The Red Light was currently empty of customers. Moxxi had given the waitresses the day off. With Athena on the premises, the fewer eyes around, the better. Scooter and Ellie had already left, saying they had business to attend to, much to Moxxi's reluctance.
Maxwell stored his ECHO device and put on his helmet. He approached, noticing Moxxi's lack of reaction, knowing full well that the woman would have already shot someone in the groin if they dared to touch her. He grabbed Shank's hand, interrupting his aggressive grip on Moxxi's arm. With an even stronger squeeze, he forced the man to let go, making him grunt in pain.
"Who the hell are you?!" Shank snarled, stepping back with his injured hand. His eyes were filled with rage as he sized Maxwell up from head to toe.
Maxwell didn't respond. He simply raised his leg and kicked Shank with force, sending the man flying several meters backward. He landed heavily on a table, knocking over glasses and bottles as he crashed onto the wooden surface.
In Maxwell's eyes, he had just kicked a piece of trash. Moxxi had told him about her past and what Shank had done to her and her children. The more he interacted with people, the more he realized that everything was deeper and more tangible than in the games. There was a lot of messed-up stuff happening in Borderlands. Maxwell didn't want to feel guilty, it was hard to take things seriously when such a depressing setting was masked with so many jokes and absurdities.
Maxwell stepped in front of Moxxi, who had lost all traces of confidence, her posture closed off. Her face was so pale it looked like she had reapplied her makeup. The traumas of the past were threatening to drown her in despair just from seeing Shank's face.
Shank stood up, spitting on the ground, grateful that his shield had absorbed most of the impact. Before he could say anything, a red glow caught his attention.
Athena, who had been sitting next to Jess, stood up calmly, drawing the two Plasma Swords strapped to her waist. The scarlet glow of the energy blades illuminated the dark bar, casting everyone's shadows on the walls. The characteristic hum filled the space, making the bandits recognize their target.
"The bounty... it's her!" one of the bandits whispered, his hand slowly moving to his belt, where a pistol rested.
Shank laughed, pulling his own knife from the holster on his thigh. "You should've run away from Pandora, Athena. This is gonna be fun."
Jess watched everything with wide eyes. Her heart began to race as she saw her sister facing so many bad men without fear.
"I don't even know who you are," Athena said, spinning one of the Plasma Swords in her hand and taking an offensive stance.
"Athena," Maxwell said without taking his eyes off Shank, his hand slowly drawing his Data Knife from its sheath. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed combat. If he talked and planned a little more, he'd end up like Aizen. "These bandits are yours. Shank is mine."
Athena nodded without hesitation. She owed Maxwell a lot. He had saved her sister and was protecting her from the Atlas. Even though it had been over twelve hours since her extermination mission and she hadn't rested at all, dealing with a few bandits wouldn't be a problem for her.
Shank's goons gulped as Athena's gaze fell on them. Even the uncultured savages of Pandora knew that corporate soldiers were on a completely different level than ordinary civilians. They quickly realized they only had one chance: surround her and attack all at once. But their calculations failed in one crucial detail:
None of them were good at math.
Athena was enveloped in a red glow and disappeared in an instant. Before they could react, she reappeared a few meters behind them, right in the center of their formation.
*Swoooosh*
With a fluid motion, she spun her body in a red blur, her blades slicing through the flesh of three unsuspecting bandits. The sound of something hot cutting through flesh echoed through the bar. Two of the bandits fell instantly, while the third remained standing for a few seconds before realizing something was wrong.
"Huh...? Ah... AHHHH!" he screamed as he realized he could no longer feel the lower half of his body. In shock, he collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, while his amputated legs remained standing for a brief moment before also falling.
Shank saw it all happen. His expression hardened as he realized capturing Athena alive wouldn't be as easy as he thought. Especially now that there was an unexpected new variable in the game.
Shank spun his knife in his fingers before pointing it at Maxwell, a mocking smile forming on his lips.
"Nice little knife. It'll look great in my collection," he laughed, tilting his head to the side. "And you... You're Moxxi's new toy? Just waiting your turn? Relax, I only came for Athena... and to have a little fun with my ex."
Maxwell let out a short laugh, unfazed. "The tactic of buying time to recharge your shield is pathetic. But nice try."
Before Shank could react, Maxwell attacked. His arm moved like a snake striking—fast, precise, deadly. The Data Knife sliced through the air, aiming for Shank's flesh, but Shank dodged at the last second, gritting his teeth. He had been found out.
*CLANG!* *CLANG!*
Frustrated with numb hands with rapid exchange of blows, Shank lunged forward with a series of thrusts, trying to push Maxwell back. The sound of clashing blades echoed through the room, a sharp metallic noise, sparks flying with each impact. The force behind Shank's strikes was impressive, but Maxwell didn't yield. Each attack was dodged or parried with cold, calculated reflexes.
Shank felt pressured. His opponent had a good uniform, a shield, and a bulletproof vest. Shank was a specialist with bladed weapons, killing his opponents in seconds, which had bred a certain arrogance in him. He wore nothing but pants, leaving his chest bare.
Maxwell was holding back laughter. Shank was a master with knives, and this was both fun and a way to level up his own blade skills. That's why he wanted to prolong the fight. With his Cyberware, he could have ended the fight in seconds.
*CLANG!*
"FUCK! FUCK!" Shank shouted in anger as he realized his opponent was toying with him. Every time Maxwell got past his guard, the Data Knife retreated before making a deep cut. Shank's torso was covered in shallow cuts and lacerations, a grotesque sight of minced meat.
Pulling out a flashbang, Shank threw it at Maxwell's feet before circling around to his back. Fortunately, Maxwell's visor adjusted the brightness in the blink of an eye. While expecting an attack from the flanks, he was furious to see Shank trying to grab Jess. Maxwell maliciously extended his hand toward Shank.
*Swoooosh*
"Huh?" Shank looked confused as a rope wrapped around his waist. Before he could process what was happening, he felt his body being pulled.
*CRACK!*
A punch landed squarely on Shank's face, dislocating his jaw and sending him stumbling back. He didn't get far before the rope pulled him again, and another brutal punch smashed into his face, breaking his nose.
Shank felt the rope tighten again, but anticipating another punch, he cut the rope at the last second. A loud ringing filled his head, confused whether he had been hit by a punch or run over by a damn truck. The exchange was brief, but it felt like his skull would crack if he took just one more hit.
"Huff Huff" Shank's breathing grew ragged. He had already lost a lot of blood, and at best, he could disable the shield and cut through a bit of his opponent's vest. The situation was turning sour. He needed to find a way to escape.
"You know, you're lucky. I don't have any magnets or rudimentary nanites with me, but I think Russian roulette will do for now," Maxwell said, pulling Wingman from his holster. He emptied the cylinder, loaded a single bullet, and spun it.
The motion of drawing a gun made Shank nervous, but he was furious when Maxwell extended the gun toward him. Did he seriously think he had lost?
"Not interested? Too bad." Seeing no movement from Shank, Maxwell holstered the gun, feeling a bit disappointed. It seemed like it would have been better to keep some rudimentary nanites on hand, but that would be an expensive torture method at the moment.
"*Sigh* Well, it was good fighting you. Now die," Maxwell activated his [Assassin Instinct].
Shank felt his limbs freeze and the surroundings darken as Maxwell's image distorted into a lion that pounced on his throat, its sharp fangs sinking into his flesh.
"ARGHHHH!" Shank screamed in agony and terror. His vision returned to normal just in time to see Maxwell's Data Knife plunge into his heart. His hands desperately gripped Maxwell's shoulders, who twisted the blade's handle, making Shank groan before collapsing to the ground, leaving a trail of blood on Maxwell's uniform.
"He was my second husband... You really killed him..."
Moxxi appeared beside Maxwell, holding his arm.
"Feeling sorry for him?"
Moxxi slowly shook her head, denying the question.
"I just... don't know. He seemed so scary back then, untouchable. I never thought someone would kill him." A few tears formed in the corners of her eyes but were quickly wiped away. "Look at me, crying again. I really have no grace."
"You can cry. Just make sure you don't cry for the same reason again in the future," Maxwell said, removing his helmet and looking into her eyes. "You're free. Don't stay trapped in the past."
Maxwell hugged her before turning to Athena, who had already finished her job. She was sitting on a pile of charred bodies, watching the aftermath of the fight.
"You took your time," Athena commented, a bit angry that her sister had been targeted by Shank.
"No one got hurt..." Looking at the pile of bodies, he rephrased. "Almost no one got hurt."
"Anyway, help me clean up this mess," Maxwell said, regretting not bringing any Marvins with him. He started picking up severed limbs and carrying them outside.
"Hmm?" Tilting his head, Maxwell looked confused at a squad of women outside. Just in time to see one of them pull a blade from a Psycho's body while using her foot to keep the corpse from falling over.
The assassin lances snapped into a salute as someone exited the bar but froze when they saw it was the man Knoxx had mentioned. They all gave a military salute. One of them, wearing a golden outfit, stepped forward.
"Omega Assassin, Minerva, reporting to Your Excellency. We received orders from General Knoxx to protect the Red Light establishment. I apologize if we made too much noise."
"Oh, so it's Knoxx. No need to apologize. In fact, you came at the perfect time. Help me clean up," Maxwell gestured.
"YES, SIR!"
"I like your enthusiasm."