《The Magic of Diesel》Chapter 8 - Exam Results
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The entire structure collapses as hundreds of bullets go through my armor and flesh like a hot knife through butter. I spit blood as I’m flung backward. My body bounces on the hard floor while my wounds close up before opening again. The healing is not as fast as before, and the excruciating anguish of the forced healing blind my senses. Fuck, there’s as close to the lethal dose of morphine as possible in that syringe! That bastard told me it was painless!
I’ll have a strongly worded discussion with a certain black-market dealer if I survive this.
I grit my teeth and wince. That volley dislocated my left shoulder! The now useless appendage flops on my side as I struggle to get up. A grimace deforms my face as a spike of pain shoots through my collarbone. That fucking hurt! Each movement is now enough to make me see some stars. Should I give up? No! I shake my head to chase the intrusive thoughts away and brace my rifle on my good side. I pull the trigger, but the weapon clicks. Shit! I can’t reload with one hand, so I fumble with a new magazine until it clicks in place. Now, where is this bitch?
A strike of the giant palm dissipates the clouds of sand, and Akiko looks very surprised to see me still standing. She clicks her tongue as her floating hands reappear.
The magical hands ball into fists as they rush towards me, only a thin tendril of energy still linking them to my opponent’s back. My gem is already blinking green, which means I can’t pull another stunt like this. Even if I could, my body would have shut down if I injected any more potions. I won’t be able to use any more for at least a month, or I might overdose considering how concentrated those elixirs were.
I adjust my aim, if only I could rip off those things, then— A floating screen appears near my left hand. What the fuck, am I hallucinating? The syringe might have done more damage than I first thought. In hindsight, trusting a guy who is making lab-grade narcotics in an ancient bathtub he found on the side of the road might have been a bad idea.
At this point, I have nothing to lose so I might entertain the delusions of my drug-addled brain. Is this a status screen, like in video games? I narrow my eyes, that’s not it, it reminds me of the interface of old control software for CNC machines. Why are my hallucinations so shit? For crying out loud, it looks like it runs Windows XP! I drop my gun, incapable of holding on to the weapon any longer. My strength is waning, and the screen still stares at me.
That’s when I realize that Akiko isn’t moving. She’s on one knee and pain contorts her face like—Oh fuck. Floating translucent lathe chucks keep each of her floating hand in place. I blink a few times, unable to process the situation. W-What? I flinch since something is draining my Mana at a tremendous rate. Fuck it, I don’t know what’s going on but I won’t waste the opportunity! I set the spindle speed on the screen to 5,000 RPM and press the ‘cycle start’ button on the side. My Mana dips as I nearly lose consciousness, but I’m jolted back to the real world by a bloodcurdling scream. Akiko is rolling on the floor, there’s foam on the corners of her mouth as the chucks keep spinning. Her black limbs spin on themselves, the connection between the woman and the hands becomes thinner and thinner as they keep twisting.
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They shatter with a disgusting snap, and a primal roar of pain echoes. It’s not anything like I’ve ever heard, it doesn’t sound like it belongs to a human being. I raise my head towards the origin of the scream, and Akiko is vomiting a torrent of blood. Her limp tendrils of darkness flop on the sand, it reminds me of a fish out of water. The severed limbs cover the area with dark paste, and it sizzles as it touches the sand. She roars as her canines get longer, and the flames in her eyes burn brighter than ever. Her voice has gotten hoarser and deeper, it sounds a lot like multiple voices screaming at once.
Cold sweat beads on my back. Shit gets real when someone turns into a demon. What am I saying, demons aren’t real! Or are they? Akiko’s current form is enough to make me doubt a lot of things. A primal part of my being screams at me to run away. Another part of me scoff at the notion. Industrial Revolution roars in defiance, as if to challenge my opponent.
My heart skips a beat as a blade erupts from her gauntlet. The weapon is dripping with darkness, it resembles oil and distorts the air around the screeching woman. She looks like an angel of death, a—I shake my head, let’s stay rational.
She’ll kill me if that blade hits. My screen flickers as it turns to—what? The control interface switches to one that belongs to a milling machine. What am I supposed to do with this? A large, empty spindle floats in front of me. It looks like one of those pneumatic tool changers usually seen in factories. I could somewhat understand the lathe chucks, but how do I use this?
Akiko roars, she’s only a few steps away! I have to do something, anything! If only I could target her directly, then—the coordinate section flickers, the zeroes for each axis switch to the word ‘Akiko.’ My Mana reserves reach a critical level in the next moment, it’s getting way too low for my likings. How does that screen even work, and—fine, whatever! Let’s choose something that can cut through her armor! I order the mystical apparition, and my Mana drops again. Shit! My heart twist as I recognize the terrifying symptoms of heavy Mana exertion. If I keep using Mana, then my heart will stop! The engine in my head sputters for a moment as a floating tool holder containing a massive endmill appear near the spindle.
What the fuck is that? The dark blue metal looks like tungsten carbide, but shinier and half-transparent. A mechanical arm appears out of thin air before shoving the tool holder into its proper position. It makes a satisfying clunking noise as it locks in place. I set the spindle speed and my hand hover over the ‘cycle start’ switch. I’m already on the brink, if I spend a single drop of Mana then—I slip on the sand and my finger hit the button. Something explodes inside my chest as Industrial Revolution sounds like an F1 engine for the briefest of moments. The ethereal spindle turns into a blur as the spinning endmill smashes into Akiko’s blade.
She holds on for a moment, but bone will always lose against metal. An ominous crack echoes as her entire forearm bends in two directions at once. Her demon-like scream knocks me back, but it doesn’t stop the rotating tool that cuts a deep gouge through her sword. The hot metal chips almost get into my eyes as I squint before her carbon fiber armor rips away from her hand, revealing the extent of the damage I’ve inflicted. My stomach churns, that arm doesn’t look like it belongs to a human being. Everything beneath her elbow is a mangled mix of blood, bone shards and snapped tendons. Her scream becomes even louder as a large fragment of her blade bounces on her barrier, making her gemstone blink red.
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I fucking won! Wait—I look down and my gem is also red. Who won then? Why wasn’t there any announcement?
I freeze as the mysterious spindle vanishes without a trace, leaving the arena silent as I struggle to breathe. My lungs burn up as my entire body seize, its struggles for oxygen become desperate as my heart refuses to beat. Akiko collapses as she convulses, incoherent gargles are the only sounds coming out of her mouth as my vision darkens. A substantial headache pounds my head as I lose all feelings in my limbs.
I’m done. I can’t hear anything as my vision turns black—FUCK! I scream as a massive electric jolt restarts my heart. Even my Power spurs into action as the once-mighty engine sputters, threatening to halt at the slightest push. I fill my lungs until they are ready to burst, each breath more painful than the last as I regain all the feeling in my body at once.
The agony floors me. Shit, SHIT! I have to stop my heart from beating again, I can’t—I force myself to calm down as much as possible. Having a panic attack right after a heart attack will kill me. Let’s check the damages, I hope it’s not too severe. My appearance seems fine, which is a relief. I’m not the most handsome person in the world, but looking like beef jerky never helped anyone. Every fiber of my being burns as my nerves come back to life. I scream as something tears me apart from the inside, I can’t handle more!
The smell of sterile plastic brings me back to reality as I blink, trying to understand what’s happening despite my blurry vision. A thick, viscous fluid that tastes like strawberries flows into my mouth, and I gulp it down. Ice spreads through my body as the pain fades, replaced by soreness. I finally notice a group of field nurses surrounding Akiko and me. One of them discards a plastic container that bears traces of a blue glowing liquid.
Understanding washes over me; they gave me a Mana potion! These things are so expensive, and I hope it won’t interact with the weird concoctions already in my system.
“How many fingers do I have?” a female voice asks as a gloved hand appears in my field of view.
“Three,” I answer with a hoarse voice as I tap my pocket, smiling once I find out that my shitty vape is still intact. It’s like it weighs a ton as my hand tremble when I try to take it out. “Fuck,” I mutter as I stop my futile attempts at damaging my body even further. I don’t have any strength left and breathing takes up the remaining of what little energy I have remaining. “Who won?” I ask the woman with a voice that’s barely louder than a whisper.
“And it’s a tie! Both candidates pass the final round!” the loud voice of the old man echoes in my head, making me wince as my headache keeps getting worse. Can’t that bastard be considerate for a fucking moment? “What a thrilling fight!” he keeps going and going as I tune out his meaningless drivel.
I won. Somehow, against all odds, I won! I got into the Academy! It wasn’t without sacrifices, but—scratch that, it’s a miracle that I’m still alive. Mana exertion on such a level should have killed me.
Someone lifts me from under my arms, and I’m carried on a stretcher outside the arena. “Sorry, but we have to free up the place for the other battles.” One of the caregivers in armored white garb says with an apologetic tone. I smirk; that’s the Academy I know! Who cares if you’re dying, just do it out of the way!
“Sir, are you alright? Can you walk?” A nurse asks as we arrive in a tiled room that smells of strong disinfectant. I get out of the stretcher, almost collapsing as my knees buckle under my weight.
“I-I’m fine.” I grimace as I support myself on the cold wall. I can hardly move and I’m covered in sweat but I’ll survive. I brace myself as I do my best to ignore the faint jolts of pain in the back of my head. “I’m warning you, I’m not paying for anything.” I say to the nurses. I frown as I recall what that degenerate attorney told me if I end up in this situation. “I fall under article 7 of—” I cough a couple of droplets of blood. Fuck, what was it again? Why are laws so obtuse and complicated?
“Don’t worry, sir. You’re part of the Academy now, so your tuition cover medical insurance.” The nurse replies, amusement clear in her voice.
“Oh, right,” I chuckle as I stop leaning against the wall. My knees are wobbly, but I’m feeling better already. Being part of the Academy hasn’t sunk in yet, I can hardly believe it. I succeeded, I took my first step. How many steps are there between joining the Academy and burning it to the ground is anyone’s guess, but it’s still a step in the right direction. I grimace as I force my shoulder back in its socket; it’s as unpleasant as ever.
Now, can I drive back home and not faint at the wheel? I smirk, how ironic would it be if I died in a car crash after all this?
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