《Trash Knight: System Recycler: A litRPG Satire that No One Asked For》45: Metal Behemoth

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Flaming debris rained across the port town, casting glowing arcs of fire. A few people--clothes burning and limbs missing--crawling out of the rubble of the tavern to die in the yard. One drew a pistol and aimed at the metal behemoth.

Gunfire flashes rattled with heavy thumps, and lines of white ripped through the man.

Vil hissed. "Hurry, goddamnit. We need to sail out of here."

The pirate stared, mouth agape, his pipe dangling in his mouth.

Vil kicked the barrel beneath him, and he shook alive. "Now."

"With-with what crew?" asked the pirate.

"We're the crew," Vil spat.

The pirate cursed under his breath, glanced back at the metal beast--it was driving through buildings now--and he jumped aboard.

"Redrim," Vil said. "It's time to leave."

I stared at that metal war machine, studying its hard edges, the sleekness of its barrel, the sheer engineering of it. "What is that?" I asked.

"It's called a tank," Vil said. "Crafted from schematics from the outer reaches."

The pirate struggled to unfurl the sails and fiddle with the ropes. Whatever sailors normally do before departure.

"Cassandra," I asked inwardly. "I can gain power from certain machines. Can I gain the power of this metal beast?"

She replied. "Yes, Imsi. By consuming the core of an enchanted machine, you may indeed gain a new ability. My sensors indicated that be the case. However, my analysis also predicts a zero point three percent chance of--"

"I'm gonna eat it," I told Vil. "I'm gonna eat that fuckin' tank."

"No, you're not," he said. "You won't stand a chance. Besides, we need to go."

"I'll defend the ship by eating the tank," I said. "Everyone wins."

"Or we leave you behind, and you die a stupid death," he said.

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The enemy tank rumbled as its treads wheeled through a portion of a house. The roof caved in, dirt and dust poured and spilled over the tank, but that didn't even slow it down. It fired its automatic rifle again--tat-tat-tat-tat--to tear through dirt and grass and gravel and to saw in half a nearby storefront.

Turret Mode activated.

Warning: Not enough resources.

Turret Mode at 73% Efficiency.

It didn't matter. As my body clicked and clacked with the transformation, my left arm remained as it was, but my right arm reformed into a cannon array. It shredded my cloak and tabard, and my human skin suit ripped and stretched apart. I was handicapped after using all of my resources, and I even felt my ammunition stock was perilously low.

If I aimed right, I'd need but one shot.

Heart of the Masochist activated.

Emergency Power activated.

"Vil!" I demanded. "Hit me!"

He was aboard the ship now, helping in any way he can to make the ship ready. "What? I don't have time for this; we need to help the pirate!"

"Hit me!" I yelled again. "My strength will rise to fruition!"

"What the hell are you on about, Redrim?" He snapped. "Is this some fetish thing? Don't tell me that the entire time we fought, that--"

The enemy tank seemed out of targets, save for the docks. The barrel searched for us.

"Now!" I ordered.

Something slammed against my back--a boot! Wham! A fist! He was punching me now! Whacking the back of my head and body with three-hit boxer combos. "This better fuckin' work, Redrim."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I felt my power rise within me, a cup filling to its brim, running over. If I had a dick, the boner would be incredible.

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The enemy tank took notice of us. The turret whirred over, slowly, but with resolve.

My laughs now echoed throughout the ruined port town. Birds fled from the forests. The tank felt my presence, I knew it, and our spirits raged against one another.

The turret aimed closer. Almost there.

"Hurry up, Redrim!"

I climaxed, my roar now deafening, and my cannon array fired with a blinding flash. The wood planks beneath me cracked, splinters shot out, dust shook up around us, and the sheer force of the projectile group vibrated the air around.

The tank flared up in smoke and flame.

A victory.

"Tch," I smirked. "You should've believed in my power, Vil."

He was quiet.

The plume of smoke still covered the certainly destroyed tank, but... I felt it. No. The tank barrel still stuck out of the smoke. The smoke dissipated.

The tank was unscathed!

It stood motionless. The barrel aimed right at us.

Vil stomped in front of me. A pale green shield snapped into existence before us--

The tank fired, thoom--

And the world erupted in heat and flame.

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