Adam Smasher, Level 1 Adventurer, Hestia Familia
There were five primary factors that dictated a frame's capabilities in knife-fighting ranges. Strength, Speed, Reach, Weight, and Armor. All five were vital to have in some capacity. Strength was needed to manage one's own weight and deliver blows. Speed was needed to maneuver and land blows. Reach was needed to inflict damage while maintaining safe distances. Weight was needed to resist opposing movements and strike harder. Armor was required to protect one's frame long enough to attain victory.
If you lack in any of those categories, your frame has a crippling weakness. Lack of strength and you can't even move, let alone attack. Lack of speed and your movement is useless. Lack of reach and you'll be killed from a safe distance. Lack of weight and you'll be thrown around constantly. Lack of armor and minor blows will cripple you.
This was assuming all combatants were professionals. Professionals, cyberforms, or adequately chipped to remove those meat-based irrationalities. Because having those irrationalities was the mark of an amateur and an idiot. A smart amateur will get them removed, plenty of chipware to handle this sort of thing. A professional didn't have these irrationalities any more.
Irrationalities such as fear of injury. Fear of damage. Fear of pain.
Fear of a large and heavily armored figure running directly, tracing a direct collision course at you with no signs of stopping. Three meatbags, sans any proper armor, wielding one-handed melee weapons. Sword, Mace, Mancatcher. He needed to disable the mancatcher first.
The fact that they were flinching told him all he needed to know. It didn't really matter how strong any of them were. If they were scared of something like this, they'd be easy to kill. It might be hard to keep any of them alive, but there wasn't any real harm in making tentative attempts. If they proved too rowdy, he'd just go for the kill instead.
Mace was preparing a swing, as was Sword. Mancatcher was moving back and preparing a thrust. He needed to test how strong they were without risking damage.
He stomped hard on the ground, boots beginning to slide across the comparatively smooth dungeon floor. His momentum was slowed only briefly. He reached a hand down to his side and grabbed the item there, before swinging his arm up and bleeding off slightly more momentum.
He threw the Hostess of Fertility bag.
Currently full of rocks smashed from the walls of the dungeon.
He threw a bag of rocks at the meatbag with a mace, who predictably swung said mace at the fast incoming object. He kicked off the ground, and prepared for the next step.
The mace collided with the bag of rocks, two-handed grip. The fact that it did not immediately destroy said bag of rocks indicated that the meatbag was operating within human capabilities at the moment. The bag was partially deflected, the bag tearing apart slightly, the mace going wide…
The meatbag's eyes widened.
Adam's boots collided with his side-torso in a devastating drop-kick. He flexed, uncoiling his body like a spring. No panzerfaust, he wasn't trying to kill them quite yet.
The meatbag screamed in pain as he was tossed back. Adam's hand reached out.
The only issue with a genuine drop-kick, was that one often had to recovery thereafter. Any energy spent preparing to recover was energy not spent on kicking harder. Of course, most people were not Adam Smasher.
He grabbed the strap of the bag of rocks, catching it moments before it left his reach and hit the ground, and pulled. Its weight used as an anchor, he twisted himself in the middle of the air. Kagekaze taught him how to do this trick a while back, it was a pain in the ass to do without speedware, but not impossible. It was, however, completely impossible to do in a proper warframe. Warframes were quite a bit heavier than mere meat or a bag of rocks.
That and you normally use something other than a bag of rocks for this. Kagekaze would probably laugh himself silly seeing him do it this way.
He landed in a more ready crouch as the first meatbag smashed into the doorway into the next room, several meters away. His boots impacted the ground with loud, heavy stomps. Strength measured, speed measured, weight measured. Reach and armor were variables known from visual observation.
All in all, barely more than peak human, if that. Not enough to account for the difference in experience. He had nothing really to worry about.
Raccoon was swinging a sword at him. Not the magic sword, another sword. This one had a blunted tip for some reason, making it ineffectual as a thrusting weapon. It might have special properties.
He raised the bag of rocks, intercepting the sword with the sound of ripping leather and metal crashing into stone. No obvious properties. He made a note to finally buy a shield later. Bag was ruined.
He planted one hand on the ground, and twisted into a low kick against Racoon's knee. Racoon promptly folded, falling down with a pained scream as Adam's boot crashed against a structural weakness.
Unfortunately, he was too late to avoid the third meatbag. He was too used to working with higher end specs than this.
A spike-lined metal hoop crashed against his leg, spring-loaded mechanism snapping into place and locking the limb within. He grunted as the polearm was immediately yanked back, dragging him along the floor like he was a fish being reeled in.
He braced the leg that had been caught. He raised his other leg and brought it down, shaking.
The polearm snapped under his heel, his momentum halted and redirected, he flexed his other leg against the stone floor.
In the second it took for the meatbag to grab him and drag him over, he had snapped the weapon, shot into a standing position, and had the momentum of the pull ready in one of his fists.
Steel gauntlet crashed into the Afro meatbag's arm, shaking.
A spray of gore painted the walls behind his target, who staggered back screaming, clutching at a stump. A few moments later, the lower half of an arm landed to the side and rolled briefly before coming to a stop.
Five attacks, one block, ten seconds, three injured targets. This frame was pathetic.
He pulled out his crossbow and shot the one with the magic-sword in the back, aiming for a lung. No need to risk that one in particular swinging an explosive of indeterminate power. Raccoon, attempting to stand up again, staggered before collapsing. Adam waited a moment.
Puking blood, that was indeed a lung-hit. He pulled the lever back to re-arm the crossbow, and shot again. Afro collapsed forwards, bolt landing in his hip and causing him to stagger forwards. Calmly walking over, Adam made about limiting the chances that the target would flee.
He stomped twice, legshaking.
Afro screamed harder as his legs were ruined from the knees down. Target mobility disabled. He grinned with the screams, meatbags were just so fragile.
Now… one left. He raised his helmeted head and looked to the doorway leading into the next room. Looks like Plainface had some broken ribs, and was trying to stagger away.
He started walking that direction, pulling the lever back again.
"Suppor… Lili… A… A potion…" Plainface gasped out, staggering towards the fearful looking halfmeat in the distance. He made sure to lock eyes with her, through his helmet, a psychological effect that helped to prevent targets from running away.
Adam had gotten very good at intimidation tactics over his long career, it was one of his favorite topics to study. "None leave the slaughterhouse." He calmly explained, hip-firing his immense crossbow.
Plainface yelled as a bolt hit his spine, sending him falling forwards onto the ground. He strained, attempting to crawl towards the halfmeat still with limbs shaking in fear.
"A healing potion might help with the physical trauma, but I'm curious..." Adam began, walking into the room and pulling back the lever again. Eyes locked onto the halfmeat. "...What's your plan for dealing with the mental trauma?"
"Y-you… you're a monster…" Plainface gasped out, voice warbling. Halfmeat almost took a step back, a sharp look her way cut that attempt off immediately.
"Oh?" Adam rumbled with curiosity. "Who are you to judge me? You can't even stand right now."
He stomped, leg shaking. Plainface screamed as his knee was ruined. Adam reached down and grabbed the meat by the back of the neck, lifting it up. He holstered the crossbow, and retrieved his bolt from the meat's spine with a harsh yank.
"You think you're different because you use monsters to do your murdering?"
Plainface attempted to say something. Adam wasn't really interested in hearing whatever it was. His hand shot forwards, fingersshaking.
Plainface lurched in agony as Adam's fingers closed around his spine.
"Don't make me laugh." He growled out.
Halfmeat took half a step back. His helmet snapped towards her.
"Try to run, and I'll run you down." He warned. Halfmeat immediately froze and began to shiver. "Stay right there, and I won't have any reason to touch you. Understand?"
A few moments of silence. "L-lili u-understands…"
What was with the third-person bullshit? It sounded ridiculous. He snorted.
Her eyes locked onto something behind him, and widened in fear. She threw herself back, despite his warning.
"Naga-!" The voice of Raccoon called out behind him. He twisted immediately, bringing the meatbag in his grip with him.
Raccoon was there, magic sword raised, swing already started and jaw caked in fresh blood. How had he gotten up? He was certain he hit a lung, he made sure of it! Adam dropped to his knees, raising the meatbag to cover himself with a snarl.
'Tanuki is really sneaky!' Of all the goddamn bullshit…
'-shima!" Raccoon finished yelling, as he swung the sword. The edge burned with a vibrant green glow…
A wave of caustic light washed over him, the pressure like a firehose, sending him skidding backwards and scraping his armored knees across the stonework. The sound roared like a jet engine and bubbled like a tarpit. The smell burnt the hairs in his nose and made his eyes water.
The meatbag in his hands screamed only for a few moments, then there wasn't enough left of him to scream. A fleshy shield rapidly dissolving under a wave of acidic light. The light was barely beginning to dim.
He was going to have to roll the damage across his armor.
The improvised shield dissolved into nothing. The armor on his front rapidly beginning to corrode and disappear with the scream of degrading metal. The light was fading.
The feeling hit his flesh. He twisted around, using the force of the wave to spin midair, bringing up his legs to guard them with his still-armored back, planting his hands and feet on the ground.
He braced against the stone, back armor rapidly dissolving, eyes locked with the halfmeat currently on her back and cowering in shadow.
The pain hit his back just as the light faded entirely.
He stayed right where he was, slumped over and pretending to be dead. His eyes were locked with the mostly unharmed halfmeat. His meat was screaming at him.
Damage successfully rolled, attack survived. Position still disadvantageous.
He winked at the halfmeat and gestured with his eyes, lips twitching as he heard footsteps making their way over to him. Halfmeat got the hint, blinking once with deliberate intent.
"...F-fuckin… fucking bastard…" Raccon gasped out with fury and exhaustion in his voice. "Oi! Supporter! Are you still alive? Looks like the dumbass tried to shield you, pretending to be a hero." Actually, he forgot she was there for a moment or two.
"L-Lili is still alive, no thanks to Canoe-sama!" Halfmeat, you call that antagonizing? You need to be less polite when insulting people.
"I'm in no mood for your fucking sass!" Raccoon seethed out. "Get the fuck up, we need to leave!"
"Lili sees that we are abandoning our familia members again." Halfmeat politely called back, staying where she was.
Raccoon began to stomp over. Halfmeat partially crawled back in pretend distress. Raccoon reached down to grab at the girl, furious expression on his still-bloody face.
Adam's hand smashed into his arm, shaking.
Raccoon screamed and staggered back as the arm holding the magic sword went flying, now thoroughly severed from its owner.
Raccoon was halted from falling over, other hand caught and body weight supported.
Adam Smasher, armor and clothes in mostly dissolved ruins and body covered in acid-burns, glared down at the meatbag with a cold fury. First though, he turned slightly to face the halfmeat.
"Good girl."
Halfmeat stared at him. He turned his attention back towards the meatbag, who was screaming in pain and panic, attempting to jerk himself away from Adam's grip. He was substantially weaker this time, not even bruising Adam's fingers with his jerking attempts. The pain was distracting him that much?
If the meatbag was smart enough to double-tap, Adam would be dead right now. He would've died to something this pathetic. The sensors on this frame were utterly dogshit and they had nearly cost him his life. He was going to get that fixed as soon as possible, he couldn't afford to be so goddamn blind all the time.
In the meantime.
Adam's fist smashed into Racoon's face, forcing him onto the ground with a minor tremor and shattering his nose. His leg raised up and crashed down, shaking.
Raccoon screamed again as his legs were reduced to pulp.
He had a living target over in the hallway. He didn't need this one.
Adam stomped again. The ground tremored.
Raccoon screamed as his thighs splattered.
Adam stomped again. The ground quaked.
Raccoon's screams turned hoarse as his other arm was severed.
Adam stomped again. The ground cracked.
Raccoon's screams turned into desperate shakes and gasps of pain as his lower torso turned into mash.
Adam stomped again. The ground shattered.
Raccoon couldn't scream anymore, chest reduced to paste.
Adam breathed in slowly, then exhaled slowly.
"When asked, what are you going to say that you saw?" He asked aloud, to the only other occupant of the room.
"T-that Adventuer-sama and his group were ambushed by Soma familia, and they were forced to defend themselves." She responded, nervously rising from her crouch. The truth, but abbreviated to make one side seem clearly better than the other.
He huffed, ignoring his meat screaming at him. "Good girl."
He made his way over to the severed arm, slowly picking up the sword that it was attached to, and glaring at the thing. He took stock of himself briefly.
All of his gear was destroyed beyond hopes of recovery. How fucking annoying. Net gain was a single fucking acidbomb sword, something that was only going to destroy the loot of whatever he used it on.
He glanced over at the halfmeat. "Oi, girlie."
"Y-yes!" She snapped to attention, nervously swallowing at him.
"My bags are gone. Come help me carry shit and you can keep half and this sword."
"...O-okay…" She agreed tentatively, making her way over to him like a church mouse and accepting the offered acidbomb sword. If she tries to swing it at him, he'll kill her. The bag from the Raccoon was similarly appropriated, ripped from a mass that was mostly liquid by volume.
Tenderly at first, then furiously ignoring the pain in his meat, he made his way over to the hallway once more, reaching the Afro meatbag with crippled legs. Kneeling down to press fingers against his neck…
Dead, useless to him. He grabbed the bag off the corpse and handed it to Girlie. Then he rose up and walked over to the mace and bag of rocks.
Mace was intact. Bag was ripped and the rocks spilling out. He took it and wrapped it around his waist like a loin cloth. Nudity covered slightly, he moved on down the hallway, going slightly up and slightly sideways till his fellow murderers came into sight.
The hallway was still rather full of ant corpses. The flanker must've been running interference on the group as they were fighting. Scrappy was leaping onto an ant, stabbing it through. Swordmeat was cleaving another group of stragglers. The trio of brats looked like they were guarding and lecturing a very unimpressed and grumpy looking flanker, who was bound in ropes. The trio of supporters were hard at work breaking down any corpses.
And most importantly, all the other loot seemed to be perfectly intact.
"Mister Smasher is back!" Halflead called out, bringing the attention of the rest of the group.
Scrappy was the first to turn and call out, with a bright smile. "Senpai! Ho- You need a healing potion!" Said smile had almost immediately aborted into a look of worry as the kid practically jumped over to him, immediately fumbling with his side-bag to pull out one of the emergency potions.
He tuned out the rest of the reactions, they didn't really matter.
He downed the offered potion, stabilizing his legs and closing his eyes. His meat roared at him for what seemed like a few minutes, before finally settling down into a quiet murmur of pain.
Opening his eyes again, he spoke. "Status report."
"Minor injuries, handled by healing potions. Flanker captured. One hundred and eight thousand valis and one drop item gained from the swarm." Halflead dutifully replied.
"What about you, Senpai?" Scrappy asked nervously.
"Wasn't able to keep any of them alive, Raccoon used the magic sword, all my gear destroyed and temporary aid in carrying the additional loot hired on." Adam responded, nodding his head over at Girlie with a deliberate look towards Halflead.
Halflead nodded. Acceptable under pro-bono clauses, their bags were already full.
"...You were caught in the blast of the magic sword." Swordmeat responded, holstering his cleaver and crossing his arms. "You doing alright after something like that?"
Adam snorted. "I'm Adam Fucking Smasher."
A brief moment of laughter from the assembled group. The Japbrats practically had stars in their eyes as they started dancing around and chirping to Girlie. What the fuck are you lot chuckling about? Get back to work.
"...I would like to formally surrender." Flanker called out, expression carefully neutral.
Shame, he was looking forward to crippling you.
Now… was it even worth sending a proper message? He'd think about it. In the meanwhile, they needed to get back out of the dungeon, and he needed to buy new gear.
Hopefully more durable gear.