My Nihilism Got Me Laid?!

"Are you ready?" He questions. Tilting his head down his eyes look as though they are reaching out for my soul.

I fail to come up with a cool one liner to acknowledge, so I just nod.

His wooden sandals make a rickety tapping noise...

*Tick Tap...*

*Tick Tap...*

*Tick Tap...*

With his third step, he vanishes. Like a whistle, a cold breeze hits my neck, causing me to instinctually flip around.

*CLANG!*

The wooden swords clash against one another with a deafening crack.

Despite my superior muscle mass, the colossal skeleton's practice sword barley cracks while mine snaps clean in half.

Left defenseless, he hits all of my joints with precise strikes. The thick wooden stick fails to pierce the skin instead, the blunt force causes mass internal bleeding.

With a repressed cuss, my lifeless body fumbles to the ground.

After a few moments, my body begins to heal, the internal bleeding repairing itself to a healthy state, allowing me to stand once more.

With a swoosh, the phantom of a man returns to his original spot on the tatami matt. Walking over to the shelf, he returns the training sword as I squirm there on the floor.

"I hope you can understand, when you get to be my age, it's important to warm up before any exercise."

Fuck... if this guy wasn't my opponent, I would think he's the coolest thing ever.

"You know... my sensei made me kill my mother, my father, and even my brother as my final test Do you know what I did when I graduated, when I was given the freedom to fly from this cage... I stayed... I killed him. My wife was the one to teach me the importance of life, but that was all, she was a teacher, and that was a test I never passed, instead she as the one who passed."

"So you relied on someone else to give you your humanity? You're weaker than you look."

"I have lived, surrounded only by corpses. Do you think you really think you could possibly understand?"

"And why should I care? What's the point of giving a corpse a sob story?"

Thrusting out his blade, he gives me a dead eyed expression. "So, do you really plan on facing me?"

Tilting my head to the side, I point at him. "I can't bang your daughter without beating the shit out of you."

The walking guillotine manages a scoff. "Despite your theatrics, you really are just a shallow leech. That is a lesson I have learned far too early: real heros don't exist, because death inevitably hunts them down. Those we deem heros are just actors praying on the fantasies of the weak."

Despite his evil ways, it seems he's at least cognizant enough to realize that he too is a terrible person. "I am no hero, I have enough blood on my hands to scare Genghis Khan."

"You know, If I cared about her, you'd be dead already. So consider yourself lucky that her life holds no meaning to me."

"You're lucky your wife's not alive, otherwise I'd bang her too."

...

...

I shouldn't have said that... (っ⊙_⊙ ς)

His eyes narrow and my body instinctively trembles.

As though charging up death itself, the atmosphere becomes cold as the blade of his longsword rattles in its sheathe.

He slowly hunches forward, with a single *Tink* he unsheathes an inch of the blade before I feel a gust of wind rip past me.

My body feels light, as though...

in the next moment, my body crumbles to the ground, my limbs chopped off like a cow at the anime swordsman of a butcher.

...

It only takes a moment, but I feel my body begin to regenerate, enough for me to connect my head to my neck.

...

I only need one limb!

The old man comes walking over, his footsteps make no noise, yet he seems confident as he looks down at me. Having regained my left arm, I continue, reaching out in an attempt to get my right arm back.

The shogun kneels down, picking my my right arm and holding it up above me like a school yard bully.

"It doesn't matter if you die a hundred thousand times if your always too slow to even see me."

I continue inching forward, like a small animal I cling onto his leg.

"What do you possibly hope to achieve by wiggling at me... there is no such thing as plot armor nor destiny. I will torture you until you tell me how you achieved this miracle of life..."

"I couldn't have said it better. So don't keep the devil waiting." I say, grinning as I desperately cling to the cloth of his pant leg with my remaining left hand.

His eyes widen as he finally notices the button phone in my left hand, but it's too late.

Clicking the final digit, my right hand that he holds, explodes, limb by limb, my body erupts in a explosive reaction.

The termite and gunpowder burn and tear my skin, yet I don't loosen my grip.

*BOOM!*

*BOOM!*

*BOOM!*

*BOO-

...

My head hurts, I can barley feel my... anything.

Wincing, it seems most of my body has healed.

My healing time has sped up at least as the smoke from the explosions hasn't even cleared yet.

Combing my hand from my hair, blood is painted across my maroon hair.

"HAHA! Your technique couldn't save you from explosives!"

...

"It certainly did."

Choking on my confidence, I gulp. "Eh- Wha-"

"People have survived great falls without a parachute, only by surrendering to destiny, to the hands of fate itself. Once you know how to trick your own body, there is nothing in this world you cannot conquer."

Emerging from the smoke like a true villain, he towers before me, part of his face melted off and his right hand missing. Even with the injury to his leg he continues walking forward, applying pressure to the foot without a trace of pain.

"Fucking hell, are you Shuten-dōji?!"

"Your the one who is attacking me in my own home. Wouldnt that make you the demon you speak of. I've heard of poisoning food, but wrapping your body in explosives? It is certainly unorthodox way to say thank you to the host. Well, now you've gotten me interested; what will I use my soon to be immortality on? Times ticking..."

"My lord, are you alri-" Mercury appears within the room, his eyes widen as he inspects his half dead master.

His eyes narrow as they land on me.

"Death to our enemies, that is the ninja way."

He attempts to take a step forward, yet his anger blinds him. Wrapping her arm around his neck, Dissiri managed to sneak up from behind.

Throwing him down to the ground, Dissiri holds him in a chokehold.

He manages to roll out of it, kicking her off.

Jumping up to his feet, he expertly evades her strikes. As she reaches for her gun, he grabs three shuriken from his back pouch.

With an unnecessarily cool cork spin flip, he throws the three stars, perfectly blocking the incoming bullets.

Without even giving him a chance to land on his feet, Dissiri charges at him, forcing them into a hand to hand fight.

"Do you have time to watch the show? I thought you were planning on winning." The old man taunts as he wraps a ripped cloth around his half burnt face.

From his back sheathe, he pulls out a shorter tanto blade; meanwhile I reach down for the Katana he had dropped earlier. The explosion has broken the blade in half leaving a chipped blade with half the length.

As we stand 20 feet apart, we both stance up, holding our shorted weapons before us.

Despite facing death itself, I can't help but grin.

His right leg is torn and ripped by the explosion, even so, he still manages to maintain his speed, yet its slow enough that I can track it with my eyes.

Our shortened blades slam against one another with a reverberating clang!

Despite missing a hand, his strikes still have enough force to send me back a step.

But there's a reason I trained with Dissiri, the explosives were just my Hail Mary.

Side stepping his swing; I've started to learn his timing. I'm not sure if it's my healing factor, but it feels as though I can read his next move, as though my brain saw a pattern in his movements.

Even with my confidence and surprisingly fast reflexes, he is not phased in the slightest. Striking down with his weapon, he sends me launching backwards.

Even if I can match his speed, his strikes are too powerful, there's not enough time in between them to allow me to regain my composure and also strike.

The worst part is, even when I manage to dodge, he doesn't fully commit and follow through with his swing, as though he were holding back and there was the possibility of even more strength.

What he fails to realize is that every strike, every back track, my body breaks, repairing and rebuilding itself to an even stronger state.

"You're dead." I mock with a wide grin.