Full Body Armament Haki Novels & Stories

The bone-cannon Hound raised its arm to fire, while the armored brawler Hound crouched, ready to rush him the moment he dodged. Karate relies on the joints, Baraka remembered, his mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. Armor can't be seamless over a joint, or the limb can't move. "Come on," Baraka wheezed, the violet sparks hissing through his gritted teeth. The cannon Hound fired. Another hyper-calcified spike tore through the air. Baraka didn't redirect it this time. He engaged the absolute maximum output of his Overclock speed. The world froze.

These were only the first four, the drone had sighted at least twelve. “H-6 to your front!” Frank’s warnings comes in just in time, as a squad of armed guards barge into the room in a disturbingly calculated tactical maneuver, clearing corners and their weapons directed at the Arbiters. H-6’s visor gave him the stats before his eyes could even process them; just like the earlier catch, they carried pulse fire SMG’s meant to disintegrate upon impact, perfect for use in areas surrounded with extremely volatile substances, and combat body armor ideal for close quarters.

She frowned wondering exactly what he was doing here and so now her curiosity increasing she inched a little more towards the door that was left slightly open. "You won this fight, if you keep on winning, you will find yourself getting closer" he was instructing as he gave the shirtless man/fighter a towel. Even from behind Eira couldn't help but admire his broad back and muscles. "Don't worry Mac, I will make sure to win the fights. I am going to get to him, no matter what" Armando said with determination and confidence in his voice. His voice sounded vaguely familiar to Eira but she couldn’t quite place it.

I suddenly wonder if he already knew before that I'm his stepmother. Did he know me when we first met at the bar? Right, he asked me about it so I assume that he didn't know. I looked at him from head to toe. He's sporting a Light Brown Stretchy Khaki Pants, a Half Sleeve Gray T-shirt and he partnered it with a White Lace Up Rubber Shoes. A wristwatch was on his left pulse. He looks neat and handsome. He's indeed Soren's son.

His fair skin remained unfettered from the strings of hair, and he looks the same, despite the months that have passed since they last saw each other. “Hello, boy?” Balak’s deep-voiced groused from his heavy throat. He lowered his hood, and Ginika’s eyes widen at the body makeup. The man was blessed with abs and muscles. Veins trailed his skin and walk through every part of his body. The belt of the battle gear that held his pants from his shoulders was buried into his skin, trailing down as though it was made from his body. “What’s your favorite weapon?” Balak asked despite sounding uninterested.

He could not help but feel a little angry. Immediately afterward, he said arrogantly, “Ten Thousand Armies is a mercenary organization that has gathered all of the top mercenaries in the world together. Many of our soldiers are soldiers who have served in the special forces in their countries. More than half of Hamed’s soldiers are illiterate. So, how can this possibly be the same thing? The difference between these two is even bigger than the difference between the United States and Zimbabwe!”