《Trash Knight: System Recycler: A litRPG Satire that No One Asked For》56: The T-34/85 Main Battle Tank of a Fantasy World

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I heard a clunk resonate within the belly of that beast, that enemy tank.

-5000 Earth Element

Bulwark (Left) activated.

My left arm rumbled and bulged with metallic growth, stretching and snapping into a large shield. Before the steam of the metal could even hiss and cool, the tank fired.

Light flared, the boom shattered glass, and the table disintegrated.

I didn't have time to brace.

The tank shell slammed hard against my shield, but it sliced at an angle, digging deep into the hard iron of my shield, throwing sparks and echoing out a cross between a clang and thunk.

The shell ricocheted off me and continued through the warehouse door. A distant explosion rocked us.

The woman laughed, but her voice was static and thin from the loudspeaker. "Aw, Redrim," she said. "Don't make this hard on yourself. Just surrender now, and apologize, and I'll just let this whole thing blow over."

My knees still shook from the force of that hit.

I glanced over at Vil--he had taken Johnny off to the side door, and he had now armed himself with that longsword he left there.

"What's wrong, Redrim," the woman said. "Have you given up already?"

I glanced at Vil. He nodded at the main warehouse door. I took the hint.

Heart of the Masochist activated.

Hmmm-click.

+1 Smoke Grenade

I tossed the smoke and braced for another hit.

Vil slashed his sword--streaks of cutting wind sliced just past me and sliced the door, cutting a hole through.

The tank fired again.

The shell cut through the edge of the shield, and it exploded, throwing me far off to the side, slamming against the wall.

Now, this. This was something that could really tickle my dick! And my dick was now tickled five hundred percent.

-12,500 Earth Element

Turret (Right) activated.

My right arm reformed into the cannon array.

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"Redrim!" Vil shouted. "Aim for the rear armor!"

The fog of the smoke grenade was still thick here, but I could guess where the tank stood, judging by the deep gurgle of its engine.

I ran toward the other end of the warehouse, but goddamn, I was getting heavy.

Emergency Power activated.

The tank engine revved. Its treads began to squeal. It was turning!

Could she see me?

I felt my masochist power draining. Through the haze of smoke, I could see the outline of the tank, and I wasn't perfectly behind it, but at an angle.

I braced and aimed.

The tank's turret whirred over to search for me.

I fired.

Thoom!

My attack belted the rear of the tank, but it just plinked off! Sparks sprayed against the warehouse wall, and I stood dumbfounded.

There was no way the tank was this tough.

I blinked, and I found myself staring down the barrel of this monster.

It flashed.

I raised my shield up just in time to--

Erupt in fire and flame and pounding smoke, and I felt my body shoot out from the warehouse and slice through the grass and dirt.

I grunted to my feet and looked up.

The tank aimed at my center mass. Fuck!

A gust of wind yanked me over—a wind spell--and I toppled across the grass just as my spot exploded in chunks of dirt and debris. I rolled like a rattly tin can asshole, and I bumped against Vil's leg.

He gripped my forearm and helped me up, and we hid around the corner. "This won't work, Redrim. We aren't strong enough."

The enemy tank rumbled out of the warehouse.

Tch! I hated that phrase. Not strong enough. Bullshit! I just wasn't tenacious enough. I looked at Johnny. He was limp, the bag still over his head, body half slung over Vil's shoulder. It was gonna be a huge pain to fight with this dead weight. "Goddamnit, fine," I said.

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The tank stood outside on the grass, engine purring deeply, the turret humming as it searched around. "Oh, Redrim," the woman said. Her voice echoed across the rows of warehouses. "Wherever have you gone? Don't you want to play with a cute little thing like me? I want to play with you..."

It was nighttime now, and several artificial lights mounted on the outer corners of each warehouse lit the place with pale light. Bugs and flying insects swarmed around the light, and in the distance toward the inner city, a warning bell chimed.

This fight would get complicated soon.

I looked at Vil. "We can't run with this limp piece of shit. Heal him or something."

"Already done," Vil said. He yanked the sack off Johnny's face. Yeah, it looked just like the sketch. It was definitely Johnny.

"Why is he limp?"

"He's unconscious."

I looked back at the tank. Still searching.

Hmmm-click.

+1 Energy Drink (Poor)

I handed it over. "Give him this. If what I'm about to do doesn't work, we're fucking off."

"We should fuck off now," Vil said. He clicked open the drink with a fizzy ksss and turned the drink into Johnny's mouth.

"We need a distraction," I said.

I hurried over between the rows of warehouses, angled my body toward the tank, got into a super-awesome combat stance, and--

Molt.

A thin layer of my outer skin peeled off as I wiggled back out of it. It was sticky, almost, and just as I pulled and spun out of it, the stuff hardened into a flakey crust. Neat.

Johnny coughed and hacked. He was awake. "Wh-what the hell? What the hell! Who-who are you!?"

Vil slapped him, then looked over.

The tank stared at them.

He dove with Johnny just as the tank fired. The shell dug into the grass, flipped, toppled, and slammed into another warehouse. The explosion ripped the huge walls right off, and the entire thing collapsed.

A fire began to roar within.

Vil hurried over, keeping hidden from the tank's line of sight as he--smartly--drew it toward the decoy.

I left behind a smoke grenade to pop off just as she rounded the corner, so it would give us plenty of time to "Fuck off," I said. "It's time to get gone."

Turret Mode deactivated.

Bulwark Mode deactivated.

My shield clacked off my forearm, and my cannon array dropped its barrels and reformed into a usable limb. Now I could sprint again, and we sprinted as fast as we could. Once Johnny could function as an adult and not like a confused infant, he started to run, too. I guess the context of being chase by a mysterious main battle tank finally sunk into his brainless head.

Behind us, distant echoes of mad laughter. "I've found you now, you filth!" followed by a deafening boom, then angry, unintelligible yelling. Of course, that dumb bitch would fall for it.

We ran past the police station and found musketeers arming themselves. "Hey!" one shouted. It was the mustache guy. "What's going on out there!"

"Terrorists," Vil said as we ran by. "They’ve captured a war machine and--"

Thoom!

The police station erupted.

The shockwave threw us off our feet. The flash blinded us. Fiery trails of smoke and debris tapped all around.

Then, the rumble of tank treads squealed closer. I looked. In the distance, I could see the dirt and grass and dust plume from its trail, and the tank roared toward us.

This would not be easy.

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