Chapter 8

Later…..

The remaining survivors stood there wearily, looking down at the bodies of their dead comrades. In the beginning, they had over a hundred, all marching towards the same goal, freedom. Then, the Doctor came, and in an instant, they had been reduced to around thirty. And now, with this battle, many more of their comrades had been slaughtered, leaving the D-Class with eleven. Five of them were injured, and one was severely injured. The rest were unscathed, as they had been the ones to close the Gate.

"Damn it…. If only we had more time…." Slamming his hand against the wall, Jason growled.

"We tried our best man…. It's a miracle this many even survived." Benedict said, wincing a bit in pain. He had been shot in the stomach, though no vital organs had been injured.

Arjun stayed silent, wrapping his leg in bandages. Two bullets had gone through his calf.

Jason reloaded his gun menacingly, staring at the bloody ground in contemplation before he spoke:

"We don't have much time. Though our comrades have died, we still need to get the hell out of this shithole!"

The rest of the D-Class nodded, reloading their weapons, and tending to injuries.

Benedict stared at the Elevator. This was their only way out of here. WIth the Peanut's location unknown and the chance of some still living Nine-Tails, they would need to risk taking the elevator.

"Damn it. We used up all the exploding grenades on the Doctor's." Arjun said, his face contorted into a hateful frown.

"Should we use flashbangs?" Benedict asked.

Jason shook his head, clearing his throat:

"Too risky. We might blind ourselves, and we still don't know how many people are up there."

A short woman with chestnut brown hair spoke up, wiping some blood from her cheek:

"What about the pouch?"

Jason and Arjun turned to each other, before turning back.

The group of D-Class whispered and contemplated, trying to go as quickly as possible. They didn't hesitate at this moment. Reinforcements would arrive if they relaxed and rested.

"It seems that is our best bet." Shrugging, Jason materialized the pouch. He walked over, near the Gate. "Well, here goes nothing….."

The rest of the D-Class stared on, their eyes red and determined.

Taking the small brown pouch, Jason opened it, spilling something on the ground. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Jason widened his eyes, cursing as he flipped back, running towards the rest of the D-Class.

*Thooom!!!!*

What seemed to be a giant blue tractor landed at the location where he was just standing. It was rusty and the paint was fading, with worn tires and a low groaning engine. If he hadn't gotten back, Jason might have been squished alive…. Dust rose into the air.

"Urk. That seems dangerous."

"F*ck."

"Bad draw."

The tone and buzz of the D-Class were much more muted now, with many sighs and groans. In contrast to the joy and heated ferocity from before, the survivors were drenched in sorrow. All they wanted to do, was go home and sit down. Have some coffee. And baguettes.

Jason reached into the pouch this time. He found that when he tried to dump something, the object was usually bigger, and possibly more dangerous. The ones he dumped were usually also of higher reward. When he reached into the pouch, he could procure some random crap that was…. Sometimes useful?

Grasping something, he frowned. It was roughly textured, ragged and hard, somewhat like a stick. Maybe a wooden handle? Taking it out, Jason was greeted with a long burning torch, the flames flickering and smoking. Waving his hand, he turned to the pile of corpses. Should he cremate them? He had a torch after all….

Handing the torch to a random D-Class, he continued on. This time, it was something small. Cold and most likely made of metal…. With extremities? Maybe one of those mechanical stuffed animals? What were they called again?

Taking it out, Jason widened his eyes, looking at the thing before him. It was a robotic octopus? Hm. Seemed sort of familiar. Mostly painted purple, the robot possessed eight "legs", and a cylinder-like mouth.

Ripping off the sticky note, he read the description slowly.

[Mini Octotank No. 8]

[Description: It's an octopus robot created by the prodigious S-Class Hero, Child Emperor. Despite its cheerful and pleasant exterior, this highly mobile and deadly robot is quite the killer. Completly bullet-proof and partially blast-proof, this tank shoots self-generated laser bullets that can tear through solid metal. It won't stop until anything targeted has stopped breathing. Voice-controlled. Solar-powered.]

"F*ck." Jason cursed in amazement. If he had this thing before… Then the situation would be vastly different. Then…. Many people wouldn't have died.

Meanwhile, the rest of the D-Class stared at him awkwardly. One of their leaders seemed to be amazed over…. A robotic toy octopus?

Wordlessly, Jason walked over and slapped the sticky note into Arjun's hands. The rest crowded around and read through the sticky note, before looking back at the robot in horror.

Coughing, Jason said: "How about we send the robot up there and give the Nine-Tails hell. Then we go up the elevator too. The best plan I could think of."

"Sure."

"Fine by me."

"Hope that octopus is reliable."

"If this doesn't work out, I'm blaming you."

Jason nodded. Walking next to the elevator, he deposited the Octopus inside. It rolled forwards on its eight tentacle-like legs, whirring and beeping.

"Mini Octotank! Please go up there….. And eliminate every single person you see…." He said with malicious intent, clenching his fist.

Slamming the elevator button, it closed the Octopus off to the surface.

"So, should we cremate our friends…..?" Shaking, a nervous D-Class held the torch, smoke still billowing up. He seemed to not have a very good affinity with fire, as his hands were shaking about.

"That is quite an abrupt question."

"Really…."

"F*ck yes."

Benedict, Jason, and Arjun nodded in confirmation. They lined up solemnly. The pyrophobic D-Class handed Benedict the torch. Clearing his throat, Jason's scar-faced friend spoke in his baritone voice sorrowfully. In the background, the tractor sat there, smoking slightly.

"My friends…. I honestly can't come up with any dramatic speech. Not much of a speaker." Benedict scratched his head. "And I doubt our fallen friends will want a grand speech or anything. So, let them rest in peace. Now, be purged!!!!"

With a resounding bow, he threw the flaming torch forwards. It fell upon the pile of orange corpses, lighting it aflame. Smoke billowed and the fire roared and crackled, with the D-Class stepping back.

"Carbon monoxide poisoning anyone?"

"Yessir…"

"F*ck."