​Chapter 30: The Viper Syndicate Falls

Malakor didn’t even have time to rev his twin plasma chainsaws before Phoenix closed the gap like an SSS-rank blur.

She grabbed him by his metal-reinforced throat, picked his three-hundred-pound cyborg ass up with one hand, and slammed him into the gravel so hard his ocular sensors burst into sparks.

"Sterling paid five million credits for my head?!" Phoenix roared, planting her boot squarely on his metallic chest plate and leaning in. "I’m worth at least fifty million, you budget-bin toaster!"

"Shoot her! Shoot the bitch!" Malakor gargled through his broken vocal synthesizer.

A dozen Viper Syndicate mercenaries lined up their heavy rifles, but before a single trigger could be pulled, a golden comet smashed into their front line.

Killian arrived like an absolute wrecking ball. His SS-rank aura flared so bright it lit up the canyon, his greatsword sweeping in a wide, terrifying arc that sheared through enemy power armor like warm butter.

"Get your filthy hands off my Boss!" Killian growled, grabbing two mercenaries by their helmets and cracking their skulls together with a sickening THWACK.

"Holy shit, big guy! Leave some for the rest of us!" Valerie cackled from two hundred yards away.

She was perched on top of a water tower, firing high-explosive sniper rounds with terrifying precision. Every time her rifle cracked, a mercenary’s head exploded like a dropped watermelon.

Meanwhile, Toby was riding a modified, hover-rigged lawnmower equipped with twin plasma mini-guns, screaming at the top of his lungs as he mowed down the fleeing squad. "SUPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS! APEX ARTIFICER IN THE HOUSE!"

"Is that a fucking lawnmower?!" Valerie yelled over the radio, bursting out laughing.

"It's a tactical combat mower, Captain!" Toby screamed back, firing off a salvo of micro-missiles that blew up two enemy troop transports.

On the ridge, Malakor tried to trigger a hidden arm-cannon, but Phoenix casually stomped down, snapping his cyborg arm at the elbow with a loud CRACK.

"Aaagghhh! You crazy bitch!" Malakor screamed. "You're no F-rank Guide!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Phoenix smirked, her eyes flashing a terrifying dragon crimson as she leaned closer to his face. "Now, you're going to use that little radio in your ear and call Vice-Headmaster Sterling. Tell him his five million credits just bought him twelve body bags and a angry dragon."

"F-fuck you!" Malakor spat oil at her boots.

Phoenix didn't even blink. She reached down, ripped off one of his plasma chainsaws, ignited it with her own dragon fire, and held the spinning, humming blade two inches from his crotch.

"I'm going to count to three," Phoenix purred, her voice dripping with pure malice. "One..."

Malakor’s voice instantly squeaked up three octaves. "WAIT! WAIT! I'LL CALL HIM! I'LL CALL STERLING!"

"That's what I thought," Phoenix chuckled, kicking his radio into his face.

Ten seconds later, Sterling’s frantic voice vibrated through the communicator line: "Malakor! Is it done? Is the defect dead?!"

Phoenix snatched the radio, leaning back against a burning tank wreckage as Killian stepped beside her, wiping black blood off his greatsword.

"Hey, Sterling," Phoenix sang into the mic, her tone mockingly sweet. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but your hit squad was trash. I’m currently using Malakor’s plasma chainsaw as a crotch-trimmer, and your five million credits are going straight into Squad Outcast's bar tab."

Silence hung on the line for three agonizing seconds before Sterling shrieked, "Phoenix?! You insubordinate defect—"

"Listen close, old man," Phoenix cut in, her voice dropping to a gravelly, lethal whisper that sent chills right through the radio signal. "Send all the mercenaries you want to Sector Seven. Build an army. Hire gods. It won't matter. The next time I see your ugly face, I'm going to take that golden pen of yours and shove it so far up your ass you'll be signing paperwork with your teeth."

She smashed the radio under her heel, turning it into scrap metal.

Valerie slid down the water tower ladder, slinging her smoking rifle over her shoulder and looking at the carnage on the ridge. She shook her head, a wild, breathless grin spreading across her face.

"Grand Commander," Valerie smirked, pulling a metal flask from her coat and taking a swig. "You are officially the most terrifying, unhinged woman I have ever met in my life."

"Thanks, Captain," Phoenix grinned, slinging her star-iron spear back over her shoulder. "Now, who's buying the next round?"