Fatty's mind was abnormally clear.
Wait!
A mech?
The Berserker?
Fatty's expression became incredibly vivid.
That oversized, painted shot put was a mech?
What kind of cosmic joke was this?
Brother Fatty liked the kind of domineering mech that was wild, cool, flashy, and badass.
The kind of defensive demolition mech that could run without worry, attack without concern, and ambush people when it had nothing better to do.
Preferably with a pair of stylish wings...
Young Master Harry was filled with grief and indignation.
What use was a ball-shaped mech?
If he wanted to run, did this thing even have legs?
Don't tell him this mech got around by rolling.
He couldn't afford that kind of humiliation.
"Get out here, you fat bastard!"
The people outside were already growing increasingly agitated.
"Fuck!"
One man raised his rifle butt and smashed it heavily against the mech's surface.
With a loud clang, Fatty inside jolted violently.
"Vice Captain, the man inside won't come out. Come, come, come..."
The mercenary who had just struck it turned to speak, but the moment he opened his mouth, an electric current surged across the amber-colored metal sphere.
Crackle.
Caught off guard, the man's stylish center-parted hair was electrocuted into spiky upright strands! His eyes rolled back nonstop.
Even the final word, "come," repeated more than a dozen times in an instant.
Luckily, someone beside him noticed something was wrong and hurriedly kicked his teammate away.
The combat boots made of composite fiber were insulators, protecting the man who kicked him from being shocked as well.
"Ah..."
The rescued man lay on the ground, staring blankly at the sky as a wisp of black smoke drifted from his mouth.
"This metal ball is electrified!" he finally managed to say, only to be met with looks