Tiffany moved like a crimson blur, sticking to the high ground of the trees. She followed the sense of bloodlust mixed with the pungent odor of blood. As she reached the end of the tree line, she slowed to a stop. Peering around a tree, she spied the source of the smell and bloodlust. She quickly maneuvered around the treeline, positioning herself to get the drop on the figure.

  Squatting down, she leapt high, silently dropping behind the suited figure. Without a word, she sprang up to execute a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. He blocked her boot with a single index finger, the sudden stop of impact from her kick causing a burst of wind that ruffled his blazer and shifted his glasses. Still blocking her boot, he adjusted his glasses with his other hand.

  "My, what a wonderful breeze on such a cool and calm night," he said with a smile.

  "Ah, Ms. Taylor, you stopped by sooner than expected. Your strength almost rivals your beauty." He smirked. "I didn’t expect someone from the Board of Building Committee to be so... athletic. I assume you're also the one who dispatched my underlings?"

  Before gravity had a chance to take effect, Tiff shifted her body weight, repelling off his finger. She rebounded and landed what she thought was a safe distance away. He glanced at his wristwatch to check the time.

  "As much of a joy as it is to watch your glorious *assets* move in that beautiful dress, I'm afraid my time here is limited. You have five minutes and forty-five seconds of my time left."

  "That's more than enough time for me to kick your scrawny ass!"

  "Oh! Spicy and top-heavy! I don't suppose we can just skip all of this and you come work for me, hmm?"

  Tommy wore a warmer, cheesy grin as he winked at Tiff. Though it was certainly more welcoming than the overly creepy, carved one she usually saw on his face, it still made her skin crawl.

  "How about instead you come peacefully, and you might have a chance at a plea deal if the GSA deems your intel valuable," Tiffany spat back.

  She tossed her bag to the side and assumed a Kokutsu-dachi defense stance, squatting low with her feet spread apart. The tension in her legs anchored her steady posture. Her right hand was palm-up and tucked at her midsection, while her left hand extended outward, palm-down. The air seemed to grow heavier with her stillness.

  "Ah, so you're with those less-than-desirables. Whatever they're paying you, I can triple it, no questions asked. You can be my right hand," Tommy said, circling his hand in a matter-of-fact way.

  "No thanks. I've heard where that hand has been," Tiffany growled, trying to sound intimidating.

  "A shame," Tommy said, glancing down at his watch again. "We need to wrap this up soon; our time together is about to expire. You can come at me any way you choose—I'll let you try again if you wish." He adjusted the cuffs on his dress shirt, a smug grin creeping onto his face. "I do suggest you give it your all this time, though."

  Tiff couldn’t pass up the offer. Still holding her defensive pose, she loosened up slightly, her right hand slipping to her side. At the twitch of her finger, a blade shot out from her boot leg. In one fluid motion, she swung her arm around, launching her kunai in a blur toward Tommy.

  Tommy's hand shifted to his clawed animal variant while still in his pocket. In the blink of an eye, he snatched the blade midair, just in front of his chest. Twirling it effortlessly by the ring in the hilt, he flung it downward, lodging it deep in the hardened clay. Then, pressing his foot against the kunai, he drove it further into the ground, burying it past the ringed hilt.

  As Tommy looked up, Tiffany had already launched herself into the air. By the time he noticed her, she was within striking distance, her other blade clutched in both hands and poised to strike him between the eyes. At the last millisecond, he caught her short sword-sized knife between his curved, clawed thumb and index finger.

  "That's a nice knife," he commented, his tone genuinely intrigued as he took his time admiring the craftsmanship of the metalworking and rune carvings. He seemed completely unbothered by the fact that Tiff still held the other end.

  "I'm impressed. How did you find a smith still talented in rune magic and Dracan metalwork in this day and age? It's practically a lost art."

  "Why would I tell you anything of the sort?! You couldn’t care less about the craftsmanship! All you care about is having people enslaved to work for you!" Tiff snarled, her heels digging into his chest as she struggled to free the blade from his grasp. But her efforts worked against her.

  As Tommy began to squeeze the blade between his clawed fingers, the runes on the knife glowed brighter—almost blindingly bright. His claws melted into the metal as if it were putty. The burning brightness faded, and as it dimmed, the metal began to crack. Moments later, the blade shattered into pieces.

  Tiff’s heart sank, as broken as her kunai sword now lying in a small pile on the ground below.

  She stood there, stunned, the emptiness washing over her like a tidal wave, until Tommy's words snapped her out of it.

  "I know you're not really Ms. Taylor. You wouldn’t happen to really be Ms. Rafuros, would you?" He asked, glancing at his watch again. This time, he tapped the screen and circled his finger around the display. *Restricted chip present: Shutdown Y/N?* read the illuminated text on his watch.

  "Well, that solves that mystery," Tommy muttered, tapping the shutdown icon on his watch.

  In a fit of blind rage, she dashed at him with everything she had, leaping up and punching him square in the nose, shattering his glasses. It was odd—despite her hits being at almost full strength, it felt like punching an unmoving steel wall.

  Tiff unleashed a flurry of kicks and punches, but Tommy didn't even flinch. If anything, he looked bored and unamused. He just stood there with his hands in his pants pockets, the handle of her shattered kunai lying at his feet.

  "Why won't you just die!?!" Tiff irately asked, *It feels like I've thrown everything at him and not a scratch!* she thought to herself as she landed on the ground, jumped up above him, and performed a somersault drop kick, landing squarely on the top of his bald head, doubling him over.

  *Got'em*! she thought, doing celebratory hand pumps in her head, until he grabbed her leg and smashed her face-first into the hard clay earth, before tossing her aside like a rag doll.

  She bounced across the ground, landing on her back and leaving a shallow trench as she skidded through the clearing, finally stopped at the base of a tree.

  Gasping for breath, she looked up in horror as he wasted no time. Before she could fully grasp what was happening, he was already straddling her, pinning her to the ground.

  His balled-up fist looked as if it were suddenly coated with mercury, taking on a liquid appearance that hardened just before crashing down on her face like a sledgehammer, delivering blow after blow. Each impact made a disturbing *tink, tink, tunk, crack... crunch...plat*, followed by the cracking of bone and the wet sound of torn flesh. Her nose, jaw, and other bones shattered, causing blood to pour from her wounds. Every punch drove her deeper into the hardened, blood-soaked clay dirt. He pulled her face close and whispered with a smirk in her ear:

  "Nanomachines, Mi'lady. Very expensive." He clenched his steely morphed fist, flexing it in front of her face. "And, you can't hurt me." With one final punch, he drove her skull deep enough to unsettle the tree, causing it to topple toward them.

  Tommy hopped up nonchalantly, stepping aside and letting the tree crash down on his opponent. As he walked away, he glanced at his watch. *Chip disabled and inactive.* He swiped across the glass, looking at the timer. "Hmm, not bad. I still have a minute and a half to spare."

  He started adjusting his suit and dusting himself off. Noticing some blood splatter on his sleeves, he sighed, licked his finger, and trying to rub it off.

  "That damn bitch got blood all over my custom suit," he sighed. "Guess I can have James drop it off at the cleaners in the morning."

  At that moment, the tree began to lift off the ground. Using what little strength she had left, Tiff bench-pressed the tree, lifting it up and rolling it off to the side. She managed to sit up, feeling like a meteor had hit her full force in the head—and looked like it too. Her face and bones were still broken, but she managed to heal just enough to function, trying to reserve what stamina she could for the fight, still looking like a bloody mess.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The sound of movement from the tree caught Tommy's attention, pulling his focus away from the bloodstains on his suit.

  "Well, well, you certainly are more resilient than I expected. I'm genuinely surprised you can move."

  She sat in the trench for a moment longer, flipping Tommy the bird before unzipping her boots and tossing them to the side by the tree with her socks. She wearily stood up, looking like she'd fall back over from the fatigue.

  "That's not very ladylike behavior, miss. Do you think taking your shoes off will give you some sort of advantage? Poke me with your big toe, perhaps?" As she finally stood up straight, regaining some of her energy and strength, she gave Tommy a shrug.

  "Mmmbe... all I need... ish—m’ toe." She mumbled the best she could with a broken jaw. Tommy didn't know what to say to this. To him, it was hilarious. He laughed and applauded her effort, even if it came off a bit mockingly. He was still somewhat impressed.

  "Let me guess, you're going to try to shift now, beat me, and save your boyfriend, is that it?" If her face wasn't already covered in blood, it would have turned beet red at this. Now it was her turn to not know what to say, and the thought crossed her mind, *How much does he know about me? Seems like he's just guessing at a lot of it.*

  “Fuh... for one—he'sh not... m’ boy... boyfriend; I d’n even kno’ the guy. Seconth...”

  A glob of blood slipped down her chin as she forced the rest out, voice frayed and thick.

  “I’m... tired of you... killin’ people... like they got no value...”

  "Ha, they only have value if sold to the right person, or until they no longer amuse. Soon to be like you—this banter has run its course. I've given you a more than generous offer, and you declined, so now I have to finish you off before your amorous companion."

  "He'sh not... m’ boy... boyfriend!" Tommy put his hand on his face, shaking his head.

  "I don't give two shits if he's your amorous companion or not, I grow weary of this. Now prepare yourself." She did just that, closing her eyes and trying to focus—and—nothing happened.

  "This isn't nap time, what are you doing?"

  *Why isn't this working? Why can't I shift back? What the heck is going on?!* She looked at her hands in confusion, a tinge of fear running down her spine. She then looked up at Tommy, her eyes filled with confusion and fear. He returned her gaze with a mocking expression, his hands on his cheeks in an *oh dear* gesture

  "What's the matter, lass? Don't tell me that's all you've got to give. You haven't figured it out yet, have you?" She squinted at Tommy from under her blood-encrusted brow.

  "Whuhh... d'you m'n...?" Tommy put his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

  "You really are a dense one. I would have thought a smart one like you would've figured it out by now. How disappointing. Amusing, but a real disappointment. You've been compromised--hacked. I don't know why, but for some reason, you can still take a hit within reason and somewhat heal, but you have no strength. Whatever your real identity is that the chip is concealing has been locked. You cannot revert to your original self." He reached down and grabbed a blade fragment, flicking it in the air with his thumb like a coin, catching it, and repeating the action throughout the conversation as he walked slowly closer to Tiffany.

  "Buhh... thiz z’posed t’buh... tuh-topp’f-th’line... Kihz’ne Chih Sh’t..." she said, eyeing him skeptically.

  "Oh, you mean this?" He caught the fragment in his hand, pocketing it in his blazer. Then he pulled out a large wallet from his inner jacket pocket, opening it to show Tiffany the strange metal card-sized case.

  "Let's just say we apprehended a delivery drone the other night making a medical drop-off, highly unusual for this backwater town, I might add. It had this in it, a very expensive Kitsune chip set" he added, flashing the card-sized case once more before pocketing it back into his wallet.

  "I happened to have an Incognito chip from our black market supply on me and swapped them. A tech, unless they are purposefully looking for something, won't realize it's a fake chip. This model mimics the Kitsune in every way, except; we've put a backdoor into it to lock and unlock special abilities at one's behest. And this wondrous device isn't just a snazzy timepiece that complements my custom suit beautifully, even though a certain someone decided to bloody it, I might add."

  Tiffany pulled her bottom eyelid down with her middle finger while sticking her tongue out at Tommy, who kept talking without missing a beat. "It controls the chip installed in the manners I mentioned, a final gift from my late asshole boss."

  "So, that being said, I'm a generous man. I'll unlock your chip, plus the previous offer—finances and rank included—if you agree to work for me.

  Don't throw your life away like this, for what, a boyfriend and a poorly paying job that works you into the ground?" he says as he pulls the fragment, flipping it in the air with his thumb, catching it, and repeating again.

  "P’rsh’n’lly... I’d ruh’r be stuck und’r th’t tree... trapped in this br’kn, frail b’dy... than s’rve yuh... or y’r damn f’mly..."

  Her breath hitched, voice rising despite the pain.

  "An’ f’r th’ las’ time, assh’l—

  HE’S... NOT... MY... B’YFRIEND!"

  "My, that tends to be a touchy subject for you. You must really be a lonely little missy," he retorted with a balled fist on his chin, amused at how easy it is to goad her on her relationship status, or lack thereof.

  "Well, I've had my fun for the evening," he said as he flicked the fragment at her.

  She lifted her arm to block it, the fragment painfully lodged into her forearm—more or less what she was hoping for.

  Tommy hesitated for a moment, stunned, as she yanked the shard free and began digging into the back of her neck, just above her data port at the base of her skull.

  *That damned, cunning cunt… she’s trying to short her chip! Wait… why am I even wanting to stop her? If the chip’s damaged, she’d just lose her edge… right?*

  He paused for a second, doubt creeping in. *Ah, fuck—better safe than sorry. That little trollop might be hiding something I’ll regret later. Why go this far to kill it, unless it kept something worse locked up…?*

  Tommy vanished and reappeared right in front of her.

  His fist drove into her gut.

  *Thut!*

  *Ooofff!*

  Tiff gasped as the blow collapsed her breath and sprayed blood and spit from her cracked lips. Pain lanced through her broken jaw as she doubled over—just before his knee smashed into the ruins of her face, flinging her backward.

  She still had a vice-like grip on the shard.

  With a faint smile, she thought, *Well... here goes...everything.*

  Her brain floated on a foggy sea, the edges threatening to swallow her from the sustained damage.

  Right before blacking out, she reached back in a quick, sharp motion—the shard found purchase.

  Her eyes went wide as she felt the rupture—the metal pierced the chip, shorting it out.

  She landed hard on her back with a *thud*.

  Tommy, more focused on the fresh splash of blood staining the knee of his slacks, cursed under his breath. Frustrated, he tried wiping it off before it could set.

  Lying exhausted on the ground, Tiffany started to feel her strength returning. Subtly, she tucked the fragment into the waistband of her panties, careful not to move too much—she didn’t want to draw Tommy’s attention just yet.

  Without shifting her head, she glanced at her exposed flesh.

  Her pale skin, dusted with red freckles, was changing—darkening to an almost onyx hue.

  She turned her hands over, inspecting herself. Relief flickered across her face as red fur began to sprout across her body.

  It felt like a dam bursting—an overwhelming surge of energy and adrenaline flooded through her as she slowly, bit by bit, began to shift.

  Beefier. Taller. Stronger.

  She rose, slowly, pulling Tommy’s attention away from the fresh stain he had been futilely trying to clean.

  “The hell? How are you still alive?!?” Tommy asked, more than a little stunned at the growing, changing girl in front of him.

  For the first time that night, tommy was concerned, he looked down at his watch swipping at the screen the readout showing *Chip not found*