Turmoil (3)

Zager swung his broad-bladed short sword forward, and more than twenty pirates behind him charged with shouts. Their boots trampled the scattered chips across the carpet, sending them flying everywhere.

The pirate at the front swung his machete at Roy. Roy twisted aside, his Sharingan already breaking the man's movement into several frames—the blade came slashing down diagonally from the upper left, aimed between his shoulder and neck.

He shifted half a shoulder to the right, and the blade grazed past his collar. At the same time, his short sword thrust upward through the man's armpit. The pirate screamed and dropped his weapon. Roy pulled out his blade, spraying blood across the green felt of the card table, then turned as the second pirate reached him.

Mila took on three men at once. An iron hammer, a machete, and a rapier came crashing toward her from three directions.

She was a head shorter than them, but her evasions were minimal. She ducked beneath the hammer, slipped aside from the machete, and the rapier scraped past her back before stabbing into the card table.

She slipped through the gap between the three men instead of meeting them head-on. Every strike landed behind a knee, on the inside of a wrist, or at a throat.

The pirates she cut either fell or dropped their weapons. One pirate lunged from behind and grabbed her around the waist. She threw her head back, smashing the back of her skull into his nose. His nose collapsed, his arms loosened, and she drove her blade into his thigh. She shoved him away, and when she pulled the blade free, it brought out a spray of blood.

Damian stood in the center of the hall without dodging. A pirate rushed up to him, and he grabbed the man's sword wrist with one hand and the back of his waist with the other, lifting him bodily into the air.

The pirate struggled twice in midair before Damian hurled him into the two men charging from behind. All three collided and crashed onto the carpet.

He turned toward two more pirates. His sword swing was exactly like chopping firewood at the docks—from high to low. With one slash, the machete went flying, and its owner dropped to his knees.

Zager stood deep in the hall. At first, a smile still hung on his lips. A few brats—they were wrecking his establishment, not playing some childish game.

But then his smile gradually faded, and two vertical lines formed between his brows.

He saw Mila slip out from beneath one pirate's armpit, her blade already slicing open the wrist of another man gripping a weapon. He saw Roy weave back and forth using the card tables as cover, and every time he stopped, someone fell. He saw Damian walk straight toward three pirates without taking a single step back.

This was not wrecking a place. This was slaughter. His men were being slaughtered.

He drew the broad-bladed short sword from his waist.

Roy was about to rush the last pirate surrounding him when a fierce gust pressed in from the side. He instinctively stepped back. Zager's broad-bladed short sword chopped down before him, the edge grazing the tip of his nose before striking the card table.

The card table split down the middle. The green felt tore open, and wood chips flew everywhere.

Zager pulled his sword from the split tabletop and turned around. Under the chandelier's light, his eyes shone an unnatural yellow.

"Who exactly are you little brats?" His voice was far deeper than before, as though it had been squeezed up from the depths of his chest.

Damian stepped forward and shielded Roy. "Uchiha."

Zager's lips twitched. It was the expression of a hyena unconsciously curling its lips when it caught the scent of prey.

He turned the sword in his hand and strode toward Damian.

Damian met him head-on. Their blades clashed beneath the chandelier for the first time, sparks flying as both their arms recoiled half an inch from the impact.

Their strength was about equal. Damian's sword slashed diagonally from the right.

Zager blocked it aside, then swung his blade upward from below. Damian twisted away.

The two exchanged four or five blows beside the broken card table. Every strike went for a vital point, and every strike was parried.

Damian was half a head taller than Zager, with a longer reach. Every arc his sword cut extended an inch farther.

That single inch forced Zager back three steps in a row.

As Zager retreated, his eyes flicked to the side. He saw Mila slit the throat of the last pirate around her. The pirate clutched his neck and fell, twitching twice on the floor before becoming still.

Roy stood beside Mila, blood still dripping from the tip of his blade.

All his men were down. More than twenty people lay sprawled across the hall. Some were groaning, some twitching, and most were completely motionless.

He withdrew his gaze, and the expression on his face changed.

He sheathed his sword, then smiled.

His mouth split wide, revealing two rows of yellowed teeth. His canines were longer than normal, their tips gleaming wetly beneath the chandelier.

His body began to swell. His shoulders spread outward, his shoulder blades pushed out from his back, and his clothes split open in ragged tears.

His spine extended down the center of his back. His tailbone burst through the skin, extending into a grayish-brown tail. His arms grew longer, his fingers thicker, and his nails curled out from his fingertips into gray-black hooked claws.

Hair burst from beneath his skin, like an animal's mane—coarse, stiff, mottled gray and brown. It spread from his shoulders across his back, from his arms to the backs of his hands.

His chin protruded forward. His jaw cracked as it shifted out of place, his nose bridge collapsed, and his lips split apart, exposing teeth that were sharpening inside.

In only a few breaths, what stood there was no longer a man, but a half-human, half-beast monster.

It stood beside the broken card table, its back slightly hunched. Its grayish-brown mane ran from the crown of its head down its spine to its tailbone. Hooked claws hung lightly at its sides, their tips sinking into the carpet.

It opened its mouth, and a gray-pink tongue slid between its teeth to lick across its nose.

"Dog-Dog Fruit: Hyena Form." Zager's voice came from that beastly mouth, rougher and duller than a human voice, every word carrying a growl from deep in his throat. "Never seen it before, have you, brats? This is a Devil Fruit. The power of devils."

Damian's hand stopped on his sword hilt.

Devil Fruit. He had never heard that term before. Before he could make sense of it, Zager had already charged.

A hyena's legs were shorter than a human's, but their explosive force against the ground was several times greater. Zager practically skimmed along the floor, his hooked claws plowing four gashes through the carpet.

He slammed into Damian's chest. Damian felt as though an entire log had struck him in the ribs, sending him flying backward. His back smashed into a card table, overturning it and scattering chips all over the floor.

Before he could get back up, Zager's hooked claws came slamming down from above. He rolled aside, and the claws struck the carpet, tearing four furrows through it. Splinters burst from the cracked floorboards beneath.

Damian rose, holding his short sword horizontally before him. His chest felt heavy, and his ribs ached faintly whenever he drew breath.

Zager turned around on all fours, his tail sweeping once behind him.

His hooked claws swept from left to right, aimed beneath Damian's ribs. At the same time, his tail lashed from right to left, sealing off Damian's escape route in coordination with the claws.

The Sharingan could see his movements. His mind knew how to dodge, but his body could not keep up.

Damian leaped backward. The claw tips ripped open his shirt, leaving three shallow bloody marks across his chest. The tail whipped after him before he could evade again, and he could only raise his left arm to block it.

The tail struck his forearm like an iron bar. His arm went numb from elbow to fingertips.

Mila rushed in from the side. Her blade stabbed into Zager's right hind leg, piercing through mane and flesh by about two inches.

Zager roared and kicked backward with his hind leg. Mila pulled out her blade and jumped back, but the kick still caught her shoulder, sending her flying sideways into the wall.

Her back slammed into the cherrywood paneling. With a dull thud, she smashed a dent into it and slid down to the floor. Gritting her teeth, she sucked in a breath and stood again.

Roy cut in from the other side. Taking advantage of the instant Zager kicked back, he drove his short sword toward Zager's ribs. The tip pierced through the mane, but after sinking in an inch, it would not go any farther.

Zager turned and backhanded Roy across the shoulder with a hooked claw. Roy spun half a circle across the floor, his short sword flying from his hand and embedding itself in a card table several steps away.

Zager stood between the three of them, blood streaming from his hind leg and ribs.

Dark red drops fell onto the carpet and clung to his mane, but he seemed to feel nothing. His breathing grew rougher, his chest heaving violently, and his mouth spread even wider than before, like a laughing hyena.

The three regrouped into a triangle, surrounding him in the middle.

Damian flexed his numb left arm and gripped his sword hilt again.

Mila adjusted her reverse grip on the short sword, its point facing outward.

Roy pulled his blade free and twisted his fingers around the hilt, wiping the sweat from his palm.

Damian moved first. He rushed in head-on, his short sword slashing toward Zager's neck.

Zager raised his left claw to block. Damian used the force to spin in the opposite direction, his blade arcing down at Zager's right knee. Zager's tail lashed over, and Damian ducked beneath it.

Mila attacked from behind at the same time. As her short sword stabbed into his lower back, Zager backhanded her sword arm with a hooked claw. A three-inch claw mark opened across her arm, blood running down her forearm and into her sleeve.

She stabbed him once more before letting go of the blade and retreating. Roy lunged in as Zager arched backward, driving his short sword into Zager's right shoulder.

Zager roared and shook his body. Roy was flung away, rolling across the carpet several times before stopping. When he struggled to rise, his left leg was weak beneath him.

Damian and Mila retreated to Roy's side. All three were breathing raggedly, their chests heaving as blood seeped from their wounds.

Zager stood amid the wreckage of the card tables, covered in wounds, yet seemingly numb to them all. He stepped forward.

The fingers gripping the three swords tightened.

Damian and Mila continued to engage Zager while Roy leaned against an overturned card table. Blood ran down his left leg, soaking into the carpet and disappearing into the dark red.

His hands formed seals rapidly before his chest—Rat, Tiger, Dog, Ox, Rabbit, Tiger. The six seals took less than two seconds, his fingers leaving afterimages in the air. Chakra rose from his lower abdomen, passed through his chest, and gathered in his throat. His cheeks puffed out.

"Move!"

Damian and Mila leaped aside at the same time. They had been fighting Zager at close range, their bodies blocking his view. When they jumped away, he saw Roy standing there and the firelight in Roy's mouth. His pupils shrank. He had not anticipated what would happen in that instant.

Six fireballs burst from Roy's mouth—orange-red Phoenix Flower Fire, each the size of a fist. They scattered through the air and flew toward Zager along six different paths.

The flames illuminated the casino hall's domed ceiling, and the glass chandelier swayed gently in the heated currents. Zager tried to retreat, but the fireballs had already sealed off every direction around him.

All six fireballs struck him at once—his chest, shoulders, back, and hind legs.

The moment the fire touched his mane, it began to burn. The grayish-brown hair curled and blackened in the orange flames, turning to charcoal as flesh sizzled beneath the fire.

Zager roared and rolled across the floor, his tail beating the carpet and his hooked claws tearing wildly at it, shredding the patterned dark-red fabric to pieces. The fire continued to burn.

The flames spread from his mane to his clothes, then from his clothes to his arms, wrapping his entire body into a rolling fireball.

Damian gripped his short sword tightly. The fireball rolled across the floor, and the roars within it grew increasingly muffled.

Damian stepped toward the fireball, intending to finish him.

The fireball suddenly exploded.

Zager shot out of the flames, his mane still burning and half his body scorched black.

He no longer roared or screamed. The only sound from his mouth was a low, hissing whine—the sound of a hyena driven into a corner.

He pushed off with his still mostly intact left hind leg. His entire body became a flaming arrow as he lunged toward Mila.

Mila's right arm was still bleeding. She tightened her grip on her sword and tried to dodge sideways, but her injured arm delayed her leap by half a beat. Zager's hooked claws were already raised, their tips aimed at her face.

Even if he died, he would take one of them with him.

Three gunshots exploded through the hall.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Zager's body jerked three times in midair. A blood blossom burst from his throat, another from his chest, and the bloody handprint on his forehead was pierced through by the third bullet. It tore out through the back of his skull, spraying bone fragments and brain matter across the cherrywood wall panels.

He collapsed before Mila, less than an arm's length from her sword tip. The flames burned away the last tuft of mane, leaving faint wisps of smoke rising from his charred flesh.

Damian and Mila turned toward the source. At some point, Barlow had appeared in the shadows along the side of the hall.

His left hand clamped tightly around Melton's nape. Melton knelt on the floor, his three-piece suit crumpled like a bundle of rags. His face was expressionless, and there was no light in his eyes.

Barlow held a musket in his right hand, its muzzle still faintly smoking.

He leaned against the edge of the shadows, lifting the muzzle slightly as the corner of his mouth rose.

"Roy, this thing is a lot more useful than Ninjutsu."