From Bullets To Billions Chapter 622: The Iron Chest

Deep inside the legal department, the atmosphere brimmed with the smell of stale printer ink and the intense vibe of a chase. Even as the rest of the building dove into brutal, direct skirmishes, one fighter steered clear of ordinary brawls. Wolf glided with smooth, hunter-like poise, taunting the clunky strides of the exoskeleton wearer hunting him amid the cubicles.

Each time the attacker tried to shorten the gap, surging ahead with mechanical boost, Wolf evaded with eerie precision. He avoided simple backpedaling; instead, he traced a twisted route across the office setup. Deliberately heading one way, he circled massive oak desks and file cabinets on purpose, shoving them into his foe's route. It became a predator-prey game flipped upside down, with the prey dragging the hunter into every tight nook of the space.

Driven by sheer fury, the exoskeleton wearer lost it at last. Ignoring the maze Wolf had set, he coiled his power and vaulted forward. His boots crashed onto a lengthy conference table, the timber creaking beneath the suit's fake mass. Upon landing, a storm of legal papers and files erupted into the air.

The chamber turned into a whirlwind of sheets. Documents whirled wildly overhead, blocking views and forming a fluttering veil of paper. This mayhem rendered it almost impossible for the aggressor to pinpoint Wolf's spot. He peered through the dancing mess, hunting for an outline, yet the disorder served as ideal cover.

Wolf refused to pause until the flurry settled.

Emerging like a specter from the document gale, Wolf unleashed a sweeping low kick. It landed flawlessly on the man's supporting leg, the raw impact buckling the joint. The exoskeleton user crumpled, slamming hard onto the table he'd occupied moments before. The crash boomed hugely, a deep metallic echo bouncing from the lofty ceiling.

Wolf pressed the advantage without delay. Seizing the exposed instant, he drew his leg upward sharply, his form briefly eclipsing the ceiling lights, then drove his heel downward in a savage overhead chop at the man's torso.

When his heel bit into the core of the foe's chest, a fierce, burning ache ripped through Wolf's frame. Not mere bruising pain, but the shocking jolt of meat striking something tougher than bone. It resembled slamming into tank armor. As the man's claws snatched his leg in an iron hold, Wolf instinctively yanked free and bounded back from the table group, creating separation.

"Now, that was strange," Wolf muttered to himself. He lingered a short distance away, jiggling his foot hard to dull the throbbing numbness creeping along his calf. "I thought something was up with this guy, but I believed I might have been imagining things at first."

The foe tumbled from the table, propelled by wrath. Hitting the rug-covered ground, he skipped any recovery. He seized hefty office chairs by their structures, lifting them with horrifying strength and chucking them at Wolf. The thrown seats proved lethal missiles, yet their paths were foreseeable. Depending on brute force over skill, the attacker telegraphed each toss, letting Wolf anticipate the flight and evade via simple tilts and steps aside.

As Wolf dodged the last chair, opportunity struck. He blurred forward, whipping an item from behind his back. The man, driven by gut defense, thrust a huge fist to counter the rush.

His knuckles smashed the item, but no firm clash occurred. It was a fat stack of papers Wolf had grabbed off a close desk. The punch's power burst the pile apart, blasting fresh documents into the man's visage.

Amid this new diversion, Wolf twisted sharply. He whipped his leg into a towering roundhouse, nailing the attacker dead on the temple. The blow hurled the man reeling, his frame lurching perilously sideways.

Wolf surged once more, knee thrusting straight for the man's mug to seal the fight. Yet the gear-enhanced reflexes proved swift enough. The hands rose, parrying the knee and exploding outward with machine-driven might. The push hurled Wolf rearward. He struck the floor solidly but rolled with the force, springing upright into a battle stance before pursuit could land.

"You! Why don’t you fight me properly instead of fighting with these dirty tricks?" the man bellowed, voice rough with annoyance. He waved at the room's wreckage. "Throwing papers everywhere and hitting me with those quick stabs... don’t you want to go head-to-head like a real man?"

Wolf gave a brief, wry laugh. "Hey," he replied, cocking his head. "Those papers are quite precious. I’m sure there were some very important legal precedents in there. Although, these days everything has a digital backup, so the firm will be fine. And fighting fair? Aren’t you the one using a part-cyborg body or whatever that rig is?"

The man skipped any comeback. He barreled ahead, boots thumping the floor. Wolf countered by snagging a nearby chair with his foot's curve. A swift kick flipped it airborne, hurtling straight at the oncoming Gilt Rat.

The attacker snared the chair in midair, fury peaking. He crushed the frame inward with his grasp. Beneath the crushing force, the chair folded and warped, compacting to half size amid screeching metal. He hurled the twisted steel clump back at Wolf.

True to form, Wolf contorted aside, the debris whooshing by his ear. The man scanned in shock, seeking Wolf's next spot, only to find him already inches away. Instead of sidestepping the toss, Wolf had slipped beneath the airborne chair, exploiting the attack as camouflage to close in.

His leg snapped out, pounding the man's chest center. Once more, Wolf sensed that solid, rattling impact through his sole. Despite thick shoe bottoms, the feel of unbendable metal rang clear.

Wolf tumbled aside rapidly, gaining space anew. Anticipating pursuit, he scooped a hefty file box mid-retreat and lobbed it. It shattered on contact, burying the man under yet another cascade of papers.

Wolf seized the moment to circle back. Sticking to hit-and-fade strategy, he denied the foe any steady flow.

'I’m just going to borrow this from a friend of mine!' Wolf thought, picturing a buddy's explosive technique. He whirled in a compact, ferocious spin, amassing huge spinning momentum. Channeling the full twist's might, he lashed his leg into the man's chest—same spot as before.

A sharp, clear snap resounded across the legal wing.

The strike's power hoisted the man airborne. He flew back, smashing through a divider before sprawling motionless on the floor, wheezing desperately.

Wolf loomed above, breathing steadily. "I thought something was strange from the beginning," he stated coolly, dissecting his rival. "All of you lab coats have an exoskeleton, but I couldn’t see them clearly on your hands or limbs like the others I’ve encountered."

He observed the man's failed attempts to stand. "Your movement was slower than what I expected as well, at least with your arms and when you were lifting those objects. It didn’t match the power you were showing. That’s because your exoskeleton isn’t a full suit. It’s a chest piece."

Wolf jabbed a finger at the torso. "It’s enhanced you in specific areas, like raw strength and the ability to crush things together. But the thing is, with these exoskeletons, you guys are making yourselves a rather large, easy target. You rely on the armor too much."

He advanced nearer, gaze icy. "A machine is a machine. And especially a prototype like the ones you guys are wearing... hit it in the same spot enough times and it will get destroyed. And what do you have to fall back on then? Just a man in a broken tin suit."

Though his tone rang assured, Wolf eyed the downed foe with true intrigue. Witnessing the immense might from one chest unit sparked questions. What if someone donned full sets—arms, legs, core fused? Such a total exoskeleton promised terrifying power in future clashes.