Chapter 89 - Gentleman's Agreement

"… Hah… where do you think… you're going…?!"

At those hagged, angry words, Cyanide stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned. It was the first time he has been truly impressed in his life. Even a whole ass explosion was not enough to kill that brute? What was he, too angry to die?

Spinning around, Cyanide narrowed his eyes, only to see his enemy struggling to his feet, breathing ragged and heavy.

His entire body was bruised, battered, and painted black from smoke and ash, but he was alive. Alive, despite an entire oil tank's worth of explosions and fire.

"… You still want more?" Cyanide asked, voice as cold and emotionless as ever as he placed his hand on his gun.

But contrary to what he expected, Ragnar shook his head.

"Hah… no. A man knows when he's lost. If I didn't cancel my Pyromaniac form at the final possible moment there, both blocking the damage of the explosion and preventing the skill from draining my HP completely, I would've died. It's hard for me to accept, but… this time, you win."

The first time Ragnar has ever been defeated in his life. His pride had been stepped all over on, but a loss was a loss.

"…" Cyanide fell into silence, waiting to see what Ragnar was going to say next. If it wasn't anything interesting, he would put a bullet in his head. That simple.

"Assassin. I hold an offer for you, and you may not fuckin' like it, but hear me out." he grunted, stabbing his somehow still intact sword into the floor.

That was interesting.

"Speak," Cyanide ordered, finger still on the trigger steadily.

"You and I. I know about the Gamemaster, as do you. I know about the wish. I know about…you. You seem like—no, you ARE a persistent man. Potentially a misguided one, yes, but that is irrelevant," he boomed despite his body's weak state, able to make just about anyone fear his tenacity.

Not Cyanide, though.

"Are you going to get to the point, or keep going in circles like you did when trying to chase after me?"

At this, Ragnar grunted. Emotional damage.

"Alright, fine. I propose that you and I work together. I may not be able to best you in a one on one duel, but you and I both know damn well your fighting style is not suited for taking on waves n' waves of enemies over n' over, which is what we'll be mostly doing in this god forsaken place."

"…" Cyanide didn't respond, considering his words. It was true, Cyanide's combat style definitely paled in comparison to Ragnar's when it came to fighting against entire groups of enemies. He realized that.

"Just like you, I don't like being controlled and leashed," Ragnar continued. "I do what I fucking want, and what I think is the best choice. That damned Gamemaster is in my way, and I'll work with you to take it out. We hold different goals, or I can assume as much, since a man like you has no real wish to make. So we won't be at a standoff with our desires, either. And besides all that…" he paused, looking down at his sword in the ground. "I want to get to know you. Either I die here, or I survive. No harm in getting to know the guy I've been after for seven years."

Cyanide cocked an eyebrow. Mighty offer to make, considering they'd spent the last hour or so trying to kill each other. But it did indeed, make some degree of sense. They had different aims, ones that did not contradict each other. Or so Ragnar said.

Luna, however, was not in such an agreeable mindset. She stormed into the arena, all manners of missiles and machine guns cocked from within her back. Ragnar glanced at her momentarily before looking back at Cyanide, his expression one of mild surprise and amusement.

"She's pretty," he stated factually. "Your girlfriend?" He queried before grinning.

Luna let off a missile at this, a "warning shot". But to her surprise, Cyanide shot the projectile out of the air with one of his bullets, the smoke rising out of his gun as a beautiful explosion went off in the air.

"… No."

"Cyanide…?" Luna tilted her head in confusion. "But… this person is clearly just making excuses to run away after he's lost a fight. Calling for a deal to work together from now on? Don't make me laugh. You've been hunting Cyanide for seven years. Do you think it's believable for you to suddenly want to work together with him, and not stab him in the back the first chance you get?"

"Heh, she's pretty overprotective," Ragnar said with a chuckle. "You're into this kind of women? I'm more about the submissive kind, mysel-"

BANG!

This time, it was Cyanide's turn to let off a warning shot, and Ragnar froze as the bullet just barely whizzed past the side of his head, by a margin of about one millimeter exactly. Cyanide's sharpshooting skills and accuracy… they were nothing to scoff at.

"G-Geez, touchy topic, I guess. Both of you are, uh, quite quick to resort to violence. Maybe you guys should invest in some… y'know, counseling," Ragnar cracked, chuckling at his own joke for several seconds before finally realizing no one else was laughing. Awkwardly, his laughter slowly died down.

"… Cyanide, he seems like an idiot," Luna observed, nose turned upwards indignantly.

"I agree," Cyanide commented. "However, his skills in battle are adequate."

At this, both Luna and Kirika widened their eyes.

"Did I just hear… a compliment, coming from Cyanide?!" Kirika gasped in shock, and Luna was briefly taken by surprise, but eventually nodded.

"Yes, he is stronger than most, but… is it really wise to accept this deal…?"

"Perhaps not," Cyanide said with a devilish smile. "But this man… is a worthy opponent. I may have bested him this time around, but I still consider him dangerous—a threat. I'm looking forward to our second fight, once all the other players have been eliminated."

"I see… so that is why…" Luna murmured to herself, carefully attempting to understand her creator's emotions and unorthodox psychology.

Cyanide, turning to Ragnar, at last lowered his gun and holstered it on his waist.

"I accept your offer, Mr… Titan of Shadows."

"Ugh, fuck that name. Call me Ragnar, or Dreddnought. Either my first name or my vigilante alias," Ragnar responded sincerely. "We can meet tomorrow to figure out what we're going to do from now on. For now, though… I need to heal."

As Cyanide acknowledged his statement with nothing more than a nod and prepared to turn away, Ragnar called out again.

"Oh, and Cyanide?"

"Hm?" Responded the underground menace, turning his head slightly to the side.

"Don't think you'll be able to dispose of me so easily. I'm not another Anthrax."

Cyanide stopped in his tracks at this, not turning his head any further.

"… I can dispose of you right now, if that's what you'd like."

At this, Ragnar gave a snort, knowing that Cyanide wouldn't actually do anything. He wasn't the type to be provoked by a little taunt like this. All of his kills were done with meaning, though those 'meanings' differed very much from Ragnar's ones.

Even so, Ragnar's comment was enough to make Cyanide a bit wary.

'So, he knows,' he thought to himself. And as Ragnar walked past him, he stopped next to him, as if trying to show that he was about six inches taller.

"You're not the only one who does his research," he muttered quietly, before lumbering on ahead with his injuries.

As Cyanide watched him walk off, his lips unknowingly curved into a smile, one that had not appeared on his face for ages now. The last time was… when he fought and killed his former teacher, Anthrax.

It's been a long time since he had last faced an opponent as interesting as this. Despite being two levels down and having a combat style not suited for one vs one duels, Ragnar had survived an encounter with the world's number one assassin. Not only that, Cyanide had a feeling that even if he chose to fire his gun there instead of accepting Ragnar's deal, the Titan of Shadows would've still found some ridiculous way to escape death.

If Cyanide had to choose… he would say Ragnar was even stronger than Anthrax, since he had an incredible power—the power to grow. Anthrax already reached his peak in life, so he couldn't do that any longer. But Ragnar was different. Despite the two having very different aims and being nemeses, Cyanide and Ragnar both had the word called 'potential'. They observed, they learned, and they adapted to get stronger.

That's what made them dangerous. That's what made them strong.

Truly, to Cyanide, Ragnar Creed was a one-of-a-kind opponent.

And only time would tell what else he could become in the future.