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"Because I'm cute, cuddly, and my smart remarks entertain the masses?" Krausse responded with a shrug.

As Ed advanced with the spinning crowbar in his hand, Krausse held out his arm to the side with his metal rod in hand, angling it so that the end pointing at Ed was directed at his stomach and the end pointing at Krausse was directed to the ground next to his foot. If Ed kept moving and didn't stop or redirect himself, he would fall straight into Krausse's trap, to be sprung shortly.

"That's a big one you've got there," Krausse remarked with a wink. "But do you know how to use it, sailor?"

If Ed refused to change up his movement pattern from a direct approach, then as soon as he was within two feet of Krausse, the cyborg would slide up the big red button on the side of his rod. A depressurizing sound would emit from it as the locks released and an extra four feet and two inches of tungsten staff would extend. Two feet plus one extra inch of that length would plow straight into Ed's stomach. The implied message was, of course: Mine's bigger.

In some situations, you have to take a hit to give a hit. For Krausse, the hit he was about to take was hardly equal to the hit he was about to give, and that was the way he worked: win no matter the cost. Leonard had nearly shredded part of his spinal chord, and at one point in the past Krausse had even been hit with air strike - but they were things he had to do in order to achieve victory, even if it was eventual. Immortality meant that victory might even come several generations down the line of the immortal's opponent. In this case, Krausse hopefully wouldn't have to wait for a victory and if he lost the battle, then he wouldn't wage a war against one of his few honest-to-goodness friends.

However, just because Ed was Krausse's friend did not mean that, when Ed came at Krausse with intends to go Pete Townshend powerslide on his sternum, Krausse wouldn't reach up with his free left fist and drive it straight into Edward's testicles in a vicious uppercut that would probably send the two children smacking hard against Edward's pelvis. While Krausse was indeed sent flying back a few feet with the breath knocked out of him - but luckily nothing fractured or broken due to his stronger-than-normal bone structure - and his vision spotted, Edward would most likely be puking painfully.

"Birdies..." Krausse wheezed out, bit-by-bit. Recovering far faster than a human meant that he would be up on his feet in a good twenty seconds instead of five minutes. The lack of breath made it hard to stand; the fact that Krausse's head felt like he'd dipped it into a tesla coil made it impossible.

A loud smacking sound coincided with the first impact, followed by a vicious snarl from Edward once his cyber-brain registered the hit. It felt unbelievably good to be fighting again, but the feeling was unfortunately short-lived. Before Krausse was sent flying away, the cyborg's uppercut connected as solidly as one could possibly connect with a moving traget. Which was quite a bit.

Ed's first reaction. Pain. Just pain. Simply unbearable pain. Then he fell to the floor on his side, dropping his weapon on the way down as he grabbed his junk with both hands. The cyberpunk groaned, feeling like weeping but maintaing his composure despite the intense pain. He felt sick. Like he could puke. <********, like Krausse, he'd recover much faster than your typical human being, albeit not quite like his opponent had. The fellow cyborg was definitely designed better, and was by far stronger and more resilient than the punk could ever hope to be. The cyborg stood up haggardly, retrieving his weapon slowly, giving Krausse the evil eye.

He began walking, limping but still spinning his weapon skillfully in his right hand.

"You're an a*****e, boss." He stated plainly, holding his ground once he saw that Krausse was on the move. Shifting his weight, Edward attempted to stand straight and hold the pain until his cells assisted by nanomachines began the numbing process. The cyberpunk hopped on the balls of his feet in a boxing stance; grimacing as he prepared for his incoming opponent. Krausse approached and Ed jabbed out with his right arm. The crowbar elongating his reach as he aimed to stab his opponent in the chest with the small end of the weapon.

"Tch!"

Yusuke's advance was stopped by the stomp to his kneecap. That was a rough move on Kenji's behalf. That was clearly street tactics, moves that held no qualms about formal engagements. Just quick damage in the best ways possible. The kid didn't fall since the kick wasn't from the side, but damn, did it hurt like a b***h! Time to repay the favor.

"Anyone tell you you're---"

"Hgn!"

Kenji got his words cut off swiftly as Yusuke threw his own stomp forward using his right foot, only this was a push kick, and it was aimed at his gut area, aiming to soften it up a little more after hitting it with a good solid punch earlier in the fight. Good thing about aiming for the face: it dropped the guard below.

"Less talking, more fighting!"

If he even had the time to notice, he would see some blood on Yusuke's lip from that punch to the jaw. Looked like he was able to get a smack at his mouth, too.

6

To be quite honest, Edward wasn't very experienced with fighting guys this skillful with weapons. Be they only one specialization or many. Most of the cyberpunk's opponents were pretty straight-forward, metaphysically and not, with their fighting styles. It was surprising to see his opponent use his metallic staff to it's utmost potential. Not pleasant because the cyborg wasn't the sort to wank off to proper posture and martial arts skills. But it was refreshing, he guessed, although ultimately not as successful as Krausse would have surely liked.

The strike to his elbow was mostly successful, preventing a less than 2-inch puncture wound which Ed would have pulled had the attack been a success. Unnecessary damage was unnecessary. The crowbar subsequently fell out of his hands, but his arm (though really warm and numb now) was pretty much fine. After breaking said arm about a dozen times, the bone has grown back - slightly retarded after so many times - rather durable. Prognosis was simple. That arm was out of the fight for a moment or two.

Krausse came at Edward again, skillfully bringing the metallic rod down on the punk's toe. The attack came swiftly after attacking Ed's right arm, and so did the cyborg's left arm. Unfortunately for Krausse Kreuger. They'd trade shots. Krausse aimed for Ed's big toe, and Ed's left arm simply extended (powered by internal hydraulics) towards Krausse's nose/face.There wasn't any cocking of the shoulder; no rotation of the hips, only his prosthetic thrusting itself at the other cyborg's face. As if Edward's prosthetic limb needed all of that jazz to make his punches hurt. Untelegraphed and minus a whole lot of body weight behind the attack, the cyberpunk's punch still held the possibility of causing a hell of a lot of damage.

But the staff?

It struck Edward's prosthetic foot. A non-biological part of the punk's anatomy. A part he hadn't felt a single sensation from in over three years. The metal staff would likely ricochet as it struck at the metal underneath Ed's synth-skin and sneaker. This is the part where Krausse is supposed to feel extra crunchy.

The kid's hips twisted to the left as his right leg followed suit, pushing the snap kick off target enough to where it shot in front of his turning body and only pushed through the air, causing a ripple to ride along Yusuke's white tee. He stepped his right foot down, which dropped his leg within the space in between Kenji's footing, his thigh rubbing against the back of Kenji's, and nearly up against his left a** cheek. The fangirls back home were probably screaming their bras off at this subtle action. But he wasn't thinking about the morality of rubbing up against another man in the heat of battle, Yusuke's brown eyes shooting toward Kenji's face as his right arm swung down, snapping his hand closed around Kenji's left wrist, keeping to the left flank. After that, his left hand extended itself toward Kenji's collar bone, over his single-handed grapple. The grasp wasn't permanent. Merely a placeholder. Once his left arm crossed the distance, he let go, pulling his arm back.

He did not really care whether Kenji stopped his left arm or not. The plan was to merely get his hands busy. It was one of the old tricks of good ole kung fu, which showed that his training from his late teacher, Genkai, was beneficial. It complemented his street fighting style and gave him some technique, enough to survive in an encounter with someone as freestyle as Kenji. Yeah, Yusuke was reading the guy since the start of the fight, watching as he attacked. And from the few moves so far, Yusuke put him in the classification of the typical thug you fought on the streets who had the ability to shoot out fireworks. It was then, and only then, that Yusuke had the confidence to proceed with his offense.

"Hur!"

The next two actions came in a single flow of movement. His right hand that was pulled back balled into a fist, striking at Kenji's face from the side. The attack wasn't going to hit as powerful as he wanted it because something else was going on. The other move occurring was his right leg rising, kicking it forward at the back of Kenji's left leg that was laid in front of his right. It was a simple way of knocking Kenji's balance off, sending the fighter down into a kneel on one knee. The kid's movements were continuing even after this, but, as the rules of time goes, the river of seconds flows at the same rate for everyone. These string of movements weren't guaranteed, but let's find out.

7

Sometimes, Krausse gets caught in a situation where he completely and utterly loses the advantage and is forced to go on the defensive. When Ed's knee connected harshly with his face, Krausse was knocked backwards, albeit with a quick recovery from a backflip to give distance between himself and Edward. His nose had made that delicious crunch that made Krausse's blood get hot and adrenaline course through his veins, although the heated feeling he got was anger at his own stupidity for continually underestimating the cyborg's abilities; but to be fair to himself, it was rare that he fought an opponent such as Ed that had far more physical skill than magical and the intelligence to make good use of it.

Blood leaked down Krausse's face from his broken nose and he spat out a tooth, his eyes narrowed and focused in the look of a man who had caused countless deaths and was ready to cause one more. Ed had experienced fights with Krausse before; thus, he knew that as Krausse's adrenaline rose, it became harder and harder to differentiate a spar from a battle to the death. Now, this battle had reached that point where blood would coat the floor and the barbaric thews of the warriors within would try to best the other, even in severe injury or maybe even death would be the result. When Krausse's bloodlust rose and his eyes narrowed, victory must be achieved, even if he had to spear himself to get it.

"Come here quick so I can break you in two," Krausse called to Ed, the usual melody of his voice cut down to a succinct and menacing crow. The warrior spun his staff and assumed a defensive position with one leg slid back slightly and his staff held out in front of him at a diagonal angle with his hands spread apart a foot on the handle, allowing Krausse a wide range of maneuvers should Ed come at him.