The minigun kicked in the soldier's hands, flame spitting from the end as it laughed and chattered its unending war cry into the demon's faces. They didn't know what to make of it before it fired, but as it shredded armor and carved gashes into the road, they tried to retreat, turning and fumbling with each other.

Slowly walking forward with all the inevitability of death itself, the soldier approached them, holding the button down and gripping the handlebar as tightly as he could to steady the weapon's aim, stomping forward so that he could even attempt to walk without sliding backward.

Whatever version of the minigun this was, it kicked like a mule, and it was taking most of the soldiers strength just to keep moving. His arms were rattling from the vibrations, and Eld had her head underneath her paws, whimpering from the noise. Either way, he was having more fun than before.

He had guns now!

Squinting through the helmet past the gunfire, he tried to make out what was happening and saw a demon running away as fast as it could. Four of them had gone down, but the final one was getting away. His eyes narrowed. That wouldn't do!

Discarding the minigun, he watched it turn into mana and dissipate. With a thought, he activated the again and summoned a new weapon. This one was sleek, with a squat magazine and long barrel. A cylinder, the ends flaring outward at both ends, was mounted to the top, and it featured a hefty stock to the back.

Jumping easily to the roof of one of the red-shingled houses, the soldier twisted and raised the sniper rifle to his helmet, aiming carefully. Centering the crosshair on the back of the fleeing demon's skull, he pulled the trigger, and the rifle bucked.

Shaking his head, he raised the sniper again, but it was unnecessary. The first shot had more than done the job.

Allowing the weapon to disappear, the soldier hopped down from the house and dusted his hands off. Looking down, he practically laughed at his old sword. Some might have wanted to keep it as a reminder or whatever, but the soldier preffered guns to blades any day of the year.

Turning to Eld, he was surprised to find her still whining loudly from the sound. He wasn't too worried about his own ears - he'd grown a bit deaf to the gorgeous tones of the firearms, but it'd been a few days since he'd arrived and their sound had become sweeter than ever.

Casually picking the gigantic dog up, the soldier hefted her on his shoulders and began walking back down the street, ankle deep in gore. Eld yelped as he lifted her, and her claws scraped against his armor as he headed back to their relatively hidden base.

Thankfully, his home was relatively close by, and all he had to do was go into the tunnels. The heavy bootprints led him back to the main area. Looking around at the small cave, its ceiling only a few inches above Eld's head and the walls looming inward, he realized that maybe it was a bit small. He shrugged. Well, there were a few ways to fix that, one of which involving blunt force. The others involved explosives. A lot of them.

Setting Eld down, he popped his knuckles and got to work, punching stone away with his gauntleted hands as easily as if it were made of particularly crusty bread. The dust was starting to get all over him, but he didn't mind. It mixed with the blood spattering him and settled into an earthy crimson, hardening and cracking over and over as he flexed and worked, slowly coming off of him in pieces as it turned into scabs and broke away.

Seizing a chunk of rock the size of a refridgerator, he yanked it away and broke it over his knee. Grabbing the larger pieces, he set about crumbling it into dust, having to break the larger pieces a few times over. 

Straightening, he dusted his armor off as best as he could and then clapped, the sound echoing through the caverns as a small cloud of dust exploded from his gloves, sweeping the worst of it away. Looking around at the considerably largened cave, the soldier nodded happily to himself and sat down. 

Summoning a good old-fashioned wood-and-metal pump-action shotgun, he raised one hand, and a handful of slugs appeared in it, red plastic cylinders with a coppery base. Methodically, he started loading the shells into the shotgun. Through the 's added knowledge, he knew that the gun could easily load itself, but there wasn't many activites more therapeutic to the soldier than personally slotting the ammunition into a shotgun for himself.

With a thought, he pulled up his main board.

- Level 34

Class:

MP: 780

Resilience - 798(+1027)

Strength - 866(+500)

Agility - 773(+50)

Intelligence - 109

Charisma - 28

Luck - 8

SKILLS:

, (Marksman

PERKS:

, , ,

EQUIPMENT:

,

The soldier blinked when he saw the Equipment area. Did it count the blood of every demon he killed as a point towards its total? What was that supposed to mean?

finally, you ask a question I can answer reasonably. No "How do I rip this guy in half faster", no "Shouldn't he be dead now?", just a question about your status board!>

Pointing at the Equipment section, the soldier indicated the item in question.

The soldier was patient to wait. Putting his shotgun aside, he looked around for a large chunk of rock that he'd missed, found one, and started rubbing the corners off it with his hands, making quick motions to grate his palm over it in rapid strokes. 

A few minutes later, the responded. 

will increase your Resilience by one point for every opponent you kill. It's a from your class, . Make sense?>

The soldier nodded in response, and continued.

Palming the ball and giving it a tentative punch to make sure it would hold up, the soldier tossed the stone ball at Eld, and she snapped it up, her paws gouging its previously smooth surface as she gnawed on it. Returning his attention to , the soldier's eyes narrowed. 

Well. That sounded incredibly helpful. 

Rising from his seat, the soldier picked up his shotgun and racked it, loading one of the slugs into the chamber.

Time to test it out.