Editing Godhorn Tech:Volume1 Chapter2 (section)

===Meanwhile at Horn Fortress 1===

“Heh heh. Yes, that’s right. Today has not been a productive day. I thought some shellfish would be simple enough, but that big wave dashed those hopes pretty quick.”

The black-haired martial artist grinned while seated with her arms around her knees.

Victia Magnumfist spoked up into the night sky.

“Sigh…another wasted day.”

She collapsed backwards.

She had stripped off her red dress, leaving her entirely nude. She knew she was alone here. Walking the circumference of the small island took less than a day. The ocean and forest provided plenty of resources, but there was no civilization to speak up.

It was a desert island.

And there was no hope of a ship happening by either. The horizon was not at all normal. That straight line dividing ocean from sky would occasionally ''blur'' with rainbow colors. This may not have been an ordinary location. Maybe it was surrounded by the miasma-belching cracks in the world and maybe it was separated out by some kind of magical barrier.

It was apparently known as Horn Fortress.

It was meant for the Lucifer Horn and its user’s logistical support. Tools could be made here and sent to the battleground or magical facilities could be built here to boost the Godhorn Tech’s power.

How did she know that? Because it was written here.

''She had discovered it after climbing the island’s tallest tree to take a look around. Orderly text was written out on the ocean surface shining in the light of the setting sun.

But the text had vanished after she blinked in surprise.

She figured it was some kind of magic. Maybe the ocean currents had been manipulated and maybe the ocean floor had been moved around.

“His name was Miyabi, wasn’t it? Goddamn that boy! Nwohhhh!!”

This place was freeing yet stifling.

She had stripped naked in an attempt to break the mold, but…

(It didn’t do a thing.)

Her stay on this desert island was like trying and failing to work up the urge to do anything at all in your own room. She could not find any motivation inside herself. It all felt so hollow. When the loneliness pushed in, she felt like crying.

In a harsher environment, where even fresh water was hard to come by, she might have been too busy surviving to feel this way, but this island had the plentiful resources of the ocean and a forest. She had not needed to travel far into the forest to find a pure spring, river fish she could catch by hand, wild bean sprouts growing in the shade, and colorful vegetable flowers. With a fire to cook it all, she could survive just fine.

But the ease of survival provided enough free time for the poison that was dissatisfaction.

She caught a mosquito between her fingertips while lying naked on the beach.

(I should stop moping around and complete today’s last round of stretches. Think of it like becoming a mountain hermit.)

The naked idiot sat back up, failing to realize she would be more of a beach hermit.

But then an impossible sensation pierced her.

She sensed someone’s gaze on her.

“?”

She covered her bare chest with one arm and turned her head on reflex.

There she found her peeping tom.

A bear taller than her was picking up and stretching her black underwear!?

She was indeed a martial artist.

She rolled and hopped to her feet instead of reaching for the axe stabbed into the beach. She calculated how much the sand would absorb the force of her feet as she kicked off of it. Then she loosely clenched her fists and moved to perfect striking range. All while barefoot and bare everything else as well.

The bear stood on its hind legs, but that was not what scared her.

“Really? A Shadow Treading Parasite!?”

A pair of yellow twinkles moved toward her across the ground.

This was an Undead type of Beast Nova that entered a large animal’s shadow to take control of its body. Its weakness was salt, the standard for purification. The thing crawled like a slug and could not leave the ground, so it could be defeated by luring the shadow toward some salt on the ground or pushing the host into the ocean using a series of attacks that would not directly damage the parasite. In that sense, a bear weighing more than 500kg was close to a worst-case scenario. Martial artists who tried to train as a mountain hermit would often lose their lives after deciding to test their skills on a bear like this. And the parasite did not care what happened to the host, so she could never win if she simply fought the animal.

(Blue Starting Pistol, Red Gale, and Yellow Wrath. I have several options for knockback moves, but this is still bad. If I start off focusing on that, it really limits my attack patterns. If I can’t end this quick, I’ll start looking pretty predictable.)

She also sensed a more personal crisis here.

Yes, wild bears did not wear black underwear. The item the bear was stretching between its front paws was the one Victia had abandoned on the beach. She felt silly for thinking she didn’t need clothes earlier. If those tore on this desert island, she was in serious trouble.

This may have been some kind of divine punishment.

A full smile spread across her face as she crouched low and moved in.

“Heh. Eh heh heh. There are so many tastier things out there. If you like, I could treat you to some plump river fish or juicy honeyco-.”

The beast stuffed the panties in its mouth.

When it began to chew, Victia Magnumfist snapped.

“You’re dead meat now! That was the one and only pair on the entire islaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand!!!”

When she rushed in, her opponent gave a joyous roar and raised its front legs.

But it was reacting to her long black hair, not the martial artist’s bouncing and jiggling flesh (raw meat?). It was more interested in the fluttering movement than any flavor or smell. But she could not afford to have any more of her clothing stolen from her for that reason.

She was stronger when not weighed down by the enormous axe.

The naked meathead worked her brain while using her clenched fists and flying kicks to forcibly knock the great mass of muscle toward the crashing waves.

(This can’t be the only Shadow Treading Parasite here. I need some kind of decoy to draw their attention, but what little cloth I have left is precious. If I want to live a wholesome, fully-clothed life here, I need to use as little cloth as possible on the decoys.)

A flash of insight came to the idiot.

“That’s it!! I’ll make swimsuits! The sexiest swimsuits I can think of! I can even make them out of shells, jewels, leaves, or caterpillar silk! I can defeat those monsters by mass-producing sexy swimsuits with materials found on the island!!!!!!”

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