Page 125 of Light Leech

I burned my reserve to dash forward with inhuman speed, meeting him far earlier than he expected with a jab to the throat.

He fell back, choking, but was quick to jump to his feet. He tossed his jacket, revealing large muscles with pulsing indigo-lit veins.

Had I chosen the worst target?

I tried to dodge his punch, but it took me right in the side of the head.

I burned my reserve to regain my focus, then jammed him in the stomach with enough Bite-enhanced force to feel something being crushed within.

He vomited blood onto me, but that did not stop him from swinging again.

His fist collided with my shoulder, just clipping it with enough pain to make me feel some of the rage I had forced upon him with the fix.

I swung at his face, knocking him onto the ground.

I stepped back to recalculate, but he did not let a moment pass. In the second I had to see him before he could charge again, I looked into his eyes with popped blood vessels. Any self-preservation had been replaced with the need to kill. His bloody jaw hung open and as he moaned while charging, I doubted he could close that broken mouth.

I dashed, meeting him before he expected, and slammed my fist into his chest, cracking what felt like every rib until I felt another organ being crushed. He collapsed, coughing up blood, but his eyes remained on me with a demonic rage.

I stood over him, then sat on his chest with my knees pinning his arms to the ground. Any relief I felt in his surrender was lost as I felt his chest collapse even more beneath me as I sat on a mess of ribs and collapsed lungs.

He couldn’t breathe, but I could see his bloody tongue try to speak. His body was failing him, but his eyes retained a hatred that would not relent. Any typical human would have died long ago, but this man had been altered to fit a job where he pissed off every other company besides Nichley. Combat mods weren’t uncommon the higher one climbed in society, especially among those whose jobs required creating enemies.

He wheezed. The sound was wet and metallic. I didn’t want to feel around his broken chest but seeing him still fighting for survival made me wonder how many of his crushed organs were cybernetic replacements. He should have died, but the berzerkitab kept him fighting until every last part of him surrendered.

The edges of his mouth turned up. He squinted in deceptive pleasure.

He tried to move his hand, but I kept it down.

He moaned and tried to move his hand again. I let it free and was relieved that he had not fought anymore. Where words failed him, technology would succeed.

He reached up to tap me.

I understood.

I leaned down and allowed him to tap on the base of my skull.

He connected and shared his final words.

Kell: You cheated.

Petya: Call it what you want, it was a fair fight.

Kell: No, you used something to stop the effects of your fix too early.

Petya: What?

He forced that same wheezing attempt at a laugh.

Kell: It would have been hilarious to see you go down on your girl in front of the crown. Baptism by fire into the elite, right?

Petya: What?

Kell: I went soft of you with a lustitab. You’re in the wrong here with a berzerkitab.

Petya: You sick shac! Why would you make me do that in front of everyone!

Kell: It makes a good story. She’s hot. You’re–