It was a few seconds later that the Man Hunter Alexgey came to his senses.
True to his reputation as an infamous Ronin, he didn't lose consciousness even after experiencing the amputation of a body part.
Impressive willpower.
Even if it was a mechanical arm, I'd heard that military-grade products are directly connected to the nervous system for quick reactions in emergencies, making the sensation of injury similar to the real thing.
Perhaps it was thanks to a safety mechanism installed in the prosthetic that dulled pain signals upon damage—not that I knew the details.
Either way, that wasn't the important part; what mattered was that the bastard was burning with pitch-black hostility toward me.
"Guaaaagh..."
He trembled violently, clutching the cleanly severed Mechanical Cut Surface with his other hand. His hideously contorted face and the burst capillaries around his eyes were bright red.
The Metal Forearm was malfunctioning while sparking electricity and spurting fluids, and the Artificial Skin Membrane was torn and peeled around it.
Coupled with his bulging eyeballs that looked ready to pop out from under his sliced sunglasses, the bastard's appearance was like a Terminator.
A half-broken Termigator.
A Machine Weapon that activated solely on the will to kill humans.
Unlike in the movies, he couldn't just casually get back up and charge after having his arm destroyed, but the Termigator of this World had subordinates.
"...You fucks, what are you just watching for! Kill that motherfucker! I said kill hiiiiim!"
As he let out a tearing roar while spitting blood-mixed saliva, the surrounding Slavic Ronin finally broke the quiet silence and began to move.
The Red Mafia Mercenaries belonging to the Bratva had been watching with their eyes wide open as if they couldn't believe the sight of my cutting off the Man Hunter's wrist.
Perhaps they shared a deep comrade-in-arms bond with the Man Hunter Alexgey normally, because the way they flared their nostrils and closed the distance toward me was quite threatening.
"Oops."
I'm fucked.
There were five of them, but since they all boasted physiques rivaling the Terminator Governor thanks to Hormone Injections and Artificial Muscle Procedures, just their approach made me feel like I was surrounded by walls.
The space itself gradually shrank, the sharp pressure making my skin tingle.
I gripped the slipping handle of the engine saw with hands slick with cold sweat.
Surrounded by steroid-pumped hulking men who were about two heads taller than me and had forearms as thick as my thighs, I could only trust this weapon, even if it wasn't mine.
The one fortunate thing was that thanks to having this weapon, those bastards couldn't easily approach within the saw blade's range.
Because a Super-Vibration Jet Engine Cutting Saw is terrifying.
Especially if one had just witnessed one's Boss, the terrifyingly named Man Hunter, getting his hand brutally sliced off.
I understood why the Chainsaw Man Ronin had been so reluctant to hand over this weapon.
Saying he'd be too anxious to even eat properly without it wasn't an excuse.
Just holding it really did give a strange sense of security. It wasn't the One Ring or anything, but thinking about giving it back actually made me feel a bit reluctant.
Surely he wouldn't charge me a saw blade repair fee for using it once when I return it.
While I entertained these trivial thoughts, the Ronin gradually drew closer.
They were still hesitating, not knowing what kind of trump card I, the guy who cut off the Man Hunter's wrist, might be hiding, but even that wouldn't last long.
I had a weapon, but they had numbers and superior Physical Ability, and furthermore,
just like the Man Hunter who had hidden a projectile inside his prosthetic, there was no telling what form of Integrated Offensive Cyberware they might be hiding.
Even without weapons, those pot-lid-sized Iron Fists looked like deadly weapons in their own right.
And above all, I had no strength left to hold out.
I was at my limit, both mentally and physically. Let alone swinging the engine saw, just holding onto it was overwhelming.
It was a Side Effect of Ability. Perhaps because I had attempted something I'd never done before, the backlash was exceptionally fierce.
My head was boiling hot as if I had the flu, and my limbs trembled like aspen leaves.
I was somehow forcing my blurry eyes into focus and acting like I was fine, but my opponents were Murder Experts.
I might be able to fool them for a moment, but they wouldn't stay intimidated and back away from an Ordinary Person like me for that long.
Sure enough, the Termigator pointed at me from the front with his bloodshot eyes and his remaining intact arm, shouting.
"What are you standing still for! You can clearly see he's exhausted and can't do anything! Just charge him! Tear his hands off too, just like what happened to mine!"
You could say it was a rather cold and accurate judgment even while he was running amok.
Indeed, the Man Hunter's infamy wasn't won through Ddakji.
Though it could just be something he blurted out to quickly mobilize his hesitating subordinates because he simply wanted to kill me.
Ultimately, his shout acted as a trigger, and the pausing Ronin began to move in unison. They strode toward me, reaching out their hands.
I didn't have the strength to dodge or fight back by swinging the saw. Even if I did swing it, they would easily dodge it.
Cutting off the Man Hunter's hand was purely thanks to the Mental Switch.
With the ability turned off and suffering from its side effects, I couldn't even reach the tips of my toes.
Swoosh.
The gorilla-like hands lunging into my hazy vision were fierce. They grabbed me by the collar faster than my sluggish eyes could move.
I was hoisted up just like that by their immense physical strength.
Their agility was undeniable. Even if my body were perfectly fine, it would have been hard to react.
It was an agility that seemed closer to that of a cheetah or leopard than a human's.
They looked to be at least Body Modification Level 3. They really had plastered a lot of money onto themselves.
The Man Hunter's arm was probably a filthy expensive item too. It was obviously military-grade, as was evident just by looking at it.
In terms of price alone, it must have been a luxury item worth millions of City Dollars. Thinking that I had smashed something like that gave me a thrilling feeling.
There was a reason he was that angry. Just the monetary loss alone was how much?
Perhaps because my head was running hot, I only entertained these idle thoughts as I was lifted into the air by my collar and then slammed into the ground.
With a crashing noise, a bitter pain rattled my brain.
Too exhausted to even stand anymore, I collapsed limply onto the floor. I had already dropped the engine saw.
I'm screwed.
...If my calculations were right, some kind of change should be happening right about now.
I wasn't just getting beaten up without a thought. This was my own Method of Enduring.
I was stalling for time, waiting for something to save me, but it really wasn't coming.
It was about time for it to arrive.
Grab.
The Ronin abruptly reached out their hands from both sides.
They were intent on snapping both of my wrists, which had a value that was a mere drop in the bucket compared to the value of the Man Hunter's prosthetic.
Srrk—.
At the same time, the Red Mafia's Chrome Hand Blade, modified to pop out as sharp as a knife, flashed menacingly under neon light.
Ah, they were planning to do something worse than just snapping them.
They were going to slice my hands right off with that, exactly as the Man Hunter had suffered.
It was going to hurt a lot if I took that head-on.
If they didn't want to see me becoming a cripple, they should really show something right now...
Like, right now.
CRACK.
Something moved.
With my Dull Dynamic Vision, I wasn't sure what had happened.
All I remembered was something black and blue flashing by like lightning, and then the two hulking men on either side who were about to ruin my hands collapsed like a kite with a broken string.
I looked over in surprise to see both of them with their necks twisted 180 degrees, their eyes rolled back.
The way they convulsed with foam at their mouths showed that this wasn't a joke, but something that had actually happened.
They didn't seem dead yet, but without immediate medical attention, it wouldn't be strange if they died from asphyxiation just like that.
The remaining three Ronin who had surrounded me looked around in sheer panic, but there was no way they could find the cause by doing that.
They were the only ones in this immediate area, and the other Ronin were all just sitting down, quietly watching what was happening here.
This was a situation where someone, or something, had snapped their colleagues' necks and passed by, yet they couldn't figure out the culprit at all.
Panicking, they all looked at me in unison.
Why are you looking at me? I don't know either. I was just lying here helplessly.
You guys were the ones who beat me down into this state.
If I had the ability to do something like that, I would have smashed all of you to pieces ages ago.
I gave a weak shrug to express that it wasn't my doing.
I thought it was a polite response on my part, but they backed away, seemingly even more startled by the gesture.
Their pupils were trembling, and beads of sweat were dripping.
They were clearly terrified of something.
...Are they scared of me?
No, no matter how shocking the sight just now was, would guys who were professional Ronin be scared of a pushover like me because of it?
That makes no sense.
I seriously pondered what was going on, but soon realized that while their gazes seemed directed at me...
More accurately, they were looking subtly to the side, toward the Corridor beyond the wall where I was sprawled out.
Because my head was throbbing so painfully, I was late to notice, but I felt a presence behind me.
An intense presence, like a fire blazing right behind my back.
The person I had been waiting for had arrived.
[I suddenly heard a loud chainsaw (electric saw) noise, so I came out to see what was going on, but...]
A torso of a size that didn't fall behind at all even when compared to the heavily muscled Bratva Thugs.
Unlike usual, the Powered Suit was radiating a brilliant glow with its power activated. The red exoskeleton made the floor rumble with every step it took closer.
The sight of it approaching, blazing with light in the darkness, was truly overbearing.
The helmet was on top. The mouth, taking the Dragon's Form and contorted into a Demonic Expression, spat out words as if chewing them up.
[Look who we have here. If it isn't our Red Mafia friends who rub their dicks together. Don't tell me...]
That Bright Yellow Electronic Eyeball gradually widened.
As it emitted an Overwhelming Light Intensity that seemed like it would blind anyone looking at it, Sasha Dragon spoke.
[...Did you guys do this to my subordinate employee?]
His outstretched hand was pointing at me.