Gives You Hell

Jenny heard a crash behind herself and turned to see that a band had occupied the stage… or most of one anyway. Someone had rigged a light above the stage to fall directly on the bassist, who twitched weakly under it. Not her. That aside, the bassist looked like he was going to be fine. Probably. Giving John a thumbs up, she turned toward the stage.

“I heard you need a bassist,” she said, activating her version of charm for good measure. “I’m the best there is - you saw me during the race. I’m also the lead singer,” she added, staring the guitarist down.

“Right, right, love, no problem,” the lead guitarist, an elf with shark-like teeth, replied hurriedly, “this is our planned list.”

“All covers? I guess I can’t really judge,” Jenny replied, hooking up her bass to the amp. “Don’t worry, I made sure it would sound right. Let’s start with this one.”

John watched Jenny leave, and as the Announcer said “Fight”, music took the soundwaves back over. His girlfriend’s voice poured from the speakers as the woman across from him lunged toward him. “I wake up every evening… with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”

David, don’t interfere, John told his companion; he sensed protest, but David obeyed. He knocked back her attack with a hand covered with Mana Construct, the other aiming his pistol at her stomach. Her dagger sliced at his arm, protected by his duster. It did a sliver of damage, and she growled at him, “Guns are a coward’s weapon. If this is the best you can do, then I made a mistake challenging you.” He was about to retort when he felt her impale his chest with the rapier, missing his heart by mere inches. He gasped for breath, thankful that it had missed any vital organs. His health dove down to around three quarters.

He looked up at his opponent, not daring to breathe in again. Despite the injury being lesser, this pain was worse than when Shakespeare had impaled him. Perhaps because he was fully conscious. For a moment he simply stood there, and she slashed at him violently with her dagger. Suddenly, the situation caught up with him.

He panicked and Jumped behind her; turning around as quickly as he could and firing three shots at her back. His lack of orientation and hasty positioning gave her plenty of time to figure out what had happened. She bent out of the way before the first fired as if she had been expecting exactly such an attack, and only one found its mark. It carved a deep groove into her neck, and John wondered what would stop them from killing each other. How would they interfere if he put a bullet in her brain? As he was busy thinking about the ramifications of his current fight, she managed to slice at his stomach with her dagger. “While you’re still probably working - at a nine to five pace, I wonder how bad that tastes!”

He Jumped back and into the wall; a magic circle appeared in her hand as an electric green bolt of energy fired at him. That apparently isn’t offensive magic, but I’d still rather not find out what it does, he thought as he used Disrupting Blast, dissipating the bolt before it could reach him. He fired a volley of shots at her, emptying the clip. He ejected it, looking for another to load. One loaded from his inventory automatically, and he was glad that this was the same kind of gun as the pair he had used while waiting for Ebony and Ivory to arrive. If I could use those, this fight would probably be over right now.

“When you see my face; hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” As the song rocked toward its climax, John grew a gauntlet on his hand and threw Houndiira a haymaker. “When you walk my way; hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” She dodged to the side, thrusting at him with her rapier. He had expected as much and Jumped away. She saw through his single Afterimage easily, and stabbed behind herself, as that was where she had expected him to appear. He landed next to her instead, which disoriented him less and made it easier to fire another barrage of brass at her. One was stopped by a hurried defense of the dagger, but the other two easily made their way into her hip. She shrieked in pain, and a bolt of lightning struck the space between them. “Now where’s that picket fence love, and where’s that shiny car? Did it ever take you far?”

“That ends the first round! Please retreat to your corners for the minute break!” Houndiira retreated back, clutching her side. This doesn’t really feel right. Then again, she challenged me, so I just have to try my best. He looked back at her and noticed that she had dug out both bullets with her dagger. Her face contorted with pain, and he could faintly hear a gross sound over the cheers of the crowd. They dropped to the ground, and when she noticed him looking, she stared back with a malicious grin. Gross. A golden light surrounded her for a brief moment, nowhere near as intense as the one that had healed them both. As it did, he noticed her tattoos take on a faint golden glow. Her wounds closed, and she shuddered. For good measure, John decided to slap the Shard of Mercy on the pistol in his hand. “After a short discussion, it has been decided that the first round goes to The Gamer! Now for the second round… begin!”

“You never seemed so tense love - I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” A volley of shots greeted her as she sprinted toward him. Despite his impeccable aim, she was able to twist through, leaping toward him and making her body a smaller target. Two bullets grazed her, the rest missed.

“Finally manning up and hitting me?” she taunted, slicing at his cheek. Her other hand thrust the rapier at his stomach, but he formed a Mana Construct against his torso to block it just in time. Gun Kata kicked in again as he disarmed her of her main weapon, twisting her wrist and kicking her back.

He fired another volley of shots, and her tattoos glowed an ice-white as a circle appeared in her palm. A neat wall of ice blocked his bullets, splitting the arena in half and providing cover for her to return to the weapon rack. She took a crossbow and a belt of arrows, along with an estoc. She fired another green bolt of energy at him, shooting a crossbow bolt at the same time. He Jumped behind her, firing the rest of his magazine - three bullets - at her back. “Truth be told I miss you…”

“And truth be told I’m lying!” Discordance rang in his head. The illusion of her that hid behind the ice wall faded, and she stepped out of the shadows formed by the thick ice to stab the Estoc through his back. The music faded away as he panicked. He dropped the gun and stabbed the rapier backwards at the same time, impaling her in the same way she had impaled him, just in a much less vital place.

Error! Gamer’s body c⃣ a⃣ n⃣ n̸̟̟̙̪̠͍̖̔͂̄͆̚̚̚͝ͅo̷̘̯̻̤̩̘̬̙͎̟̎̾͐͘̚t̸̨͓̪͔͙̞͚̏̂̿̊̒̚̕ͅ §µ§ᖶᗩᎥη-

Gamer’s Body will reset when the foreign object is dislodged from your chest!

They both stood, motionless, until he slowly fell off her blade, onto his knees. His vision was spotty, and his health was at about a third. He felt the warm trickle of blood run down his torso and the searing hot current of pain running through him. She held her blade up to mostly non-human spectators to see the human’s blood. Three different orcs tensed up and readied to intervene. The seers made it clear that the mostly likely outcome would be that time would run out before she struck the final blow, that her pride would be her downfall. Nonetheless, Oz studied the timer with one eye and her muscles with the other, ready to intervene.

She laughed her victory to those above her as she stomped on the head of the one below her. John wanted to move. Get out of the way. All she’s doing is bragging. Move now. Now. Come on. Move! She reared back to deliver the final blow, but another lightning strike separated them. Houndiira screamed her rage to the spectators, who looked glad that they weren’t down there with her.

“That’s the end of the second round, folks! I think it’s obvious who that round goes to! Take a thirty second break, and get ready for the final round!” the Announcer belted, and though the music came back into focus for everyone else when he stopped talking, John couldn’t focus at all. He picked up his gun and retreated to his side. The moment he looked over at her, she flicked the blood off her blade and smiled. She didn’t heal this time, which John took as a good sign. He stood up, supporting himself on the rapier. “After little deliberation, it has been decided that the second round goes to Houndiira Myudis!”

“It’s Myduis,” she yelled back up at him, to which the Announcer merely waved her away.

“Alright. Everyone ready for the final round? Fight!” John took advantage of the existing ice wall and crouched down low, firing three shots above the wall. She can go invisible, and she can create ice, she’s really good with piercing swords and… wait, that’s it! She can create illusions of herself, but two can play that game! John stood tall, cocking his head slightly to the right as a crossbow bolt just missed him.

He pointed the rapier at her and exclaimed, “Enough of this! You said a pistol was a coward’s weapon!” John tossed the handgun to the ground behind himself, holding the rapier with one hand and pointing it in her direction. “I say the same about a crossbow! Come on then!” She snarled and leapt toward him, sword forward. He Jumped out of the way at the last second, hastily turning to face her and leaving an Afterimage behind. He used Advanced Spy on her just before moving, noticing her health hovered at just above nine-hundred. Let’s hope this works.

Quickly burning through a third of his mana, he Jumped twenty seven times, crowding the arena with Afterimages. Each time he would come at her from a new, unexpected angle. An angle that was bad for a full attack but good enough to get scratches in. Most of the time his attacks missed completely and he had to Jump away again before she could catch him. It wasted mana, but at least it was safe. He huffed for breath when it was over, seeing he had taken her down to seven-hundred. She noticed that the only one slouched over image had to be him and prepared for another ****. Not… good… enough!

“When this is over,” he managed between flitting around the arena, “you’ll know the name of the man that beat you. John. Newman.” I may be sloppier with this sword, and slower to boot, but it just barely outranges the one she has. He didn’t notice that he had subconsciously started following a pattern, but she did.

Houndiira closed her eyes, feeling the air around her as the boy scratched her body with his strikes. She felt the air shift as his sword missed her slender waist, and her lips quirked upwards as she realized that although he was fast, very fast, he still had no idea what he was doing. She heard the metal soles on his feet grind against the stone of the floor. Dancing just out of range with bursts of impossible speed was more clever and powerful than she had given him credit for. Usstan shlu'ta kyorl ol. His blade grazed her skin two more times. Three more times. It missed her again, and she took her chance. Gaer. She thrust her blade out. The tip would embed itself where she knew his left eye would be.

Gamer’s Luck leveled up!

It was pure chance that at that very moment he had decided to go for broke and stab at her heart. Instead of his left eye, as her sword should have pierced, he felt it slide home in his left shoulder. Instead of his blade grazing her right hip, as his sword should have cut, she felt a cold weight through her heart. Her eyes went gray, and the announcer went unheard as she collapsed backwards.

“I didn’t mean to-” John let the sword go before even pulling it out of her, stumbling forward to catch her. Her eyes were blank, and John wondered if that was what **** looked like. He was too afraid to check her health. The rapier fell out of her hand with a metallic clink against the stones as an intense golden light filled the arena once more.

You have been restored to full HP and MP!

The moment Houndiira regained her senses, she kissed him.