Your report was timely—just after I had fully understood the situation.
The leaders of the Big Hand Funeral Home and the organ-trafficking assassination group had failed in their attempt to kill Oran, but the slaughter aboard the ship had not stopped. The other assassins still did not know how the battle here had progressed and continued carrying out their orders according to plan.
Clack.
Frankenstein pulled the scythe still lodged in her chest free. Then, as the Absorb-Absorb Fruit converted energy, her damaged mechanical wound began visibly healing, and before long, it had fully recovered.
Aside from the blood on her face, dried black by lightning, and her damaged clothing, Frankenstein bore almost no wounds from the battle.
"Father, they're all dealt with."
"You did well. But Fran, fighting with your brain doesn't mean headbutting people. You misunderstood that saying a little."
"Didn't it work out well?"
Frankenstein stood before Oran with both hands behind her back and her head tilted. Without having witnessed the earlier battle, no one could have imagined the violent power hidden within her body.
However, Frankenstein did not think she had done anything wrong. She even thought it was a fine tactic.
Neither her head nor her chest was a fatal weakness. As long as the core inside her warhammer remained undamaged, even if she were reduced to a single screw, she could repair herself through energy conversion.
If she wanted, Frankenstein could even remove her own head and use it as a toy.
In a sense, Frankenstein truly had been fighting with her brain. She had exploited the blind spot in Piekro's intelligence to deceive him, using a seemingly bizarre suicidal attack to lure Piekro into a position he could not evade.
But judging by Frankenstein's expression, she clearly had not thought that far