《Icon of Paradise》PART TWO: Chapter Ten—Flashing Blade
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Chapter Ten—Flashing Blade
“Whatever!” the mech driver said through his loudspeakers. “Well? Come get me!”
Snarling, Ichiro stepped off the porch and into the waterlogged grass.
“Be careful,” John said.
Ichiro said nothing as he stared at the mech, it’s thick legs and bulbous cockpit providing an intimidating front. Above the cockpit were rockets and on the arms large machine guns, some of them small enough to be effective anti-personnel weapons.
Had he been a samurai, perhaps Ichiro would have screamed as he charged the mech, but instead he moved silently save for his wet footsteps in the grass.
As he moved forward he heard John moved to the right, out of the way of the mech’s incoming fire as the driver opened up at Ichiro.
He dodged the bullets as they screamed past him and into the ground with thick thumps. As he neared the mech, the pilot moved, attempting to back away and maneuver out of Ichiro’s reach.
The sound of its hissing servos was loud as he moved up to the machine and jumped, flipped in the air and landed on the cockpit glass.
The driver attempted to wipe Ichiro off, but the mech was designed to hold weapons and to manipulate larger objects for climbing and shooting, not for delicate maneuvers, such as grabbing a man by the scruff of his neck and tossing him off the windshield.
A fatal overstep in this mech’s design.
As an assassin, Ichiro understood the design of this vehicle. It wasn’t that the mech was outdated, it simple was too large to have been designed for this style of combat.
“Get off me!” the driver commanded.
Grinning, Ichiro said, “Do you still want me to come for you, killer?”
“Killer?” the driver asked. “I’m no killer. I am an Imperial Mech Driver! How dare you insult my honor, you traitor!”
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“You are a killer!”
Ichrio hit the emergency cockpit button and then back flipped off the mech. The design was such to prevent mech drivers from being killed while trapped in their vehicles. The designers never intended enemy combatants to hit that button.
And yet Ichiro did.
“What!” the driver screamed as his cockpit opened by way of powerful pneumatic servos that could crush metal in the event that the door was bent shut. “You bastard!”
Ichiro lunged forward as the driver swiped his arm across the ground. He jumped, put his hand out and used it to vault himself over the mech arm and back onto his feet.
He ran, jumped and flipped forward in the air, his katana flashing. The driver screamed at his incoming fate.
Ichiro angled his katana blade forward while pressing his palm against the bottom of the hilt. The blade sunk through the mech driver’s chest and into his seat with a sharp cutting sound.
The man grunted heavily and made noises as he stared at Ichiro with wide eyes. He coughed once, blood gouting out of his mouth and over his chin.
Ichiro stood over the pilot with both of his sandals firmly placed on either side of the cockpit seal, his teeth gritted together so hard he thought they might shatter like glass.
He pulled out the sword, but the pilot made no sound of protest, as he was already dead and gone, his worthless pathetic spirit departed from his flesh.
Ichiro then unbuckled the dead soldier and grabbed his corpse by the scuff of the neck and hauled him out. He fell onto the wet ground heavily.
“Ichiro!” John said with astonishment. “I can’t… I can’t believe it!”
He turned to meet the gaze of his companion. “You better believe it,” Ichiro said, “because I’m taking this mech to rescue Harlan and Joji.”
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Nodding, John said, “Yeah. Go—don’t wait for me.”
With a final salute, Ichiro turned and sat in the mech chair, but before closing the cockpit, he said, “Let’s meet back where we killed that first set of soldiers.”
“You got it,” John said. “Heading there now.”
Ichiro closed the cockpit, the sound of the heavy rain smacking against the windshield. In these torrential rains, the cloying summer heat evaporated, leaving one cold and shivering. The cockpit was otherwise very warm since the heater was on and the dehumidifiers activated.
He would be completely dry in a matter of minutes.
Putting his hands into the control sockets, he manipulated the mech into turning around in a growl of jets and hissing pneumatic servomotors.
“Now it’s time for payback!”
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It Started with Slime
Before we jump in, let me say that the MC starts stupid, so the language and writing style is straightforward to reflect this. The writing improves with the MC and as the chapters progress (I hope). It is also a gradual growth story, so no zero to hero in ten seconds... with that out of the way: An alchemical experiment has gone wrong and results in a Slime Monster. It doesn't have a name at first and is something that it will need to work out! This story follows a Slime that starts as a Micro Slime with some level of consciousness, and there is more to it than meets the eye. Survival is the name of the game. To improve, it works hard to grow, evolve and become more powerful to survive its harsh new reality. There is a lot more going, and only time will tell if this Slime (all its various versions) can become strong enough to make it through the strife to the other side. It's a harsh world, after all. It Started with Slime is a story with a Monster Protagonist Evolution story. There will be no profanity and no sexual content, and there will be some violence and fighting descriptions. I am a native English speaker, and so the English here should be to a good standard. That said, even though editing, there may be some corrections and typos, so if you see some, let me know! If it bothers you a lot, I am working to make sure all chapters have no typos, but of course, some might slip through. I will endeavour to correct any picked up, though! Also, I started this a few months ago and so any feedback is always appreciated, also reviews and ratings! If you like or don't like the story, let me know in the detailed reviews! That always helps me see what is good and what needs improving. Working on releasing chapters twice a week, I will try to increase that as time goes, but at the moment, that is what I can release. Patreon has more. If the story gets more popular, then I will increase the releases. I am aiming ultimately for a chapter a day if I can get to that. Chapters are roughly 1500 words, with Interludes every five chapters being more or less than that! Enjoy! Edit: Book 1 finished on Patreon, and the format for Book 2 is slightly different with Interludes every three chapters, and the release schedule will be three chapters a week. Cover by: Faren Discord: https://discord.gg/eDuZaEAAqG This story is published and available on Royalroad, Webnovel, ScribbleHub, Wattpad, and extra chapters on Patreon!
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8 200Black Home
This is the story of a guy… Nah, just kidding. I’m Neant, nice to meet you. I know, weird name, didn’t choose it… Actually, I did. Well, I’m probably not one to be trusted blindly. What follows is some sort of summary of my life, narrated by no other than good old me. You get the privilege of learning about my story from my own point of view, isn’t that great ? How I vanquished galaxy-sized foes, how I met extraordinary people, how I created entire species… You know, regular stuff. If you’re reading this, know that what I did wasn’t exactly pro-bono. Sure, it felt nice to do good for once, but I expect a lot in return. I expect a thriving world, a sane society, and a solution to our little problem. So, don’t slack off ! Neant, out. _______________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapters between 8k and 10k words Currently 204 pages
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When the world as humanity knows it comes to an end, and is altered by forces beyond comprehension, humanity is given the chance to strive for power greater than they had ever thought possible, and even immortality. With the world and the rules it followed naught but a memory, how will humanity adapt to a world where the only rule is that of personal might? With a whole new world to explore, new challenges to face, new horizons to chase, will humanity gain the strength to not only survive, but thrive?
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