At this moment, Duncan resembled a frenzied giant bear.
He ripped through the dust-filled, collapsing building, searching for Steele.
But after a few seconds of frantic searching, a horrifying thought slammed into him.
'He's not looking for me. He's going for Bell-mère.'
"Everyone!" Duncan's raw voice ripped through the air, echoing across the base.
"Protect Bell-mère! Get her out of here! Now!"
He became a human tank, ignoring the blood streaming from his chest as he burst straight through the remaining walls and out onto the training ground.
He was too late.
Layer upon layer of his marines stood in a tense standoff, their swords drawn and flintlocks aimed.
In the center of them all was Steele.
He was staring at Bell-mère's rapidly shrinking figure as she sprinted for the docks.
Faced with this wall of obstructive soldiers, Steele's patience finally snapped.
"You've all really managed to piss me off."
His expression darkened.
Being stalled over and over by what he saw as ants... his cold, professional demeanor was cracking, revealing the killer underneath.
"Congratulations," he said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.
"You've successfully gotten my attention."
Hearing this, the marines couldn't hold back their fury.
These weren't just "ants." These were their brothers in arms, and this man had threatened their friend and savaged their commander.
"He called her a deserter!" one of the squad leaders roared, his face red with rage. "He can't do that to one of our own! For the Captain! Fire!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In an instant, the yard exploded with gunfire, a wall of lead screaming toward Steele.
"How pathetic."
Steele didn't even flinch. He just sighed, as if bored.
"Kami-e."
His entire body went limp, fluttering like a piece of paper in the wind.
The bullets passed harmlessly around him. To Steele, this furious volley was nothing more than an ant trying to trip an elephant.
"Cease fire! Engage in close combat!" Duncan roared as he finally reached them, skidding to a halt.
He knew they couldn't win, but he also couldn't just stand by.
The only plan was to buy time.
A cold laugh came from the center of the yard.
"Still overestimating yourselves."
Steele's form snapped back to normal.
He punched the nearest marine, a battle-hardened Commander.
The man didn't even see the hit; he just collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground.
"Avenge the Commander! Get him!"
One by one, the soldiers charged, tightening the circle.
"You forced my hand," Steele muttered.
He planted his feet, then exploded into motion.
Grunts and the sickening thud of fists on flesh echoed across the yard.
With his restraints gone, Steele was a force of nature.
He grabbed two soldiers, used them as shields to block a sword, and then hurled them into the crowd, creating a gap.
Years of CP9's inhuman training had turned every joint in his body into a weapon.
He was a blur of hands, feet, elbows, and knees.
Every strike was precise, exploiting the smallest opening, and every soldier he touched went down.
In seconds, the marines' formation was turn into a wreck.
"Fall back! I'll handle him!" Duncan ordered.
His men scrambled to clear a path, and Steele, seeing the opening, charged straight for it—only to find Duncan blocking his way.
"Wild Bull Charge!"
The familiar roar and the familiar attack.
Steele felt a flash of genuine anger.
"Fine!" he snarled. "I went easy on you before out of 'respect' for your rank. My mistake. This time, I'll break you!"
The muscles in Steele's arms bulged.
He didn't dodge. He caught the charge.
"Hrrnnngh!"
Steele's hands clamped onto Duncan's arms.
His boots scraped two long furrows in the dirt as he fought against the massive momentum.
The sheer, violent force of the impact ripped Duncan's bandaged chest wound wide open.
"It's not over, big guy," Steele hissed, staring into his eyes.
"Multi-Shigan!"
Steele's ten fingers became a blur.
One after another, small, perfect holes were punched all over Duncan's chest, arms, and shoulders.
A fine mist of blood exploded into the air with every impact, enveloping the massive man in a crimson cloud.
But even as he was being torn apart, Duncan refused to fall.
"Even if I die..." he choked, blood filling his mouth, "I won't... let you pass."
He used the last of his strength, seizing a tiny gap in Steele's assault.
He lunged forward, locking his arms around Steele's waist in a crushing bear hug, pinning him in place.
"DAMN YOU!" Steele roared, genuinely furious now.
He couldn't move. "Is that woman really worth dying for?!"
Steele stopped his finger-pistol assault and began smashing his elbows, again and again, into Duncan's back.
Drip... drip...
Blood gushed from Duncan's mouth. His consciousness was fading.
His grip was loosening.
An old memory surfaced. The day he first met Bell-mère.
"Hello, I'm Bell-mère."
"Why did you choose to join the Marines?"
"For the faith in my heart. For justice!"
"You think there's still 'justice' in this terrible world?"
"I firmly believe it! In a changing world, there will always be some unwavering beliefs!"
Duncan's will finally broke.
His arms slipped from Steele's waist.
'...an unwavering belief...' he thought, as the world went black.
Steele didn't spare the unconscious Captain a second glance.
He grabbed Duncan's limp right arm.
Crack.
He snapped the bone.
Then, Steele brought his boot down hard on Duncan's right ankle.
Snap.
He looked down at the broken man, his face a mask of contempt.
"Justice?" he spat. "A fool's excuse for weakness."