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At last, a gas station. A modern day oasis on the desert road. Goemon had gotten bored of waiting for Lupin to be done with the preparations for the current heist, and had decided to make himself useful by getting extra gas for the Fiat. He had trekked alongside the pavement, using the time to meditate.
This week's heist was another weird one. Fujiko had learned about a specific spot in the desert that presumably did something at midnight. Only then would the gang find a new ancient treasure. And of course, she made Lupin do the work for her. Nothing Goemon hadn't handled before.
He opened up a plastic can, and began helping himself. It was quiet for a moment, no grumbling from Jigen, no quips from Lupin. Just the heat in the wind and the glug of the dispenser. The convenience store doors binged open in the distance as someone walked out. For once, a part of the heist was truly boring. Goemon reveled in it a little.
Until the doors binged open again, an attendant storming out yelling.
"You! You, sir, you have to pay!"
Goemon looked up at the commotion. Surprisingly, the person being yelled at was a tall, goat-like being with a huge jaw of steel teeth where a head would be. On their shoulder was a large gas container, much larger than the one Goemon had brought. In it's free hand it held a case of beer. They groaned and ignored the screaming cashier.
Goemon paid the grumbling monster no mind. Probably a lost Burning Man attendee. He continued filling up the gas container.
"STOP! It's illegal to steal merchandise!" The attendant futilely shouted.
The supposed Burning Man-goer finally turned to face them. "Yeah," he replied in a flat tone. "That’s half the fun of gas station runs.”
"You can't just leave without paying!!" The poor employee continued to sputter
"You expect me to pay that much for shit like this??" The creature gestured to the sign behind him.
Goemon looked up at the sign. 4 American dollars and 80 cents a gallon. Damn, those prices really were bad. Oh well, it's not like he was planning on paying for it anyway.
“I won’t tell you again, pay for your items or I’ll call the cops." The attendant stated as firmly as they could, pulling a cellphone out of their pocket and brandishing it like a weapon.
“You know what?” The creature put down his things, approaching the attendant before snatching them by the collar. The employee buckled up, paralyzed in fear. Beads of sweat began to pool into their shirt as the goat thing pulled them closer to it's face.
"I don't owe you shit, buddy." His voice rumbled.
With that, the creature unhinged his jaw for a full-force SNAP! Blood gushed from the attendant's neck and sprayed onto the windows. Much more blood than what seemed normal, spewing everywhere and hitting the pavement hard enough to make a disgusting noise.
Oh shit.
He really wasn't playing around in an elaborate costume. That guy was an actual fuckin' monster.
Slowly, Goemon grabbed the gas canister and backed away.
"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" The thing growled before dropping the body. "I hear you, dipshit."
Goemon didn't stop. His muscles were tense and ready for action.
The monster licked the blood off his jaws as he pulled out a long battle axe from... somewhere. It was a gorgeous thing, really. Worn and battle-scarred, but still glinting in the orange sunlight. It would've been nice to gawk at and perhaps steal if it wasn't being used to kill. The creature was hunched, winding up for another attack.
"You wanna end up like him?" It snarled, a hunger for blood in his voice.
"Not particularly." Goemon replied, tempting fate.
Hunched and growling one moment, the monster lunged for him the next. Goemon in turn ran towards him, leaping gracefully as he drew his sword.
SHNG!!
The two landed a few feet away from each other, backs turned.
For a split second, everything was still.
Until a thin, diagonal line appeared across the axe. Slowly, half of it inched away from the base, and clattered to the ground. The goat thing looked at the clean cut in shock, steel jaws agape.
Goemon sheathed the Zantetsuken, and calmly collected his container of gasoline.
What the actual fuck.
Some scrawny guy in a bathrobe just split Balsac's axe in half.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
Wait. He had only sliced the axe. Balsac was still perfectly capable of harming the guy.
That fucker's going easy on me!!
He tried to put his head on straight. Clearly, this guy was some sort of freak of nature. Maybe he was only pretending to be human. He had the means to at least *try* to kill Balsac, but for some reason, didn't. A human. Human. A human felt the need to hold back. A frail, squishy, STUPID human, who had the audacity to taunt him. A fucking. HUMAN BAG OF FILTH. Decided that they were too good for their overlord, and spared him.
The pole of his battle axe shook in his hands, before he threw it to the ground and stormed towards his assailant. He grabbed him by the back of the collar like the attendant from earlier, holding him up like a scruffed kitten.
"What the fuck's your deal?" Balsac asked as calmly as he could muster.
"Unhand me." They simply replied.
"C'mon, just tell me your name."
"Unhand me immediately." He readied Zantetsuken.
"Hey, don't pull any shit." Balsac tapped his jaws.
Goemon loosened his grip on his sword. "I have been trained to wield this sword since I was very young. That is all you need to know."
"Yeah, and I've been swinging that axe since before you were born. How'd you fucking beat me?"
The samurai's eyes shifted up as if he were contemplating a hard question. "How long have you been using it?"
"I dunno, millennia?"
"Then perhaps all I needed was decades of training to surpass a millennia of yours."
"What'd I say about pulling shit?" Balsac growled as he shoved his mouth into Goemon's face, only an inch away from cleaving his head off.
Instinctively, Goemon brought his feel together and kicked Balsac in the chest, which was enough to catch him off guard and make him drop Goemon. He drew Zantetsuken again, tapping it with the sheath.
"Don't pull any shit." He mocked.
Okay. This guy pissed Balsac off, but at least he was funny. He lunged forth once more, ready to rip this asshole asunder. Or rip his asshole asunder, he'd decide later.
Goemon, ready for anything, darted to the side, Zantetsuken at an angle.
SHRK!!
The two skidded to a halt, Balsac expecting flesh to bite into, but finding none. A morsel of blood dripped into his mouth.
He turned around to find a gash across the arm of his sparring partner. Goemon looked at it, eyebrows flying up before putting a stone face back on and picking something up off the ground.
A sharp rock, about three inches long, cut from the armor off of Balsac's back.
FUCK.
This guy's nonchalant nature and inherent coolness made Balsac's blood boil. He wanted so badly to rip this guy limb from limb, but the better part of his brain knew that would take too long.
Instead, he straightened back up, and went to pick up his container of gas and case of beer. Goemon, in turn, picked up his own.
The two happened to lock eyes. Goemon wasn't entirely sure where this thing's eyes were, but eye contact was felt. Once again, for a brief moment, there was quiet.
"…
You're weird as hell." The goat thing stated.
"I get that a lot."
And so the samurai went on his way, eventually disappearing into the darkening sky. I'll kill him one day. Balsac thought. Maybe. But for now, he had to find where Blothar had parked the Viking Death Machine. He trudged along as another thing dawned on him.
How the hell am I going to fix my axe?