Severe Person

First things first, let me run through what I know.

In terms of actual skill, he has none.

The guy has practically no idea how to fight. His posture is shit, where his eyes focus is shit, and his strikes are shit too.

Next.

In terms of ability, it seems he can turn off what I'll call 'metal skin' at will. It seems reactive, yes. But if I remember correctly, it was only up to a certain point that it came to action. So either he manually willed it into existence, or it came to be after a threshold of pain/damage or something along those lines.

With that out of the way, what can I do?

My arms are longer than his, so I should be able to out-strike him, logically.

Mulling that over, I step forward, making sure not to flex my knee.

I then jab with a right straight.

Hah.

Stopping just short of his face, I notice the same metal coat covering it.

Damn. What a nice skill to have. Shame it's on such a churl as himself.

"Hehehehehehe." He scratches his face, amused. "Afraid to hurt your little fingers?"

"Honestly. Isn't this a little unfair? Relying on bioware and cybernetics to enhance your skin?"

In trying to rid what little doubts I had left, I threw out a baseless accusation. Hoping that with his ego, he'll try to defend himself, offering up the truth with it.

"Shut up. As if what I have can be bought with money!"

Nice. Very direct and straight to the point. No intellectually motivated rejection or defence offered; I'll take it.

"We-".

While I'm mid-sentence, my enemy rushes forward.

"Tch."

My instinct springs into full gear. On instinct, my right leg kicks. Thud.

Contact is made—right foot against the knee.

A wobble. His leg trembles under the weight of my attack.

Feeling something too hard to be flesh under my foot, I dash back, keeping my distance from him.

"Heh."

So, I've established something new. Irrespective of the durability, his weight remains the same.

That's great.

If I can get the lad into a grapple, I should be able to beat him. As long as I can keep his mouth open, I could attempt a few things. Maybe rip out his tongue, or force him to choke on his own vomit, to name a few. After all, who's to say he's durable on the inside, right?

"GRAGHH!"

Suddenly he lunges forward again. Striking with a haphazard haymaker.

I’m feeling ecstatic. Bearing witness to such inferiority is a thrill.

I know I’m better than them. I know I can utterly annihilate this churl.

Thoughts of that blaze through my mind, pumping the blood harder and faster through my body. Within that moment, an idea takes over me. A ploy if you will. A callback to something I do love pulling off.

I let my instinct take over.

My body loosens up. My heart beats harder than ever. And my hips, moving forward into position, brings me into a jump.

Everything happens in an instant.

In a second, my legs wrap around his neck and left arm.

We then tumble to the ground.

Him on his knees and me on my back.

Without further ado, I rotate 90 degrees, moving into position to hug his leg with one arm.

There's a struggle. A desperate clamour from his side to break free, an energetic flail of his last unbound left arm at my face.

Good. Struggle more. I like that expression of yours, those hopeless pungent eyes, that frantic heavy breathing, and your reddened but otherwise normal skin.

…

A dose of reality clears my mind. I drop my passion for a slight and look closely.

Despite my legs being around his neck, there's no sign of any metal protecting it. That's a tad strange, innit? At first contact, I could feel it even enveloping the surface of his skin. But now? It's all gone. Vanished into nothingness, leaving only soft tissue in its wake.

Perplexed, I tighten my triangle choke.

A few sputters of soon to be unconscious breath and that’s it.

Huh.

He just passed out. No resistance or supernatural defence to assist him either. I release my grip and pull myself up. It's all a bit peculiar.

So his body can change into metal, but only in certain instances?

Mixed in with my wonder is a tinge of disappointment. Some derelict disappointment that it was over so quickly. As it stands, though, there's still an opportunity to rectify that.

Seizing the moment, I stomp at the guy's face.

Sure enough, the same violet metal coats his skin the instant my foot comes close.

Hmm. Hold on a second.

I squat down. Out of some vague hope, I slowly reach with my hand and attempt to poke his face.

No reaction.

I then slowly reach out and in and out again.

No reaction each time.

Then, as a final test, I strike with a quick punch.

This time, his skin becomes metal again.

Bingo.

I've got your ability figured out, you rat bastard. A metallic barrier in response to fast-moving things, eh?

I keep that in mind for the future. Truth be told, me not having to rip out his tongue is for the best. Fun as that might be, it could've brought me more attention than necessary. That and well, it'll be easier to talk with him if he has a tongue.

When push comes to shove, I didn’t attack him just to enjoy myself.

Now that I know he might have an ability, things have changed. If that really is the case, I want to know how he got it and whatever other tidbit of information there is in his little skull. To that end, I reach into the inside of his jacket.

My fingers feel around for any pockets before I touch upon the abrasive texture of leather. I take it out, peer at it, and fumble some more.

And─there we go.

Inevitably I manage to get his identification card. Satisfied, I then tuck his wallet back in. I don't want him running back here to find lost weight. So, instead, I just take something far less noticeable. And something that'll help me find where he lives later.

With all that out the way, I inhale a deep breath.

The sounds of cheers work their way into my ears. I stand up in the meanwhile and raise my arms in some display of showmanship. All around me are eyes. Countless people watching, clapping, and cheering at my raw display of skill.

Damn, this feels good.

Missing out on something like this is worse than dying a virgin, I reckon. The exhilaration and excitement are incomparable. Worst part is, I had forgotten about it.

Wasted away in my apartment. Trapped in a pit of my own mediocrity.

To that, I say no more. Fuck how I was. Now it's time to move on to a new chapter. I'd decided on that a while ago, don't get me wrong, but finally fighting feels like an official closure.

Like the difference between a ceremonious marriage and the signing of official documents, one is superficial fluff, and the other the real deal.

In the meanwhile, I should probably deal with that blue menu that just appeared…