While Darno had been able to deal with his Exoskeleton user with relative ease, that wasn’t the case for all of the core members or the Rangers. Joe, in particular, was having a far harder time than he ever wanted to admit.
His face was bloody, his body aching all over from the hits he had already taken. Every breath felt like a reminder of how many times he had been slammed, punched, or tossed aside.
Why is it that I always seem to have the toughest fights...? Joe complained in his head, pressing his back against the wall of one of the offices he had ducked into. He had been running for what felt like forever, darting through hallways and weaving between desks, but even here, inside this room, there were already members of the Gilt Rats and Black Hounds lying on the floor. They had been unlucky enough to be inside when Joe burst in, and he had struck them down before they even understood what was happening.
Inside the room were scattered chairs, a TV screen mounted on the wall, and a long table, clearly part of a media room used for presentations. Papers were still scattered across the table from whatever meeting had been happening before the chaos erupted.
With those exoskeleton arms, that guy is even faster than me. He can block my hits and deal even more punishment back. Even if I won’t die, I’ll keep feeling like death... Joe thought bitterly.
His body was healing, slowly but surely, but his mind wasn’t keeping up. His mental state was fraying at the edges, and he wasn’t sure how much more punishment he could take before he snapped. It was always like this, pain building and building until he felt himself slipping into that unstable place he hated.
I can’t keep getting hit. I need some way to beat this guy...
A loud crashing sound cut through his thoughts. Shards of glass exploded inward, spraying across the room. Joe flinched instinctively as a fist punched straight through the glass wall from the outside.
The Gilt Rat member had found him again. Even hiding wasn’t enough.
"If you’re already hiding like a rat, then this fight is already over!" the man shouted, his voice dripping with confidence.
Joe lifted his arms, guarding his face, and rushed forward. He snapped out a series of quick jabs, but the man parried them effortlessly with his exoskeleton-enhanced arms. Then, with a single counterpunch, he struck Joe square in the stomach.
Joe’s body flew backward, crashing into the table behind him.
"AHHH!" Joe screamed, clutching his abdomen. For a moment he wondered if something had actually broken this time.
"What right do you have calling me a rat when your whole group is named the Gilt Rats, for f*ck’s sake," Joe spat, grabbing one of the fallen chairs with his foot and kicking it toward the man. The chair slammed into him, causing him to stumble slightly.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
If there was one advantage Joe had, it was that the man only had the exoskeleton on his arms. His legs were unenhanced, slower, clunkier. Joe could still outmaneuver him, barely. So he bolted out of the room, weaving through the media floor.
He sprinted back into one of the glass-walled hallways. A Gilt Rat member came charging at him, swinging a bat. Joe ducked under the swing, sprang up, and punched the man across the face. The impact sent the man’s head slamming into the wall before he slid down unconscious.
Another enemy lunged with a kick, but Joe twisted aside, drove his fist into the man’s stomach, and followed up with three rapid punches to the face. The man collapsed, groaning, and didn’t get back up.
As he fell, he had one final thought:
Doesn’t this guy ever get tired...? He’s taken out so many...
Joe exited the hallway and entered the more open area filled with cubicles, the main battlefield between the two groups. Desks were overturned, papers scattered everywhere, and bodies, both conscious and unconscious, were strewn across the floor.
Glancing behind him, Joe saw the Exoskeleton user again, walking toward him with that same confident grin. The man was stuck to him like glue, refusing to let up.
So instead of retreating, Joe moved forward.
He wasn’t just running anymore. As he darted between cubicles, he kept throwing punches, weaving under attacks, and striking down anyone who got in his way. Something was happening in his vision, almost like his training sessions, where every person became a target, every movement a drill. His fists were flying faster than even most of the Bloodline group could manage.
The Exoskeleton user grew frustrated. He grabbed an office chair, lifted it high, and hurled it across the room. Joe dodged most of it, but one of the wheels grazed his cheek, cutting it open and drawing blood.
"Are you just buying time? It’s useless to keep running!" the man shouted, stretching both arms out as if preparing to grab Joe the moment he got close.
"Hey!" a voice called out.
"He’s been doing a lot more than just running," another added.
The Exoskeleton user paused and looked around. Several Bloodline members had surrounded him, weapons in hand, forming a loose circle.
"What the...? What happened to the others? Did you guys take them all down?" he demanded, suddenly less confident.
But it wasn’t them.
The majority of the enemies had been taken down by Joe during their entire cat-and-mouse chase through the building. Every hallway, every room, every corner they passed, Joe had been striking down enemies nonstop, even while fleeing for his life. Although Joe didn’t have extreme strength like some of the others that obtained powers through their vows, he had trained his fist and had one of the most snappy Jabs.
On top of that those he were hitting had already been fighting against others.
And now, finally, the Exoskeleton user realized he wasn’t the hunter.
He had been the one being led.