章 103: Blackhand vs Blackhand I

"Shit!" was the only word that escaped Sora's lips as he plunged downward. In that instant, the nanobots on his spine illuminated, slowing down his perception of time and allowing him to act in that brief moment.

With a swift motion, Sora retracted the remaining cable into his cybernetic arm and, with a sharp flick of his wrist, switched the cable end with one of the various hooks stored within his arm. Shooting his grapple again towards the nearest surface as fast as he could, but before the hook could separate from him by even a meter, another precise shot severed the cable once more.

Frustrated by the situation, Sora directed his gaze toward the end of the street where his enigmatic attacker stood. Dressed in a high-collared black trench coat and a cowboy hat that concealed the rest of his face. He appeared to have empty hands, but in reality, he drew, fired, and holstered his weapon so quickly that he almost seemed disarmed before the bullet reached its target.

Sora "Tch" clicked his tongue in displeasure before attempting to halt his fall once again. With a fluid motion of his entire body, he faced his attacker in the air, retracting the cable once more and switching hooks in his cybernetic arm. Simultaneously, with his left arm, he drew his JKE-X2 Kenshin electromagnetic pistol from his hip.

Pulling the trigger, he charged the electromagnetic coil of his pistol for a precious instant he couldn't afford to waste while still falling. As he released the trigger, despite his coils being barely charged...

He fired three thunderous supersonic bullets that tore through the air, reaching Mach 3 and soaring at 1180 m/s accompanied by an electrical discharge from the barrel of the gun. Sora while firing, simultaneously moved his right arm, hoping to use his grapple while his attacker defended himself against the gunfire...

However, things didn't go according to plan. As the enigmatic individual saw the approaching bullets, he blurred his arms, quickly tucking them under his coat and drawing two new revolvers with open side barrels. The revolvers rapidly filled with electricity, and without the need to load their bullets, he fired directly at Sora's supersonic bullets with his own.

When the projectiles met, they created brilliant sparks that filled the air in front of him. The dazzling spark explosions were significant enough to attract the attention of bewildered passersby on the street, who could clearly hear the shots but couldn't see any weapons... until now, prompting them to flee with screams through the alleys of Urmland Street.

Contrary to Sora, his attacker didn't just fire three times. With a fourth bullet, once again severing Sora's grapple cable, making him sigh resignedly at the attacker's persistent attempts to make him fall.

Tired of playing his game, Sora muttered, "Fuck it," deciding to take more extreme measures. He reached under his jacket, retrieving a small black sphere smaller than his fist, and hurled it directly at the attacker. However, before the attacker could react, Sora shot directly.... at the grenade he had just thrown, which was practically in front of him.

The resulting explosion ignited the oxygen around it, generating a powerful blaze that instantly engulfed Sora before violently vomiting/propelling him in the opposite direction of the explosion, toward the narrow section of the street filled with metal awnings and air machines protruding from the facades.

He crashed violently against each protrusion he encountered during his uncontrolled descent, uttering an "Ouch!" with each impact. Gradually slowing down, he eventually landed flat on the ground, accompanied by some air machines and metal plates that joined him in his fall.

Sora lifted his painful and smoking body, shaking the dust off his scorched and battered clothes. The tremendous impact and explosion had damaged his helmet, leaving one of the blue eyes of his helmet, blinking due to the large crack on the front part.

But that injured and battered version of Sora changed when he lifted his gaze and locked eyes with his attacker. To the attacker's surprise, he saw Sora's clothes repairing themselves, and not only his clothes, but the large crack on his helmet also filled in, leaving him fully recovered and glaring intensely with the two bright blue lines in his helmet, appearing angry, while he was still emitting some smoke from the burns on his body, which his nanobots were gradually healing.

---

A few moments earlier

"What will you do, kid?" Morgan wondered as he fired for the third time at the grapple cable, after defending himself from Musashi's grandson's shots. He had only about 20-30 meters left before crashing to the ground.

"Morgan" could feel the murderous intent emanating from the nearby alley, coming from Musashi, who was restraining himself from intervening, as he saw "Morgan" using surprise attacks and being tougher than necessary with his grandson in a sparring match by making him fall from that height.

"Heh, sorry, old friend, but I have to be firm with your grandson. If I return to the base and she finds out that I haven't made him pay, even a little, for hacking Lazarus, she'll do something herself... Trust me, it's better that I do it instead of her. Besides, when we were young, we fell from greater heights under worse circumstances than these. Let's see what you've taught your grandson and if he can keep fighting after such a fall... also... betting against me, you Hatake brothers are too naive," "Morgan" thought, momentarily distracted, looking at the alley.

He was taken aback when he refocused on Musashi's grandson and the extreme measure he had taken to escape "Morgan's" game. Throwing a black sphere at him, but before "Morgan" could shoot it down, "the grandson" did it himself, getting consumed by the explosion of his own grenade.

Leaving "Morgan" incredulous, watching the boy "stop" his fall by crashing into any protrusion he found until finally landing flat on the ground, getting up shortly after as if nothing had happened and dusting off his battered body.

Making "Morgan" smirk behind the collar of his coat at the absurd and foolish idea the "boy" had carried out. But his smile was interrupted when the "boy" raised his equally battered helmet and stared intently at him, holding his gaze at him for a few instants, until Morgan finally realized it, leaving him speechless.

Watching startled, how his jacket, full of holes and tears from the explosion, and his dented and burnt armor recovered itself, it wasn't just that— Even the large crack in his helmet also filled in. Looking fully recovered within a few seconds, with the blue eyes of his helmet glowing brightly staring at "Morgan".

Who was wanting to turn his head and look at Musashi in the alley, seeking an answer to what his grandson was doing... but he refrained due to his instinct, which was screaming at him to be cautious—the same instinct that always screamed at him when facing someone truly dangerous, like the Hatake brothers, or... someone like Smasher.

Causing Morgan's desire to turn his head towards the alley to increase even more to find out what those two demonic brothers had done to evoke such a sense of danger in him... By a boy younger than 20 years old.

"Dirty Harry... I don't know who the hell you are or why you attacked me... but I swear you're going to regret it," Sora said with a cold, distorted voice, standing in front of "Morgan" about 30 meters (100 ft) apart.

"You can try, but I don't think you can, kid. Tell me, do you want me to leave you half dead, or should I give you another grenade so you can do it yourself?" Morgan replied, pulling back both sides of his coat, revealing his belt and legs, which were full of weapons. His belt alone carried 5 pairs of handguns, mostly revolvers, and on each of his thighs, he had 3 more pairs arranged in custom holsters, with the three handguns stacked on top of each other, taking advantage of their "L" shape.

The two faced each other, separated by 30 meters (100 ft), staring at each other without either of them moving, until a metal plate from the protrusions Sora had forcibly used to slow his fall, fell, filling the silence of the street with the sound of metal hitting the ground.

Without either of them reacting... until the metal plate stopped shaking on the ground, at that instant... They both acted in the same way, drawing their weapons and firing at each other, in the opposite direction.

Sora reached under his jacket with one hand and behind his hip with the other, drawing his two customized Nue's. Morgan drew his two Overtures, two Power Revolvers manufactured by Malorian Arms from his belt.

Firing simultaneously, both bullets cut through the air and met exactly 15 meters (50 ft) from each of them, creating explosions of sparks upon collision. It was no coincidence that when they fired again, their bullets clashed in mid-air again. Although their shots seemed simultaneous, there was a slight difference between them.

Sora was the first to shoot, and Morgan responded by shooting at Sora's bullet. In the next round, the situation reversed, with Morgan shooting first and Sora defending himself by shooting at Morgan's projectile. This strange balance of shots continued, adding a third, a fourth, a fifth, and so on, until the twelfth round, where Sora increased the pace of his shots.

Morgan couldn't help but smile beneath the collar of his coat at the attempt of Musashi's grandson to pressure him, thinking he had emptied the chambers of his revolvers. "Like your grandfather... too innocent, kid," Morgan thought as he lowered the hammers of his revolvers, activating the second striker to fire the seventh bullet located in the center of the revolver's cylinder. Unlike the other .42 caliber bullets, this seventh bullet was .50 caliber.

With a swift motion, Morgan fired two powerful .50 caliber bullets through the secondary barrel located below the main barrel of his customized Overtures revolvers. Breaking the balance of the exchange of shots, when the .50 caliber bullets collided with Sora's bullets, shattering them, without stopping or even changing their trajectory. This forced Sora to focus on deflecting the approaching .50 caliber bullets, losing his opportunity to force Morgan.

Meanwhile, Morgan opened the empty cylinders of his revolvers and holstered them. The cylinders entered the slots on the upper part of Morgan's belt, reloading before being holstered in a fluid motion, and then drawing two new Overture revolvers that were practically identical to the previous ones.

Quickly firing them at Musashi's grandson, who, when enough eyes were hovering in the area, radically changed his movements, charging directly towards Morgan while emptying the few bullets left in his Nue's.

When he ran out of bullets to defend himself from Morgan's shots... Sora skillfully dodged them, not missing a single move from Morgan as the Fool`s crows flew over the area. Sora holstered his empty Nue's and reached behind his hip, grabbing the scabbard of Getsuga.

Pulling the trigger of Getsuga's scabbard, causing the sword to be unsheathed in a shower of sparks as it was forcefully ejected from its scabbard. With a firm grip, Sora smoothly swung the sword, following through with the momentum of Getsuga's fierce unsheathing. Executing a fluid strike that cleanly sliced through Morgan's incoming shots in one swift motion

Watching Sora's movements as he cut through the bullets, Morgan felt a nostalgic spark in his eyes, reminding him of Musashi when he was young and the dangerous feeling his sword conveyed. Remembering that, Morgan smiled, acknowledging the young man's skill before him.

But...

"Sorry, kid, but if that's all... maybe you could have taken me fifty years ago." This reminiscence made Morgan become serious, leaving his smile behind. In a quick gesture, he fully opened his coat, revealing the walking arsenal he was, with several more weapons in holsters under his arms, including one over his chest. The visible interior of his coat was equally impressive, filled with weapons and unassembled firearm parts.

But the most impressive of all was his arms, which seemed to come to life on their own. Especially his "black" left arm, starting to shoot with different weapons simultaneously, drawing and sheathing them with blinding speed, and even throwing them in the air to catch them and use them again when they fell.

But these juggling acts were not just for show; each movement had a purpose. Like a director conducting a dangerous symphony, with the instruments being his weapons and the bullets the notes. Creating a striking image that even surprised Sora, unable to believe that a human could shoot like that, as if he had dozens of arms firing dozens of weapons at once, all with precise and rapid shots... demonstrating why "Morgan Blackhand" is considered the best living shooter.

And that wasn't all. Most of Morgan's shots were not aimed directly at Sora. They were ricochet shots, changing trajectory after hitting a surface and then heading towards the young swordsman. That was just the beginning; with the constant weapon changes, Morgan also varied the type of ammunition he fired.

Morgan had memorized every type of bullet and the order in which he fired them, creating dangerous combinations of trick shots. Using bullets with less gunpowder and reduced velocity to create dangerous situations by changing their trajectory and speed after being hit by a subsequent shot. He even made use of ricochet shots, changing direction to hit the slow bullets, creating even more unpredictable and dangerous shots.

This barrage of bullets with diverse and uncertain trajectories overwhelmed Sora and his nanobots, who were unable to track and predict the trajectory of all of Morgan's trick shots. As a result, Sora was forced to interrupt his charge and retreat to gain space to react to the shots.

Focusing on evading and cutting the shots, Sora ended up in a passive position where he could only defend himself, knowing that if he didn't do something, he would lose, as he gradually accumulated wounds all over his body from being unable to fully follow Morgan's frenzied and unpredictable shots.

Sora took a deep breath, preparing himself for the consequences. Then, at will, he directed his nanobots towards his nerves and muscles, overloading his nervous system and reaction time as much as possible. Instantly, he noticed how the slow-motion world, where each of his movements left a trail of himself, slowed down even further, entering an almost static realm, where the chaotic shots from Morgan that harassed him, seemed to be frozen in this timeless world.

Feeling the weight of being able to perceive this static world, with the nerves in his spine on fire and his brain feeling overloaded. Sora forced his body to move, transforming into a shapeless dark blur, even for those still capable of seeing him through a Sandervista, like Morgan and the two brothers observing from the alley.

Taking advantage of his speed, he managed to dodge most of the projectiles, but due to the overwhelming sensation in his current state, he couldn't completely avoid the wall of bullets that separated him from Morgan. Nonetheless, Sora gritted his teeth, and broke through the wall of bullets, getting close enough to Morgan to enter the range of his sword.

However, getting closer to Morgan and breaking through his wall of bullets, It abruptly shattered his static perception of time, leaving him injured with several shots piercing his left shoulder and torso. His helmet also took a hit, resulting in one of its front parts breaking, leaving his right eye blackened with his pupils shining exposed.

Despite his condition, Sora clenched his teeth even harder, compelling his body and nanobots to gather all their strength and release it in a powerful vertical strike towards Morgan. But just as Sora lowered his sword, savoring victory, Morgan's final shots ricocheted several times, hitting Getsuga from behind. This caused Sora to lose control of his sword, which slipped from his hands and became embedded in a nearby facade.

Caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events, Sora's reaction momentarily slowed down, and Morgan took advantage of it to calmly place the barrel of his weapon against Sora's head, smiling arrogantly, believing he had won. Slowly, he pulled the trigger, but before he could shoot, Sora moved swiftly and employed the close-quarters combat techniques (CQC) he had developed with his grandfather and uncle, striking Morgan's arm joint and redirecting his gun under his jaw.

Both of them locked eyes for a moment, before Sora forcefully pressed Morgan's finger on the trigger, surprising Morgan, who was shooting himself. However, instead of blood and cries of pain, the sound of an empty shot echoed without a bullet.

Confusing Sora, who stared disconcerted at Morgan because of the blank round, while Morgan, on his part, stared at Sora, surprised by his willingness to kill him with his own weapon in cold blood, had it not been for the blank round. Morgan had intended to use a blank round to demonstrate his victory without resorting obviously to lethal force, unlike Musashi's grandson, who seemed eager to kill him for real.

In the next instant, Sora recovered from his confusion before Morgan recovered from his surprise, swiftly moving his hand to lower the hammer of Morgan's revolver still under his jaw and making it fire again without hesitation.

Forcing Morgan to react if he didn't want to lose his head, he quickly tilted his head backward, evading the shot. At that moment, he nervously headbutted Sora to regain control of his arm and weapon, pushing him back.

Sora took a step back, following the momentum of the blow, rotating on his rear foot, while his right cybernetic arm slid under his jacket and drew his Malorian Arms 3516, pointing it at Morgan's face, just as Morgan did the same, grabbing the pistol from his chest and aiming his Colt AMT Model 2000 at Sora's head.

Both wore serious expressions on their faces, with no hat on Morgan's head, lost during his swift headbutt to remove the dangerous grandson of Musashi who moved like a snake in close-quarters combat, and almost killed him with his own weapon. Pausing their frenzied confrontation, with both having their guns pointed at each other's heads.