Golden Girls

[Belle]

Tier Four. Belle had to sigh. Of all the places in the verses, of all the places in Coruscant, it had to be here.

It was night, as it almost always was on this level of Coruscant. Buried three layers deep beneath the verse's surface, the yawning darkness above was devoid of starlight, filled instead by the glitter of headlights as hovercars flitter to and fro. On the upper tiers, they at least projected the holographic visage of a sky above to trick you into thinking you were anything more than a buried bug under the ground. On Tier Four, however, illusions were reserved for the wealthy. And the closer you got to the center of the Tier, the brighter those illusions became; towers rose, shining brightly, seeming like the fingers of giants reaching upward, as if trying to scrape its way out of the earth. Streets radiated outward like spokes, each one named for a different gemstone - a seemingly literal road of riches.

Such dreams faded quickly, however, ebbing into a sea of low, drab, run down buildings. Neon lights advetised escapes of all kinds - in bottles, in needles, in flesh - their harsh glow playing across the hollow eyes below. It was here that the Empire had placed her upon her waking in the Omniverse. It was here that the Empire disposed of its trash.

Belle wasn't sure how long she had been among the Tier's uncountable homeless. She did know, hoever, that if she hadn't been rescued by her friend, Lily, that she probably would have been rotting in a gutter by now.

The club that the men had retreated to wasn't exactly hiding: its front face took up an entire block. Harsh blue lights flooded the street, flashing. Bright white letters stroked themselves across the canvas of bulbs as if from a painter's brush, spelling out the name: Junior's.

"Not exactly hiding, is he?" Belle muttered, squinting her eyes against the glare. Even the Midnight Rose wasn't this annoying.

"Like I said, he's not the kind of guy that's hard to find. Junior isn't exactly the subtle type," Yang explained, shrugging. "Looks like he's been enjoying himself here. Heh. I wonder if the door is any stronger than it used to be."

Belle sighed. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go in quiet or go in loud," she said. "Stupid question, I guess." As in-your-face as the club entry was, it might as well have been a whisper in a firecracker factory compared to Yang's seeming approach to, well, everything.

"Can we at least try talking before making things go boom?" Miss Marvel suggested. The woman was getting plenty of stares from passersby. Belle couldn't exactly blame them - on these streets, the superheroine did look like she was advertising some fetish wear instead of declaring herself a symbol of justice.

Belle glanced at Alex, only to find him already looking at her. Again. He kept doing that. "Do I have something on my face? Or ass?" she asked, frowning.

Alex held up his hands, opening his mouth to say something, but was interrupted as Miss Marvel let out a loud sigh. "Guess not," she said.

Belle looked around to see that Yang was already gone from their side. Not only that, she was already across the street, her hands on the transparisteel doors. With a mighty heave, she threw them open, slamming the two guards on the other side and sending them flying.

“Hey, boys!" Yang sang, her cheeky grin flashing from behind her yellow curtain of hair. "Guess whoooos baaaaack!”

[Lucas Kellan]

The elevator to Tier 4 shook after it stopped, waking the Shadow Marshal up from his sleep.

He muttered to himself, shaking off the sleep that overtook him as he pushed himself up.

As the doors opened, the darkest part of the night greeted him. Signs in different and protruding shapes and sizes advertised every pleasure man could want if it came in pill, flesh or digital form.

He winced at the neon lights lighting up every corner of the city, his eyes landed on one very distant sign and doors being thrown open, rather loudly.

He could see from a distance, a woman dressed more for sex than for actual fighting. But his judgement could be very wrong as his eyes moved toward the others in the group, seeing a older male, and a few other females.

One didn’t stay long as she ripped the doors open.

Lucas kept his distance while trying not to be caught up in the mess but he did overhear something and stopped.

The Shadow Marshall seemed more interested in the man named Alex but did not know if he would trust him.

Trust around home was rarely given in a profession such as his own.

[Yukika Inoue]

Yang’s smirky grin was almost instantly greeted by guns and other types of melee weapons. Just as she was about to unleash her fists on them, Junior popped in.

“Stop, stop.” He pushed his way through the crowd of people, who were trying to get out of the way of the tower of a man. He finally made his way over to the blonde beauty before speaking again. “Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you, blondie.”

“Because it’ll only be a repeat of the last time we played this game.” She replied. Ember Celica’s gears hummed slightly as they turn into their gauntlet form.

“This world is a different place from Remnant, Yang. It won’t turn out the same as last time.” He said, grabbing his club.

“Well, if that’s the case, let me introduce you to some friends of mine.” She said waving her hand behind her to the group of four entering the building behind her. “They’re some pretty cool people, but I don’t remember you.” She pointed to the man named Lucas, though they had not been introduce, so she didn’t know that was his name. She shrugged it off.

“Hm, well I think it’s time I got payback for the bruise you put on my face!” He said with a mighty swing of his metal club. Yang was ready for him to throw the first punch. She grabbed the man's weapon mid-swing and returned a headbutt. The blow knocked him off balance and to the ground on his arse. She would have followed up if the Malachite twins hadn’t intercepted, Melanie and Miltia. The pushed off to the side into a group of civilians who were only trying to escape the chaos. That left Junior and the 40-ish armed goons in black in red to the other four.

[Alexander Blakesley]

Once the group entered the city verse, Alexander was struck with awe, momentarily taking in his surroundings. The landscape was technologically beautiful and quite a sight to behold. Skyscrapers taller than any Alexander had ever seen before stuck out all around the cityscape each appearing as shining beacons as the sunlight reflected off the sides. The architecture was exotic, grandiose and futuristic. Nothing at all like the more practical-minded yet still graceful building philosophy the Atlean Republic held. Transports and cars of all sorts of shapes and sizes filled the skies like in a sci-fi movie; not even the Republic back home had this level of technological advancement. Sadly while Alexander wished he could observe the landscape and learn more about the culture, there was one thing that did not escape his observations. If there were one way to describe this place, it would be deceptively oppressive. Upon entry into this verse the locals called Coruscant, the group was taken to an Imperial registration office and then escorted into the city.

Alexander was immediately on guard thanks to these Imperial escorts and the heavy military presence upon entering the shining city. Compounding this they reminded him of the IMC, and their brutal mistreatment against the people of the Frontier did little to ease his suspicions. The Atlean held his nerve and stared back at officers who he knew were staring at him. Many turned away unable to handle the fierce steely-eyed glare of the pilot, others focused on their duties hoping the Atlean would move on, yet there was always the odd one or two who stared back. The IMC, the Empire, similar brands of tyranny, different colours and flags. They were bullies who abused their people and the powers given to protect and empower the people for their gains. Alexander could even see the smug air of arrogance the officers exuded when they addressed their men or the citizens of the Empire. Alexander’s fists subconsciously tightened and relaxed repeatedly; he wanted to drop these smug wretches in a bold attempt at humbling them. He throttled this desire seeing it as a suicidal and petty gesture of defiance towards his insufferably arrogant hosts.

The group soon located an elevator capable of taking them to the lower tiers of the city. Once they were inside the Elevator, Belle keyed the correct level into the keypad, and a moment it began its descent into the lower levels. Alexander watched the view as the first level of the metropolis vanished from sight only to descend into the second level and third and finally fourth. Alexander timed the journey down through his helmet’s chronometer, considering the sheer size of each tier and distance to cover their transit was pleasantly smooth and efficient. It was even long enough to test out what Belle mentioned about Omnilium, how Primes can manipulate it to summon whatever they wanted. Naturally, Alexander decided to test this theory out on a small scale by using it to create fresh munition rounds to replace his spent Longbow DMR rounds. Carefully his fingers slid the new rounds into place; he then stored the replenished magazines back into his suit’s munition stores. Amazed the theory worked, Alexander began mentally marking down potential other usage applications he could try out for later.

After reaching the third tier, the further they went down the more run-down sections of the city appeared to be. By the time they finally reached the fourth tier the most prestigious, and for lack of a better term, civilised sections of this level were near the transit hub. Gradually the gleaming towers were replaced with more run down, shady buildings, nightclubs, and locations of suspect nature. Alexander noticed the looks from several groups of people passing him by who he guessed belonged to the local gang scene; their glares filled with nothing but contempt and anger aimed squarely at him. They probably thought he was one of the Empire’s soldiers, the derisive remarks targeting him gave that away, and he pressed on without so much as regarding them. Their threats were as empty as their futures; Alexander was more than ready to prove that should any one of them try to attack him or his group. For now, the mission objective was tracking down the enemy’s hideout, eliminate any resistance and interrogate the individual Yang referred to as “Junior” for information.

Sounded easy enough, Alexander, on the other hand, knew otherwise, plans usually didn’t survive contact against the enemy. Good plans required robust planning and improvisation in case things go south. The group rounded the street corner opposite the hideout when they located the block-wide electronic sign advertising the club. Harsh blue lights flooded the street, flashing as bright white letters stroked themselves across the canvas of bulbs as if from a painter's brush, spelling out the name: Junior's.

“Well, I think we found Junior’s place,” Alexander spoke, a small chuckle escaped the Atlean’s lips. Thankful they did not have to look very hard to find the target’s hideout, the fact it was spelt out on a giant harshly lit sign amused Alexander. It indeed was a glimmering highlight of this confusing and stress-filled fiasco of a day. Now that they had located the hideout, the second phase of recon could begin with examining how large or well equipped the defending force was. Along with identifying targets of high priority and marking them for interrogation when they initiate the raid.

If this raid had any chance of success, they needed to gather as much information on the enemy as possible and take any variable into account. Even simple assaults required days, possibly even weeks of planning. Alexander looked at Belle she knew the land better than they did, hoping she was aware of a place they could use as a safe house. She turned to catch his eyes again; an awkward moment passed before Belle asked Alexander why he was staring at her. Before Alexander could respond his eyes found the commotion at the club doors and with a scowl, he watched what happened as if in slow motion. To be precise, Yang threw both doors inside nearly off their hinges, sending the two guards posted by each side of them flying without a care in the world.

“You gotta be frakking kidding me...” Alexander muttered, staring in disbelief at the complete disregard of necessary recon protocols. It was insane, stupidly insane, the insane that would get people killed and the officer responsible demoted to the stone ages. The Atlean slammed the palm of his hand into his helmet visor and let it slide back to his side. Honestly, he could have sworn these people had a death wish, and he had the misfortune of being stuck with them. While he was in no hurry to die, he couldn’t leave his temporary comrades to their uncertain deaths.

“...Nope, she’s not. Storm the enemy stronghold with no plans or preparations done? What could go wrong?” Alexander grumbled, unlocking the Flatline from its magnetic locks, shouldering the rifle stock he flipped the safety catch off. Raising the rifle towards the club’s doors, he advanced across the road in a half sprint after Yang until he was just right behind the left side of the door frame. Alexander cursed up a storm in his mind at Yang’s recklessness, running into an enemy stronghold with no plan was a great way to get yourself killed. Stacking up behind the door, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up with him then kicked the doors off their hinges. Storming the building with Belle and Miss Marvel behind him, Alexander appeared alongside Yang. Flatline ready, his finger on the trigger, he mentally scanned the room for hostiles and began assessing the enemy.

The main room was more significant in size than he anticipated, beyond the grand staircase from the entrance to the centre was a sizeable checker-patterned dance floor surrounded by four tall glass pillars with holographic trees dotting the perimeter. Beyond that were two pairs of staircases, the first pair led up to spectating areas on both sides with groupings of chairs and tables, previously occupied if the dozens of drink glasses were evidence of that. The second pair led from the spectating areas to the DJ’s booth overlooking the dance floor. An individual occupied the cabin in a sharply dressed suit wearing sunglasses. More peculiarly the individual wore a large bear mask that encompassed his entire head with only his face visible through the bear’s mouth. To the left and right of the dance floor on the ground floor were long bar counters lined with bar stools on the outside with ranks and fridges on the inside containing varieties of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. On either end of the bars and behind the centre of the bars were expensive monitors displaying either music videos or a much-anticipated sports game.

Forty hostile combatants, armed with swords, axes and handgun-sized firearms. While not strong individually they had the numerical advantage and could overwhelm the group one by one. Settling to create an artificial bottleneck to funnel the enemy through he looked around the room. Searching for a means to isolate them from Junior and his pair of impeccably well-dressed female bodyguards Alexander’s answer appeared. A sizeable mechanical halo of lighting equipment and a plethora of spinning disco lights dangled over the central dance arena. Held in place by four support beams that could easily break if shot through, combined with the dozen or so light pods, four glass pillars surrounding the dance area and various other expensive looking equipment could quickly create the bottleneck he hoped to aid his allies.

“Ok, Belle, Marvel, new guy sorry don’t know your name, crowd control engage after my signal. Yang, get the twins. I’ll take Junior, once you’re done move on, help your other team members out and watch each other’s back, understood?” Alexander ordered tersely, no sooner had he gave their orders had Yang jumped into the enemy and took a swing at Junior before being intercepted by the man’s two bodyguards. This girl’s enthusiasm was commendable, her patience on the other hand or lack thereof was less than impressive. Much to his annoyance, this forced Alexander to act just as swiftly to compensate.

“Motherfuc- !” The Atlean growled in frustration; his rifle barrel darted upwards aiming at the support beams just in time to pull the trigger before the enemy could react and open fire. The rifle barrel roared into life as bursts of orange-coloured energy projectiles smacked into the support beams. Not designed to withstand gunfire, they snapped. The whole platform along with the surrounding light fixtures violently disconnected and fell onto the dance floor. With a deafening crash, a giant wall of metal and glass separated Junior, the Twins and a quarter of the henchmen from the rest of the group.

“There’s the signal, sweep and clear! Go!” Alexander barked, waving his hand forward signalling the group to engage the still recovering mob of henchmen. He trained his sights down onto the henchmen around Junior and fired a sustained volley into them. Seven of them managed to dodge away from the initial barrage into cover, three, however, were too slow and crumpled onto the ground before they could react. Junior snarled at the Atlean, outraged by the man for gunning down his men and destroying his property. All of which he treasured greatly, although it was more the latter than the former.

“Destroying my property, gunning down my men? Get out of my club; Here I’ll show you the door!” Junior roared, hiding behind a pair of sizeable fallen lighting pods from the incoming gunfire. His club began transforming into a missile launcher; he had to act if he wanted to recover the situation and save whatever he had left. Hefting the weapon onto his shoulder, he aimed the tube at Alexander, taking precious seconds out of cover to stabilise the missile launcher. Alexander noticed this and hesitated for a moment as if to process the fact that the sizable club in the man’s hands just turned into a missile launcher. The Bar Owner grinned viciously; it was just enough time to level his aim and pull the trigger. Multiple missiles then shrieked out of the tube towards Alexander with white grey streaks of propellant chasing after the warheads.

“Did that just turn into a missile launch- OH WHAT THE FU--!” Alexander exclaimed, rolling out of the way of a wave of missiles that missed him by mere centimetres. The explosive projectiles shrieked past him before shooting upwards into the ceiling causing debris to fall upon him and the entrance of the club. Alexander scrambled to his feet shouldering his rifle, eyeing the man who fired the missiles with barely contained annoyance. He could see the rear of the tube shuffling about above the debris, no doubt the man was preparing another salvo ready to fire.

Alexander checked his Flatline’s munition counter through his HUD, twelve rounds remained and not enough to deplete Junior’s energy shield or Aura as Yang had described it earlier. Alexander made a decision, as Junior finished reloading the missile launcher he emerged from his cover again. Just before he could pull the trigger, Alexander emptied his entire clip into Junior causing his Aura to fail. Junior immediately ducked back into cover, hoping his Aura would recharge fast enough to fire another missile salvo. Alexander activated the safety catch on the rifle and holstered it again into its magnetic lock on the right back section of his armour. Unholstering his Hammond sidearm and unsheathing his bayonet he mentally prepared himself for the next phase of his plan.

“Hey, can anyone see where he went?” Junior asked loudly from his cover, not risking exposing himself until his Aura recharged. He needed as much time as possible to aim and fire his weapon. The Pilot was a crack shot; this didn’t bode well for both his men and more importantly his chance to salvage whatever reputation he had left after this fiasco. How could all this happen after a fight with blonde teenage girl wielding shotgun gauntlets? A question that he was confident would yield no clear-cut answer.

[video=youtube]/watch?v=oD3ylxcTomE[/video]

“Nah boss, I don’t see-- OHGODNO!” One of his Henchmen replied just as a grappling hook attached to metal cabling embedded itself into the man’s torso and yanked him into the air. Before he could finish what he was about to say, the man’s throat suddenly opened by Alexander’s bayonet, unable to react his body got kicked back into the ground. The remaining six Henchmen could only watch as their comrade’s life was brutally snuffed out and the perpetrator began targeting them too. The speed, efficiency, and grace the armoured figure displayed horrified them; they barely had a chance to defend themselves before he was upon them.

The first henchman swung in a wide horizontal arc at the Pilot, but he ducked under the swing and drove a powerful uppercut into the man’s jaw. The man could feel bone grind against bone as his jaw broke. The Pilot fired a grappling hook into the man’s head while he was still mid-air from the punch. Followed up was a vicious yank which sent him some distance behind the Pilot with such speed that had the man not used his Aura to shield himself; His head would’ve either ripped clean off or his neck would’ve snapped from the whiplash alone. The Second henchman ran at the Pilot brandishing his sword in the air screaming bloody murder. The Pilot jumped over the Second, aimed his sidearm at the man’s head and fired two rounds both hitting their mark. The Third and Fourth tried to work together to take the Pilot down. The Third kept the Pilot preoccupied with his axe while the Fourth circled the Pilot to try and ambush him with a swipe of his sword. However as the Fourth saw his opportunity to attack, the Pilot kicked the Third into the Fourth’s strike and impaled him. Frozen in horror the Fourth was too slow to react, the Pilot sneaked behind him, grabbed his head and snapped the man’s neck. The Fifth and Six both brandishing a submachine gun and high calibre handgun respectively kept their distance. Unfortunately, distance meant nothing to the Pilot as he rapidly closed the gap. He kicked the Sixth down into submission before using him as a body-shield while the Fifth emptied his entire magazine into the pilot’s direction. The bullets all hit their mark, but the Pilot remained unharmed as he counterattacked by unloading the magazine of the Sixth’s handgun into the Fifth. With all his henchmen annihilated with brutal efficiency, Junior transformed his missile launcher back into a club infuriated by the fact that these people were torching his livelihood.

“So stop me if you heard this one: “I’m going to drop the beat on your head so hard you wished you could handle this club!”” Junior growled, preparing to deliver a merciless beating on the Pilot. He was beyond furious, yet he was terrified, the speed and ruthlessness this monster showed sent a chill down his spine. He tore through his entire security detail with seemingly as much ease as a hot knife through butter. As much as Junior hated to admit it, he missed Remnant despite it being a shit place to live in hindsight-wise. While the Omniverse had no Grimm or White Fang, these comforts are now significantly nullified by something far worse. Primes, these beings who held the power of gods in their hands yet most of them laugh at the concept of morality or decent work ethic. Today he was facing down four or five, one he was unfortunately well acquainted with, two he had no idea about yet were tearing his men apart like toilet paper. And then there was this armoured man, a man who seemed dead set on wiping out any resistance who got between him and Junior to extract whatever information about the attack in the Nexus.

“Heard it, doesn’t roll off the tongue. I’m more a fan of: “A wolf’s bite is worse than his bark.”, I have no idea who you are, nor do I care. I’m going to rip you apart, keep you alive, you have intel we want to know about.” Alexander replied, remaining frighteningly calm and professional as he threatened the bar owner. He twirled his bayonet in the air casually before catching it in a reverse grip in one hand and his sidearm in the other. Alexander abruptly unloaded round after round into Junior, depleting his freshly recharged Aura. With his magazine emptied, the Pilot holstered his sidearm leaving a free hand to counter Junior.

Junior charged towards Alexander swinging down at him. The tall, brutish bar owner was boorishly straightforward, pretty much telegraphing his attacks to Alexander. The Pilot took advantage of this, sidestepping around he swept his leg into Junior’s and swiped his bayonet into the larger man’s side. The momentum caused Junior to fumble on his front, ignoring the knife wound he leapt back onto his feet. Holding the club tightly, he rushed Alexander again. The Pilot rolled around the man’s blunt weapon, jumped into the air to sweep his leg around and deliver a vertical aerial roundhouse kick into Junior’s head.

Junior snarled with frustration as he was once again knocked into the floor by this strangely acrobatic man. He felt his head ring painfully, his side burned agonisingly, despite the pain he got up still determined to make this man, Yang and their entourage pay. He threw his club at Alexander and ran at him, predictably the Pilot rolled out of the way but was unable to dodge the follow-up attack. Junior used his larger and heavier frame to put all his strength into a haymaker punch. Alexander braced himself as the punch connected, sending him spiralling over to the opposite end of the dance floor. Relieved he hit the smaller man; his body felt drained after channelling all of his might into one punch.

Alexander tasted blood, the punch winded him and felt like he just got ran over by a train. He could see Junior with a giant smug grin on his face, thinking he’s the victor after getting admittedly one good punch on him. Junior couldn’t be anymore further from the truth, out of sheer spite and resilience Alexander was back on his feet. He removed his helmet, with a small hiss the helmet detached and he locked it into place on his suit’s belt. The Pilot stared at Junior; his eyes unnerved him looking at him much like a predator would at helpless prey. Combined with the wolfish grin and those pointed canines gave him the impression that he would be lucky to come out of the brawl in one piece.

“You call that a punch? Stop trying to hit me and start hitting me!” Alexander taunted, laughing at Junior he barrelled towards the larger man. If Junior didn’t feel fear before, he did after meeting this potentially mentally unhinged lunatic. Too tired to move out of the way, Junior was helpless to act against Alexander’s vicious counterattack. The pilot’s fists connected into Junior’s kidneys with a third punch connecting into his face. Each punch felt like hammer blows with the final one disorientating him; his vision was unable to focus on a single point. Alexander followed up his assault by leaping into the air, aided by the jump pack he hovered, kicking Junior in the face repeatedly before finishing him off with a dropkick. Junior collapsed on his back; his body couldn’t withstand any more punishment from the Atlean.

“All bark and no bite, you must be popular with the ladies.” Alexander mockingly taunted, sheathing his bayonet while taking the opportunity to reload and refill magazines of both his sidearm and assault rifle. With Junior more or less detained, he paused for a moment to catch his breath and prepared to defend his disarmed target in case any of his henchmen tried to recover their boss. Given the fact that they had already lost a quarter of their number, Alexander highly doubted the enemy's capabilities at this point. While he was still able to go and aid his allies, Junior’s capture, survival and lastly, interrogation was the primary mission objective taking priority above all over concerns. Alexander held his position and waited for his team-mates to finish the enemy off. Alexander removed his helmet from his belt, secure it over his head then glanced over to Junior’s weapon.

A funny looking thing, a club which could transform into a missile launcher within seconds with just a flick of a switch or a push of a button. Like Yang's shotgun gauntlets, he was intrigued by the combination of weaponry and the logic behind its creation. He had never seen anything like it before; the fact that it could fire multiple missiles at once probably endeared it to the Pilot. Holding the weapon in his hands, he studied it enthusiastically, hoping to discover what made it tick. Ideally, he was hoping how the weapon’s switching technology operated. If he could find a way to reverse-engineer it, turn it into an effective counter against Titans and armoured vehicles then it would be a terrifying instrument of war.

After fumbling around with it for a great deal of time, in one attempt nearly causing it to fire a salvo close to his face, he found the switch. The Pilot’s face beamed with pride as the missile launcher turned into a club right in his very hands. To him, the satisfaction was comparable to triumphing over a near impossible puzzle. Once the club had finished its transformation phase, he flipped the switch again and initiated the club’s transformation into its missile launcher form. This process of transformation testing continued about a dozen times as Alexander got to grips with the weapon.

“I got to say; this could be the start of a beautiful relationship between us. Hey Junior, mind if I steal your girl here?” Alexander addressed the weapon adoringly, then he jokingly asking the bar owner if he could "legitimately" acquire it. With a grin, he took Junior’s pained grumbling for a yes. With several swings in the air, Alexander looked at the club and began wondering how to customise it to accommodate his fighting style. In its current state, it was too heavy and unwieldy for his liking; the missile launcher needed modification if he was to take it with him. It was far too inaccurate with not enough punch; the multi-missiles are ideal for anti-personnel duties if modified correctly. All of which he intended to do as he felt the weapon’s potential wasted on a simple-minded barbarian like Junior.

[Lucas Kellan]

The bluish Shadow Marshall hadn’t been in Coruscant more than a day and he was already involved in a fight. A fight that normally didn’t seem like it should involve him in any way. But here he was.

Inside the local nightclub with a neon sign named “Juniors”, the fight conversed between Junior and his 40 minions. The Shadow Marshal’s eyes moved onto a loose panel that the pilot quickly shot down, crushing 7 of them in one blow.

That left 32 of them left for him, Ms. Marvel, and Yang to crush.

He thought he’d have to rely on his M32 Combat Knife the whole time but a quick reminder of his Spoor brought it back to life.

The futuristic gun was switched to a sniper rifle and as a few pawns started to pepper Yang and Ms. Marvel, A long distance shot snapped the two men and made them hit the ground.

Two shots out of a 24 bullet magazine so far required the right timing and aiming of the shots.

At least the magazines didn’t run down fast except when he used the other mode on his gun.

The Shadow Marshall slammed his hand on the gun, forcing it to switch to the Spoor mode.

A few of the handgun equipped goons tried to aim at Lucas, instead their hands shaking made their aim lazy.

Before they could shoot, a huge blast of superheated air shot out as Lucas squeezed the trigger.

Two men went flying back into two others.

The others simply stared at each other “How the hell did he get a gun like that?”

“Don’t stand there, you idiots, get them!” The other goons gritted their teeth, but with a team of 4 primes. 30 goons were a cakewalk.

Ms. Marvel slammed her foot on one and frowned “And stay down.”

Lucas frowned and looked over at the others “Why leave Junior unconscious, he’s going to track us down later if he wakes up.”

Alexander gritted his teeth, one day here and the new guy was already questioning things.

[Yukika Inoue]

The blonde charged back to the group when finished with the twins. They could see the duo lying on the ground, groaning in pain from their wounds.

“No need to kill Junior that’ll will only make you popular with the police, guys. I didn’t get the information I wanted, but I got something, so I’m heading out. I’m going alone though, sorry. This is a personal matter that I don’t want you mixed up in. Family and such.” She said folding her arms as she spoke. Her hand raised offering a farewell. “See ya’ guys!”

With that last sentence, the blonde trotted off towards the gate to the Nexus.