Whoosh!
The punches were not slow.
Anything with that much power could never truly be slow—only less flexible.
Jackie threw a straight punch. Once launched, its trajectory was extremely hard to change. He had assumed this punch would make the enemy retreat once again.
But the situation had changed—
Through thermal vision, the two enemies—already glowing an unnatural red—did not retreat.
They surged forward!
As a human, one's understanding of "movement" in combat was always based on one's own combat experience.
Jackie was a seasoned boxer, a brawler with enormous, open, sweeping movements. He had faced many agile and flexible opponents—
but this was different.
Within the few milliseconds of his punch, the two enemies bent forward in a way that defied human anatomy!
Their spines contorted into a full reverse arc, letting their bodies flow like liquid around the punch—yet still transmitting force efficiently, passing the momentum of their footwork through their bodies and into their arms. Two monomolecular straight blades slid along the surface of the power armor, aiming straight for Jackie's jaw!
This attack was so synchronized, so unified, they seemed like two robots linked by the same network!
Screee—
V had originally aimed to take a head clean off, but seeing this, she gritted her teeth and shifted her strike.
But the enemy moved even faster than her!
She could only bring her mantis-blades up to intercept the incoming stab.
Ting!
The monomolecular blade's tip stabbed straight into the side of her mantis-blade, sending a shrill vibration drilling into her eardrums.
But this wasn't the kill stroke!
The Slaughterhouse member's left hand swept entirely beneath Jackie's armor. Five fingers extended, each launching a dart!
The active defense system's micro-explosives were fully spent!
But Jackie suddenly realized—
his other arm had moved on its own, his torso subtly shifting—
As if he had already begun adjusting before he threw the punch.
Boom!
His fist smashed sideways into one Slaughterhouse cyborg's waist. The brief contact released colossal force, and the enemy—already twisted—slammed against the wall in a posture completely unsuitable for landing!
An octo-arm followed through and crushed down onto the enemy's head, the central spike punching fully into his brain.
Jackie meanwhile had eight of the poison darts deflected by his armor. Two embedded harmlessly into the plating due to bad angles.
The other Slaughterhouse assassin attempted to reposition—
only to find an octo-arm waiting directly in his path!
His body twisted once more, spine rotating freely under motor control—
but—
another octo-arm was waiting on his alternate escape route.
Crack!
Two octo-arms clamped tight around him!
The behavior patterns in his skill-chip frantically drove the motors, but his posture was so catastrophically wrong that the motors' force was split among conflicting directions, never producing unified output.
Perhaps the octo-arms were weaker than the full-body cyborgs in raw strength—
but in this posture, the small motors were simply incapable of restoring the body's form.
Artificial muscles tore. Sparks burst violently from the motors.
The assassin froze forever in that twisted position.
Based on what Leo read from their internal memory, this one was the last.
Pa.
Three octo-arms retracted. V and Jackie stared at Leo in disbelief.
Leo shook his head and answered before they could ask:
"Just a minor task. The skill-chip modules in these two were the same ones stored in the others. I had Little Octopus run a quick synchronized simulation. Didn't expect them to be fully autopiloted."
He turned.
"Come on. Let's find their control room."
The skill-chip was definitely impressive—
just unfortunate that they had run into their natural predator.
Little Octopus had two main strengths. In real-world function, it was a top-tier AI for motion coordination. Forget human-shaped bodies—its "original form" was an invertebrate. No movement ever surprised it.
Still, the skill-chip was quite interesting. Worth studying later.
Sss—ssss—
The octo-arm tapped in the air, then drooped like a gentleman bowing.
V sheathed her mantis-blades and followed, quietly grinding her teeth:
"Damn it… letting you show off again."
Jackie plucked the poisoned darts from his armor. The green chemical toxin sizzled against the plating, making his scalp crawl.
He was already very familiar with the feeling of narrowly surviving.
But—
"So… who's Little Octopus?"
[Name: Eclipse · Full-Body Cyborg (Replica)]
[Description: An advanced full-body cybernetic frame integrating assassination, infiltration, sabotage, kidnapping, and data acquisition.]
[Outer layer incorporates a chameleon system using liquid-crystal tech and multi-microfiber digital optical arrays to deceive any bionic optics.]
[A complex auditory array and fuzzy-logic processing noise-cancellation system eliminates all unnecessary sound.]
[Also equipped with a high-powered electronic warfare emitter and infrared thermal-correction module. But remember—do NOT activate this during intense movement. Still under refinement.]
[Feet include adhesive rubber pads for enhanced traction; toes extend and curl for climbing.]
[Its intel-gathering module is still being restored, not that you murderers need it.]
[So I'll introduce its primary weapon: retractable monomolecular blades. You don't need to know the details.]
[Oh, and since I know all you idiots can do is stab people, the cyborg also includes a super skill-chip that lets you become world-class assassins.]
[Developed by Brainiac. Knock yourselves out.]
The fragmented memory restored these notes on the full-body transformation.
Every component was premium.
Premium to what degree?
If it ever hit the market, corporations would immediately try to buy out the entire technology.
Power armor was excellent—but it was a frontline consumable.
Top-tier espionage-grade cybernetics and skill-chips were far more valuable in their own domains.
The constant rumbling underground made the three Brainiac members uneasy:
full-spectrum jamming meant they had lost all oversight of the subterranean battlefield.
But—
[Elio: A standard Black Squad has six members. One Eclipse equals six. Remove the intel module and it's still worth five.]
[Elio: Round up—about seventy elites down there. No matter how strong power armor is, it's useless in a place like that.]
[Sophie: Oh? Then explain what's causing this shaking?]
[Elio: You don't think… that's coming from the power armor, do you?]
[Elio: Any power armor with that kind of strength would be 2.5 meters tall and would collapse the basement instantly.]
[Elio: Ma'am, a power armor breaking through the basement is just—]
Boom!
The ground tilted sharply.
All three Brainiac members were yanked off their chairs by their cables.
"Fuck!" Sophie tore off her helmet, staring at the dust-filled room. She grabbed the fake electric toy beside her and hurled it at her teammate!
Bang!
"Explain that!"
Elio, struck squarely, turned wide-eyed toward their other teammate—Raymon.
Raymon looked even more lost.
"The mainframe's decisions can't be wrong. It has the most skill-chips, the most knowledge… this tremor… this tremor…"
"This tremor is the sound of your coffin lid slamming because you fucked up your ascension," Sophie snarled, kicking Raymon in the liver.
"The mainframe is malfunctioning!"
All three had full-body cybernetic modifications; the kick produced only a dull synthetic thud.
There was no pain—
but the crisp echo did snap Raymon back a little.
"The mainframe… yes, we should check the mainframe. But that can't be—
it's not my mo—"
"Idiot!"
The three threw on their jackets and hurried down the long corridor—
On both sides, the walls were like a morgue. Still-living people lay on crude racks, long cables inserted into their necks.
Each row connected to its own interface panel. At the end of this living data farm, all cables merged through the wall into another chamber—
the one housing the so-called mainframe.
After only a few steps, Sophie froze, staring at the mechanical indicator beside the door—
Red.
Meaning the gate leading to the mainframe—
was open.
"How could the mainframe make a mistake?" Raymon murmured.
"Shut up, idiot. Grab a gun."