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Chapter 5 by Gatsha Gatsha

What can Fishfreak do?

In a rush, she gathers the most dangerous fish she can.

"What I NEED now is WEAPonRY." Rather than gather fish to her and increase her size, Fishfreak needed to arm herself with useful creatures she could bring to bear on offense. She was sure the creatures in that other room would have been a buffet line of such powerful abilities, if they hadn't first become, well, an actual buffet line. Now, she'd have to make do with what she had... and quickly. Every survival instinct she possessed suggested the hunter wasn't done hunting yet. "I am no CREAture's PREY! I'll TEACH this haiRY LANDcrawLER to RESpect the THREAT of the OCEAN!"

To her relief, there were a number of fish that seemed uniquely well-suited to the task. A pair of huge, scaly eels with rows of sharp teeth were coaxed from their tank. They snaked around her shoulders quickly, while her arms split into discrete bits to integrate the new weapons. Instantly, the previously-**** combatant was armed with two whip-like appendages, tipped with dangerous fangs.

Fishfreak wasn't done there, however. Sensing her opponent drawing nearer, she dipped her head into another nearby tank, stretching her jaw wide and shooting out her frog-like tongue to catch another long, spindly, alien fish that was darting around the tank. This one was armed with a wicked, thick, rough-textured and hard tip at its head, which was always at the front of its movement... When wrapped by Fishfreak's tongue, it integrated and became another flail for her to use, long enough to nearly drag on the ground as her ghoulish jaw hung open. With saliva pooling beneath her, the now-prepared fishy construct prepared to greet her guest, slapping herself in the cheeks a few times with the broadside of her red-scaled arms to psyche herself up.

The door slowly opened as Lanus's cat-like eyes peered into the room in the dark. She heard him sniff a couple of times... Finally, he entered the room. He looked much less intimidating than his opponent had assumed when she'd first caught a glimpse of him... he was wearing something like a belled, colorful robe, which Fishfreak was inclined to think of as a dress, and had a youthful, curly hairdo. He'd be easy to dismiss as harmless... if not for his cat ears, and the slight appearance of his fanged teeth and sharp nails. That, and the smell of (innocent!) fish he now reeked of.

"Oh... I thought you were a fish," the cat man remarked, perching down with his knees bent and his tail drifting lazily. "You smell like one... You're actually a pretty lady! I can't eat a pretty lady."

"And juht WHA paht uff DIF wookf wike a PWETTY WADY?!" Fishfreak asked, cackling around her dangling and dangerous tongue as she slapped herself in the face a time or two more and her bare breasts shook with laughter. It was time to turn this situation around... "Time to SEE how this HAPless HAIRball fanCIES being a FEAST himSELF...!"

How's that weaponry working for Fishfreak?

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