aside, redirecting her strike. She flies past like a speed express, with the same energy and power.
"Calm down!" I say: "what's wrong with you!"
"What's wrong with me?! You deceived me! You... planted that creature in me! You!" Glory Girl turns around and her eyes burn with fury.
"And I ask forgiveness for that. I didn't think," I say: "it was wrong. Sorry."
"As if apologies can make up for it! Here I'll kick you now, and then be like - well, sorry! How will that be for you?!" Glory Girl burns with anger.
"Listen. I was wrong. That's enough already. I promise it won't happen again. Sorry again. I'll try to make up for my guilt. And... I've already reformed. Here, I'm bringing order to the city..." I spread my arms and Glory Girl looks around for the first time. Her eyes widen.
"You!" she says, lowering her head: "mom was right after all. Villains are forever. You can't wash a black dog white. You're a killer, Taylor. You bring only evil to this city and world."
"What's wrong with you! Open your eyes, this is Hookwolf!"
"I won't hide it, Taylor, you're charming and smart and it was pleasant talking with you," Glory Girl says, her voice sounds very quiet and I have to listen carefully to her, strain my hearing.
"He attacked first," I point out: "and I acted within self-defense, Vicky. I even have documents, I'm part of a local militia squad, everything's legal, signed at city hall, I even had a whistle and flashlight somewhere. And he attacked me. He and Alabaster. I was forced to defend myself."
"You're smart. Young, smart, attractive girl. What happened to you?" Glory Girl asks and shakes her head: "do you think I don't see that you provoked him? Provoked and killed! Of course, you have lawyers and laws, you're smart, but you! You! You're even worse than Lung! He was a strong and stupid villain, but you - you're the worst evil in the world! Your mind serves evil! You kill people hiding behind law! You destroy everything you touch. Everything! City hall, PRT, who cooperate with you, covering your crimes - they're all defiled by you! You! And... even my body! You managed to defile it too! If not for Amy, I would never have known! Is this how you control people?! Is this how you forced Director Piggot to accept you and sign the Agreement?! Is this how you want to rule this city?! You're not just evil, Taylor, you're the greatest evil, you're evil that masquerades as good! You're unscrupulous in your means, you..."
"Oh, god. Vicky, what are you talking about?! Yes, I was wrong, and I already apologized to you. Ready to apologize to Amy too, any day of the week. But I'm trying to bring order to this city! What have you Heroes done all these years? On my territory there are no more underground brothels, no girls in slavery, no drug dealers and you can walk the streets safely in the evenings! As I see it, I'm doing better!" I raise my voice: "Vicky! Open your eyes! I'm ready to apologize for implanting a bug in you, but not for my actions as Administrator. I... we're doing everything right, Vicky. Just wait and you'll see everything. Don't judge without seeing all the work. We'll make Brockton Bay a safe and clean city... Vicky!"
The world flips and hits me in the face with earth, the helmet of "Ronin" light tactical armor cracks and splits in half! I get to my feet, wiping my split lip and grinning crookedly. I look at my palm. A drop of blood. Glory Girl can hit hard when she wants to after all. Almost like Alexandria.
"And one more thing," she says, getting into a stance: "never call me Vicky again. To you I'm Glory Girl. Get up, Taylor. It's time to stop you. Someone has to do it."