The Visionary Kills Again.

This is Algeria. I'm typing this post on Malkator's behalf, because he seems to be too caught up in the game to type. He can't sit still long enough to write anything. We're hiding out in a giant bishop right now. I'm on his computer, he's off practicing with his new sword.

We had a pretty intense encounter earlier. I'll try to document what happened as best as I can. We were walking toward what we hoped was the center of the city. Suddenly this guy dual-wielding cutlasses jumped out of no where and attacked us. Malkator drew his knife and fought back. I surprised by how well he was doing. He only had one good arm and a knife and he still had the upper-hand against the man with two frickin' swords. It wasn't long before Malkator managed to crush one of his opponents collar bones with the handle of his knife.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" The man laughed. "This is an exciting game, isn't it? You must be loving the violence as much as I am, right?"
"Who do you work for?" Malkator demanded, putting his knife away and picking up the sword the man had dropped.
"I am a servant to the mistress of strings," He replied. "And you must be the Demi-God I've been warned about, right?"
"You're a willing doll, then?" Malkator asked.
"Uh-huh," He said.
"Do you know a man named Hiroshi Isamu?"
"Can't say I do," He answered. "So what do you think of this place? I this it's wonderful! All these people being forced to fight! It's like something the Mistress would put together!"
"You're getting on my nerves," Malkator said.
"You're right," He said. "We've still gotta continue our fight. But this time, I won't hold back."

Then they had a one-handed sword fight. It was pretty fast paced and I could barely follow what was going on. A few minutes in, Malkator managed to slash the man's throat. And that was the end of it.

"Well, that was disappointing," Malkator said. "He died way to quickly. I was hoping I'd be able to torture him a bit before ending his life." He then whipped out some of his tongues and ate the guys corpse. I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that.

The he undid the knots on his hoody and started flexing his arm.

"Is it okay?" I asked him.
"I can regenerate a bit by consuming energy," He replied, making the hoody into a makeshift belt and sliding the sword through it. He then handed me the other sword, saying we'd need to arm ourselves. We were about to leave the area when we noticed another competitor leaning against a wall.

"Who are you?" Malkator demanded, drawing his sword in one hand and his gun in the other.
"O'Zalia mentioned you before, Demi-God," He said. "He said you'd try to kill me soon."
"O'Zalia?" Malkator replied. "That means you're a slender proxy."
"That's right," He confirmed. "But not your average proxy." He stood up straight and punched the wall, causing a decent sized crack.
"You're an Enhanced," Malkator said.
"My full strength is limited right now," He said. "But even so, I'm one of the best."
"Would I be correct in assuming your name is Quan?" Malkator asked.
"That's right," He said. "You catch on fast. Any way, I didn't come to fight. I came to observe you. And you don't disappoint. Even in you injured state, you still fight like a boss."
"I was trained by Martyr Beta himself," Malkator said. "I don't like the man, but I won't deny that his training paid off in the end."
"But it's pretty obvious your strength is being suppressed as well," Quan said. "What do you say we put off our fight until we're both at full power, huh?"
"Sound like a fun challenge," Malkator said. "Try not to die before then."
"I could say the same to you," Quan said. Then he left.

And now we're here in this building, taking a rest. At least, I am. Malkator's still playing with his sword. I'm gonna go now. See you later.