Mine is the Best (Mod)

[Akira Nakajima]

Akira took a breath as he went deeper into the mines. The boy in drag had returned again for some training. Well, more exploration than training, but either way. He had plans, of course. Kill Shadows. Find loot. Walk out alive. The first was a given. The second was a hopeful chance. The third was just a goal, and it was one he required himself to achieve. Casually proceeding through the maze of tunnels, the boy traced his hand across the mine walls, feeling for tremors, and sniffed the air, trying to sense anything amiss. While feeling helped on occasion, he was pretty sure sniffing did jack to assist him. Still, it was nice to be sure.

Honestly, he felt pretty confident in himself. He grew stronger by the day, and the presence of Alma Elma over Imp was certainly a boon that he could not deny. And he wasn't the only one becoming more powerful, fortunately. He was pleased with Luka's growth, and he was sure that the other users were growing, all the same. Everyone was stepping forward towards new levels. If another Grim Squeaker came, he was sure they'd manage, one way or another.

[ChromaticTruthsayer]

Well, shit. A pack of GOLD Shadows appeared!

Gold Hand

• Megido
• Gigantic Fist

Absorb: Repel: Elec, Wind Null: Rs: Wk: Fire
Gold Hand

• Tetrakarn
• Diarama

Absorb: Repel: Fire, Ice Null: Rs: Wk: Elec

[Akira Nakajima]

To say that Akira was just about sick and fed up of things using gigantic fists to pummel his torso was putting it lightly. Because it had happened so much lately, as though it were habitual bullying from Shadows, the boy tensed his body as the blow came in. He did not slam into the wall this time. In fact, he was relatively well off, instead. Not only was he still on his feet, but the enemy was right in front of him. Evoker out and to his temple, he pulled the trigger, releasing Alma Elma from his subconscious. Acting off of the boy's intentions, the succubus fired off an Agilao right in the Shadow's “face”. The blast sent it flying back, fingers aflame.

It was only then that the boy noticed the second Shadow. Actually, it was only then that he noticed something exceedingly noteworthy regarding the Shadows. They were gold. Gold translated to highly valuable goods. Valuable goods translated to money. Pools of money. Fueled by his rage towards being punch and by his desire for money he probably didn't even need, the crossdresser shot at the Shadow, intent on using the length of the scissors to slice one of the hand's fingers off. Just before it connected, though, the Shadow put up a field of sorts. As he slide across the Shadow's finger, he felt the flesh of his arm split open. It was a barrier, and one that reflected physical attacks. Thinking back on it, there was another Shadow that utilized a similar spell; the color was different, though.

Armed with new knowledge, the boy demanded a Mediarama. His chest stopped aching, and he felt his arm close. Blood better not have stained his jacket. The two Shadows stood side to side, dancing upon their fingertips. Beside the boy floated the succubus. One enemy was apparently weak to fire. The other apparently had access to reflective barriers. Until the situation did not allow it, he planned to move forward utilizing these details. Charging in towards the barrier-user, he slashed into one of the finger's knuckles. Beside him, Alma Elma sent a blast of Agilao into the still-burning Shadow, blasting it back into the wall. G1, the one weak to fire, was stunned by the blast. Good enough for the boy and Alma Elma to focus on G2, the barrier-user.

From in front, the boy slashed from right to left, then reversed with a left to right. It back-stepped the first, receiving a strike from Alma's Skewer in the process, then took the second slash. It healed itself. In response, Akira sent a full-force kick with his left leg, aiming directly for the “bone” of the knuckle on a finger. It slowed the thing down for just a second, but that was long enough for its rear to be Skewered by Alma's tail again. Charging forward, the boy opened his scissors and locked them around the middle finger of the hand. The “flesh” resisted the cutting at first. But, with the increasing pressure, the flesh slowly gave way, ripping and spewing blackness. It seemed the constant flux of pain kept the Shadow from focusing on using spells. This left it open to a barrage of Skewers from behind. Its struggling slowed. Then, giving one more push, the boy severed the finger from the hand, blackness flowing from the open hole, dissolving like acid on the ground. It stumbled. Then, with a kick from Akira, it feel back, weakly squirming.

By this time, G1 was back up and angry. Then something happened. Energy surged through the chamber. It was almost like the battle against the Grim Squeaker. The sensations, though weaker, were of the same vein. And then energy exploded. Akira flew into a wall, G2 was vaporized, and Alma's right wing smacked the crossdresser in the face. Turnabout was fair play, it seemed. Still against the wall, the boy just pointed at the Shadow, smirking slightly. It was all alone. There was no salvation for it. The end? The end had come.

”Agilao, Alma Elma!” He called before pushing himself up, prepping the scissors. The hand, though burning, flew at the boy, fully intent on grinding him against the wall. He rolled along the surface of the wall, feeling the it shudder as the hand impacted the surface. ”Again! End it!” He called, a fourth Agilao exploding into the Shadow and putting it down. The battle was over. The boy, panting slightly, looked around. Gold Shadows must've meant gold, right?

[ChromaticTruthsayer]

Success!

You defeated the enemy!
You also found: Way more money than you really need.

[Akira Nakajima]

Money. Pools of money. One day, an honest-to-God pool filled with paper bills would be his. And this was just the beginning. Laughing to himself like a sort of madman that had just completed some dubious doomsday play, the youth headed towards the exit of the mines, his succubus ego floating after him. To say that he was pleased was putting it mildly. Now, the question arose of what to do with the money. Keep it and save it for the pool? Or use it for the sake of gear? Or clothes, rather?

So much money. So many things. So little time. So few truly possible outcomes. With time, though, he'd decide on something.