She felt my presence before she saw it--my ten metal tentacle arms as they encroached her from behind, and just as she swung around to see me in my most pure, most honorable trash can form, I snapped my tentacles around her arms, her legs, her waist, and hips and neck and face and she struggled against the overwhelming force of me.

The knife fell into the dirt.

My manipulator arms slid across the impossible smoothness of her arms and thighs, down her boots to caress her calves, to wrap tight on her little ankles, to pin her close to my metallic skin--she let slip a dainty moan--and I wrapped her waist tight against me, and pinned her arms to her back.

Hmmm-click-click.

+1 Anti-Creeper Spray

+1 Roll Duct Tape

Ksss-ksss-ksss-ksss!

I blasted her with the spray several times for good measure because she was extra creepy, and I really needed her to not be awake.

Once she fell limp, I bound her legs and arms and mouth tight, then loosened my grip on her. She was, of course, a gorgeous young woman with a perfect body and all that, but for some reason, I just wasn't that into her. Weird. No matter, I wasn't kidnapping her for that. I needed to interrogate her later. I had just too many questions, and she had just too many answers.

I pulled her limp body over me in a fireman's carry, then walked along my bottom rim to look where Vil should've been.

I didn't see him, but I spotted an unmoving body near the North gate.

I dropped the woman next to the tank--hit her with another refreshing sleep-spell mist--and rolled over.

It was the girl, Johnny's girlfriend. Her arms were cut up bad from the shrapnel, but she was breathing.

Hmmm-click

+1 Healing Potion, Level 50

I pulled it out of my mouth, yanked off the cork, and dumped it over her. The glowing blue liquid splattered across her body, and her wounds began to sew themselves shut.

I picked her up, laid her across my top, and took her back to the tank.

When I felt she was safe and healthy, I hurried back to where Vil should've been, and I found him.

Vil stood as a bloody mess. His cloak was torn to bits, blood ran over his eye, and he held a bleeding gash over his bicep. Behind him, Johnny. Still bound by the duct tape and handcuffs, lying on his side. He was breathing and relatively unscathed, but that wasn't the problem.

The problem was Vil.

He stood with his longsword at the ready, staring at me, waiting for me to make my move. He was all that stood between Johnny and me.

He readied himself, took a battle stance.

Then, he spat out a chuckle.

I chuckled myself.

And together, we laughed as the victors against a main battle tank and as heroes to two innocent people.

The words were unspoken between us. There was no need to say it.

Neither of us wanted the bounty anymore. We just wanted this young couple to be happy together. And somehow, between our earlier miscommunications, we had assumed the worst of one another, that one would steal Johnny for the bounty, and that we were both trying to protect him.

Hilarious.

The gates around us, each side, suddenly slammed and clacked to life. Some began to roll up.

We snapped over. Military uniforms, plate armor, hand cannons. It was the Eurusian military! I thought they might be here to help, but one aimed his gun and fired.

It missed and plinked off the wall, but we took the hint. It was time to fuck off and fuck off fast before the gates were open.

I tossed Vil a couple potions--health and mana--and wrapped Johnny up in my arms. Together, we sprinted back to the tank.

"Redrim," Vil said. "I know what you're planning, but you should know I don't know how to use this thing."

"Doesn't matter," I said. "Just wing it."

The gates slid open further. Some of the soldiers took potshots, some began to crawl under the gates.

We loaded our unconscious loot--the three sleeping people--into the tank by stuffing them tight along the floor, and Vil squeezed into what I thought was the driver's seat. It was too hard to say, as everything was cramped, scorched, and damaged, and there were all sorts of strange mechanical bits everywhere.

Gunfire rang out like rainfall. Bullets plinked against the tank from every direction just as I hopped in and closed the hatch behind me--but fuck all that did because of the huge gashes in the hull.

The tank engine still idled, and Vil fiddled madly with the controls.

Soldiers poured into the arena now, most armed with shitty muskets and hand cannons, not enough to penetrate the armor, but enough to get a lucky shot.

I shouted. "Hurry, goddamnit!"

"I'm trying, just wait until I can--" The tank jolted forward, coasted, then yanked again as he continued to fuck around with the pedals and levers.

I didn't watch. There wasn't time.

Hmmmm-click.

+1 Smoke Grenade

I tossed it through the cutaway gash in the hull, and it plinked outside the tank.

"Redrim," Vil said. "If we get too close, they'll hit us through the hull breach."

"The fuck can I do about that? I'm almost out of resources!"

"Think of something!"

I looked around in a hurry. Part of me wanted to wake up the woman and force her at gunpoint to help us fight, but she was dead asleep. But what would she do in this situation?

Of course!

I dug around for a free tank shell, found one, and slid it in the, uh, hole-thing. Experimenting with the push-and-pull reload system--honestly, I had no idea what I was doing--but I pushed the shell in, locked it in place, and found the scope and trigger.

I lined up the soldiers in my sights, spinning the little wheels to force the turret to aim, and I fired.

Thoom!

The main gun recoiled hard, and the entire thing shook like madness. If I had human ears, they'd have been ringing.

The soldiers ahead of us blossomed out in smoke and fire and shredded limbs, and the entire gate had been ripped off its hinges.

Vil put the tank into full speed, and we drifted the corner--ground against the wall--and slid right out of the coliseum.

Gunfire still plinked on our rear, like rain on a tin roof.

I tossed another smoke grenade behind us.

"Redrim! Ahead!"

I looked. Soldiers had made an armored barricade, and several guns aimed over the top. The entire row of them blinked as they volley fired at us.

"Run them over," I demanded. "We're heavy as fuck."

"Just shoot them," he snapped back.

"I haven't reloaded yet!"

The tank yanked left, and we went off course and dug through a tight alleyway. Too tight. This heavy tank shredded potted plants and couches, pulled clothing lines to snap off, and we ground along the sides of houses as we hurried through.

We burst out of the narrow mouth of the alley, then took another hard right onto the main street.

Then, we saw it. The main gate to freedom!

Vil pushed the engine to its limits.

The main gate, with its subtle glow of protection enchantments, eased down to slam shut on us, to trap us in this city, this even bigger arena.

Musketeers continued to pour into the street to fire at us. Some even cast low-level spells--ice and fire and lightning--but we were battle-hardened now. Vil was smart enough to not present our gaping holes toward the enemy, veering left or right to dodge enemy fire, all the while the tank roared on its escape.

I yanked open the gun, pulled out the expended shell casing--still hot!--and dumped it into my mouth. Using all my manipulator arms, I rearmed the main gun, locked it in place, all while aiming the turret and looking down the sights.

I aimed at the edge of the gate where it brushed against the wall and fired.

Thoom!

The section of the wall erupted, soon spilling over in huge chunks, crumbling away, leaving a small gap of twisted iron, but it wasn't wide enough!

Vil aimed the tank on its sprint--

We braced.

--and he rammed it.

Metal screeched against metal. Sparks flew. Chunks of the hull ripped off, but in a blaze of glory, we darted out and beyond the wall.

The tank drifted to a stop. A wave of dirt splashed outward from us.

I clicked open the hatch and looked back. There, the city of Eurusia, half burning, a now-beehive of a swarming military that was still in our dust, but still hot on our tails.

"What now?" asked Vil. He panted, and sweat poured from him.

"West," I said.

He smirked back at me. "West it is."

The treads gripped the dirt as it turned, the gears clacked, the engine gurgled, and we took off, proud owners of a main battle tank from... wherever the fuck it came from, and we headed West.

Our next destination: the ancient shipyard.