From Bullets To Billions

Chapter 733: Getting Tricked

Nearly all of the Rangers had been placed in the exact same situation. The equipment they had received from the Gilt Rats—the specialized exoskeletons—had been heavily damaged during the previous war.

The Gilt Rats had put a massive amount of R&D funding and capital behind creating that specialized equipment, and the custom parts were incredibly hard to come by. It was going to take a significant amount of time before they could fully recreate the suits, leaving them with only one viable alternative: use whatever salvaged components they had left to build brand-new, customized weapons for each Ranger.

And that was precisely why Wolf was now equipped with specialized metal claws designed to fit directly over his fingertips.

The devices were remarkably flexible in design, extending down to cover most of his palm, while the tips tapered into extremely sharp, elongated metallic talons. He wasn’t just wearing the apparatus on one hand, either—he had a matching set fitted to both.

"Now, I don’t want you thinking I’m cheap for using these, considering you’re the one with retractable blades in his boots and coins flying out of his pockets every two seconds," Wolf said, flexing his fingers.

Right on cue, the young assassin raised both hands, revealing coins held between his fingers, and instantly flicked one straight toward Wolf’s head.

As the metallic projectile came tearing through the air, Wolf swung his arm and swatted it aside. His sharp clawed tips caught the edge of the coin, deflecting its momentum and sending it flying right back toward the Black Hand member.

The assassin ducked beneath the ricochet and went to flick another coin, but this time Wolf slipped the trajectory, and the two fighters charged directly at each other.

Just because Wolf had gained a pair of sharp metal claws didn’t mean the Black Hand operative was intimidated. When a sharp boot kick came whistling toward Wolf’s chest, Wolf didn’t make a fist; instead, he swung his open hand, letting his reinforced metallic talons clash against the toe blade to throw the kick off-target.

With a sudden burst of speed, Wolf rushed forward and swung upward in a wild, diagonal slash. The young assassin brought his arms up to block, but the claws sheared right through his clothing, leaving a massive laceration across his forearm like a tiger drawing blood for the first time.

"How sharp are those things? And it looks like they boost your finger strength too," the assassin said, gritting his teeth as blood welled up from the cut. "I guess those aren’t just fancy nails for show after all."

"I guess they’re not!" Wolf said, licking a smear of blood off his knuckles with a crazy grin.

Wolf had never fought with a refined, formal martial arts style. He simply threw out raw punches and kicks whenever he felt the timing was right, grabbing whatever he could reach and swinging wildly—and somehow, things always worked out for him. With these claws, his swings were even wilder and more unpredictable than before, giving him a distinct tactical advantage.

The young assassin threw another fast kick toward Wolf’s shoulder. Rather than trying to dodge, Wolf intentionally allowed the boot blade to dig into his shoulder muscle—because at that exact microsecond, he clamped his clawed hand tightly onto the assassin’s leg.

It was a brutal trade, but it was the one guaranteed way to trap the agile fighter. Wolf drove his metal talons deep into the skin and muscle fibers of his opponent’s leg, locking his grip.

With these claws, my grip strength might actually give Jett a run for his money, Wolf thought, his eyes flashing. So don’t think for a second I’m letting go!

The assassin desperately flicked a coin straight at Wolf’s face, but Wolf swatted it away with his free hand, yanked the trapped leg forward to pull the assassin’s entire body off-balance, and drove a heavy right fist straight into the man’s face.

The blow lifted the assassin off his feet, sending him hurtling toward the floor. Knowing full well that a single punch might not be enough to finish an S-rank operative, Wolf leaped into the air and brought his boot down, planting his heel directly onto the assassin’s face and slamming his head violently into the stone.

Wolf felt the crunch of his opponent’s nose breaking beneath his sole. When he lifted his foot, the young assassin lay completely still on the ground. It was unlikely he was dead from that strike alone, but the fight between the two of them appeared to be over.

I’m pretty beat up, but at least I can still move, Wolf thought, catching his breath as he stepped over the unconscious body. I think I might just have enough gas left in the tank to go take out that Commander.

He took two steps past his fallen opponent when a sudden, blinding movement exploded from the ground. Out from his sleeve, the young assassin whipped out a concealed dagger and drove it straight into the back of Wolf’s leg.

Kicking off the floor, the Trickster leaped into the air and drove a heavy kick into Wolf’s back, the boot blade digging deep to carve another agonizing wound. As Wolf tried to spin around to defend himself, a brutal kick caught him flush across the jaw. It wasn’t the blade that connected this time, but the solid flat of the boot—a heavy, crushing blow that sent Wolf crashing face-first onto the hard floor.

The Trickster had pulled off one last desperate ploy: playing completely unconscious, a dirty trick he reserved only for when he was pushed to the absolute brink.

Now it was Wolf lying motionless on the stone, his blood staining the clothing. His body was in a lot of damage and it wasn’t something his vow would heal with time.

"That was a hell of a lot harder than I thought," the Trickster panted, wiping blood from his broken nose as he stood over Wolf. "Looks like the others might actually need my help after all."