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/jp/ - Otaku Culture

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>> No.36315901 [View]
File: 442 KB, 772x1227, BBattler_Console_%2821%29[sound=files.catbox.moe%2F32q9l5.mp3].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
36315901

>>36315883
They know better than to poke a sleeping bear

>> No.35259814 [View]
File: 443 KB, 772x1227, BBattler_Console_%2821%29[sound=files.catbox.moe%2F32q9l5.mp3].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
35259814

>>35259747
Kill them anon cmon do it!!

>> No.34942279 [View]
File: 443 KB, 772x1227, BBattler_Console_%2821%29[sound=files.catbox.moe%2F32q9l5.mp3].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
34942279

>>34938832
Kill your mom anon, it's the only way to go back to the original timeline. It's really easy you just need the balls to do it

>> No.34728200 [View]
File: 443 KB, 772x1227, [sound=files.catbox.moe%2F32q9l5.mp3].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
34728200

Red. That crimson colour can be unsettling, frightening, and yet... there’s something so... enlightening about it.
Once it spills from a living human, they’re injured. They are human, proven purely by the presence of the liquid emanating from the wound. If that red comes out more and more, a never-ending deluge of wet sloppy blood, then the wound is great. If that blood stops spilling, well...
You know they’re dead.
Their blood is coming out quickly right now. Draining from their faces, a massive chunk carved out by something entirely human, something that had long been on the island they had lived on, slept on for so many years. Done entirely by a being they knew so much, and yet clearly so very little about.
The empty cartridge plinks out with a pump of the lever, a new one loaded with but a flick of the arm. Another bullet is needed for tonight’s events, so another cartridge is inserted, easily done in the quiet interim between targets.
Each footstep taken through their grim remains creates another dark red mess, leading a new path that would be entirely traceable, so I deftly avoid stepping in their viscera. Not that it matters. If the others found me out that easily, I’d merely inflict upon them the same kind of destructive punishment.
Through the hallway now. Two bodies have already been left in my wake. Four more are required.
Four remain in the dining room. They will be easy pickings. Were I not acting from a position of ambush, perhaps they would stand a chance. As their situation is right now though... Hihihi. It doesn’t look good for them.
Key in the lock. Turn.
“Excuse me, everyone. I have something important I wish to announce.”
“Hm? Oh, I thought you’d be at the guesthouse-”
Bang.
One body collapses. Face erased in an instant, the upper brain wiped out easily.
Pump.
“D-Dear! W-Why did you-”
Bang.
Another body. She was too in shock to react. All too easy to take care of. Given a minute, even perhaps a few more seconds, her end may have been more dignified, more full of righteous vengeance. Not here, though. Not against me.
Pump.
“B-B-”
Bang.
Not even a chance to say a word. Her brains splatter against the windows. That’ll be a pretty sight for those in the guesthouse in the morning.
Pump.
“I-I won’t let ya-”
Bang.
He almost had enough time to react. If I didn’t know how this gun worked, if I hadn’t trained in its usage for this precise moment, he may have been able to approach me in time. It doesn’t matter though.
He’s dead.
Pump. A reflex, at this point. I expect no further killings tonight.
The rest come tomorrow.
The gun’s warmth tingles in my hands. Six bullets shot out of its chamber today, each landing its mark. No doubt I’ve made better use of it than its previous owner had in their life.
I breathe in the smell of death, and find it quite satisfactory.
Out the door. Closed. Key in the lock. Turn.
Down the hallway, all the way to the main door.
Key in the lock. Turn.
Umbrella out now. No sense in getting soaked. I’ve done so well remaining clean so far, after all. Key goes back in the lock. Turn.
Through the garden. It’s peaceful right now, no intruders roaming its domain other than me. Of course, I’m no intruder; I’m an expected presence.
To the guesthouse. Key in the lock. Turn.
Repeat the same once inside. Carefully, quietly making my way to the first stop. Not in the purpose of stealth – my late entry was already known of – but simply out of courtesy to those already sleeping.
The gun goes next to the door, leaned up against the wall. My offering to those who remain in the realm of dreams in this room.
To the next stop.
Up the stairs.
Through the door.
The cousins remain asleep.
I head to my bed.
My dreams are filled with the maid I made a promise to, so long ago.
I will fulfil that promise, and pay my debt in blood.

>> No.34713966 [View]
File: 443 KB, 772x1227, BBattler_Console_%2821%29[sound=files.catbox.moe%2F32q9l5.mp3].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
34713966

>>34713940
I wish the real black battler poster would show up again he has soul!

>> No.34703572 [View]
File: 443 KB, 772x1227, BBattler_Console_%2821%29[sound=files.catbox.moe%2F32q9l5.mp3].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
34703572

Imagine battler raping maria as she squeaks out UU-UU MAMA MAMA! god that's so hot

>> No.34679704 [View]
File: 443 KB, 772x1227, 1620086759159.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
34679704

>>34679693

>> No.34577292 [View]
File: 443 KB, 772x1227, BBattler_Console_%2821%29[sound=files.catbox.moe%2F32q9l5.mp3].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
34577292

>>34576582
I remade your image with the better fascism version

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