The next day, the sun blazed mercilessly over the steel plate of Sector 7, baking the piles of refuse into a giant, sweltering oven.
After finishing his morning chores—hoisting engine blocks as if they were foam pillows—Johnny asked his father for permission to leave. With his Scrap Greatsword wrapped in cloth and strapped to his back, he walked toward the Outskirts, a forbidden zone where city laws held no sway and monsters bred amidst the wreckage of civilization.
The place was a labyrinth of rusted metal. The carcasses of buses, the skeletons of construction robots, and mountains of used tires created the perfect arena.
"Alright," Johnny muttered, setting his supply bag on the hood of an old car. "Let's start this stupid experiment."
Johnny unwrapped his sword. The thick, rough iron glinted grimly under the sunlight.
"Remember the theory, Boss!" Puck flew out of his pocket, wearing a small bandana around his head like a boxing coach. "Gather the enemies, tank their attacks to fill your 'Rage Vessel,' and then... BOOM! Activate Berserk Mode!"
Johnny nodded. He didn't need a complex strategy to bait enemies. He just needed to do one thing: Be loud.
CLANG!
Johnny slammed his massive sword against an empty oil tank. The metallic ring echoed loudly, deafeningly, sending a signal to every inhabitant of the Outskirts: "Fresh meat is here."
It didn't take long.
From the shadows of the scrap, red eyes began to glow. Sharp squeaks and low growls emerged.
One by one, they appeared. Wererats—mutant rats the size of large dogs with poisonous claws. Gorgers—fat, bipedal creatures with giant mouths capable of swallowing a human head whole.
There were five... ten... fifteen...
At least fifteen monsters surrounded Johnny, drool dripping from their jaws, hungry for human flesh.
"Boss," Puck flew a bit higher, his voice anxious. "Isn't this too many for a warm-up? If you get mobbed..."
"I need the pressure," Johnny cut him off coldly. He shifted into a defensive stance. Left foot forward, greatsword pulled across his chest as a shield. "If I don't do this, my instincts won't wake up."
The monsters didn't wait for a signal.
A Wererat leaped from the left, followed by two Gorgers from the front.
CLANG!
Johnny didn't slash. He twisted his body slightly, letting the Wererat's claws slam into the flat of his blade. The vibration traveled up his arm.
THUD!
A Gorger rammed into his sword. Johnny skidded back two steps, his boots grinding into the sandy earth.
"Hold it..." Johnny thought.
He had to be careful. In his old life, he would let his body be torn apart to find an opening for a fatal strike. Guts' body was a map of scars because of that suicidal fighting style.
But now, there was Aerith.
Another Wererat claw slipped past his guard, slicing his forearm. Fresh blood dripped.
It stung.
But what made Johnny grit his teeth wasn't the sting on his skin, but the image of Aerith, perhaps watering flowers at her home, suddenly clutching her arm in mysterious pain.
"Forgive me, Aerith," Johnny thought, cold sweat trickling down his temple. "Just hold on a little longer... I need to awaken the monster inside me. I'll be more careful after this."
Johnny held his ground. He became an iron fortress. Every blow, every impact, every small cut he received wasn't wasted. He absorbed it. He swallowed the pain, turning it into fuel.
He felt the 'Vessel' in his soul begin to boil. Adrenaline pumped furiously. His heartbeat turned into a war drum.
That pressure... the despair of being outnumbered... that was the key.
Suddenly, the world in Johnny's eyes changed color. The edges of his vision turned dark red. The noise of the monsters faded, replaced by the roaring sound of his own blood.
Pitch-black aura—like smoke from hell—began to seep from Johnny's skin, enveloping his body.
MODE ACTIVATED: BERSERK STATE.
The heavy weight of his sword vanished. His body felt as light as a feather. The pain in his arm disappeared, replaced by an intoxicating euphoria of power.
Johnny grinned. His teeth looked stark white amidst his face darkened by the aura.
"Oiiii, Puck..." Johnny's voice sounded raspy, vibrating with a double echo. "Everything feels great... HAHAHAHA!"
A Gorger tried to bite his leg.
Without looking, Johnny kicked the monster in the face. It wasn't a normal kick—it was a kick powered by Berserk. The Gorger's head exploded like a rotten watermelon.
"Die, you flea!"
Johnny swung his sword with one hand. The speed was impossible. Three leaping Wererats were bisected in mid-air before their blood could even touch the ground.
The groans of the monsters turned into an orchestra of death, blissful music to the Black Swordsman's ears.
A cunning Wererat managed to jump onto Johnny's back, sinking its claws into his shoulder.
But Johnny didn't flinch. In this mode, pain was just information, not a hindrance. He grabbed the rat by the neck with his bare hand, squeezed until a wet crack echoed, and threw the carcass onto the scrap pile.
Suddenly, from behind the highest pile of trash, a massive shadow leaped down.
Wraith Hound.
A demon dog with fire on its back and fangs as long as a human arm. The creature growled, spewing fire from its mouth.
"Now it's getting fun..." Johnny licked his dry lips. The black aura around him churned wilder. "Puck! I'm going to try your stupid theory!"
The remaining monsters—about eight of them—surrounded Johnny alongside the Wraith Hound.
Johnny gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands. He twisted his waist, pulling the sword far back, condensing all the momentum of his body rotation.
His mouth opened, and with a bit of embarrassment masked by rage, he shouted:
"WHIRLWIND STRIKE!!"
SWOOOSH-KABOOM!
Johnny spun like a top of death. His greatsword created a terrifying vortex of sharp wind.
The logic of this world answered his call. The shout made his blade glow red for a moment, extending the range of his slash.
Wererats and Gorgers within a three-meter radius weren't just cut—they were shattered. Body parts flew in every direction. The massive Wraith Hound was thrown backward, its tough hide torn open.
Johnny didn't stop. His rotational momentum was still there.
He used the centrifugal force to run toward the Wraith Hound struggling to stand.
"Not done yet, Fire Dog!"
Johnny stabbed the tip of his sword into the ground right in front of the monster, using the hilt as a pole vault. He launched his body into the air, somersaulting forward over the Wraith Hound's head.
At the peak of his height, Johnny yanked his sword from the ground with one powerful jerk, then let gravity and the weight of the iron fall with him.
"SOMERSAULT SLASH!!"
CRACK!
The sword slammed directly into the Wraith Hound's skull. No roar. No resistance. The monster's head was split in two down to the neck, hitting the ground with an impact that sent dust flying two meters high.
"You're amazing, Boss!" Puck shouted from atop a lamppost, clapping wildly. "That was insane! Just like when you fought Zodd back in the day, but the energy-saving version!"
Johnny landed, breathing heavily. Black smoke still rose from his shoulders. He pulled his sword from the Wraith Hound's carcass with a wet squelch.
One last Gorger, trembling in fear, tried a desperate attack. It ran straight at Johnny.
Johnny didn't dodge. He held his sword level with his waist, the tip pointing forward. He didn't shout this time, just whispered coldly.
"Brutal Thrust."
THWACK.
The thrust was so fast and hard that it pierced the Gorger's chest, went through its back, and embedded itself into the bus carcass behind it. The monster was pinned dead instantly.
Silence.
Only the sound of the wind and blood dripping from the tip of the Scrap Greatsword remained.
Slowly, the black aura faded. Johnny's eyes returned to normal. His shoulders slumped as the adrenaline left his body, replaced by immense fatigue.
"We're done, Puck," Johnny murmured. "This... felt easier than I expected."
Puck flew down, landing on Johnny's shoulder. "Easy because you're a monster, Boss. Normal people need a whole party to kill a Wraith Hound."
Johnny didn't answer. He began the post-battle ritual he knew by heart: Looting.
He sliced off valuable parts from the monsters with a small knife. Wererat claws, Wraith Hound fangs, and a few Potions that for some reason dropped from the Gorger's stomach (the logic of this world was indeed strange).
After everything was in his bag, Johnny sat on an old drum. He looked at his arms and shoulders. There were several deep scratches and blue bruises that were starting to throb.
Johnny looked at the wounds with a guilty gaze.
"Forgive me, Aerith," he whispered to the wind. "Just for a little while... please endure this pain."
Puck patted Johnny's cheek gently.
"Next week you have to apologize to her in person, Boss. Bring flowers or something. Don't just apologize to the wind."
Johnny smiled faintly, rubbing the little fairy's head with a finger stained by monster blood.
"Of course, Puck. Of course. I'll bring her a flower that can never wither."
Johnny bandaged his wounds with makeshift cloth, then stood up. The sun began to lean to the west, turning the Sector 7 sky a rusty orange. Training for today was over.