An enraged man is truly dangerous. He has the strength, the motivation, and the resilience to come and destroy the source of his anger. This physical augmentation comes with a cost: one under this state disables most, if not all, of his logical facets. A setback established by nature to balance one's cognitive and affective aspects...

  This series of experiments aims to find a means to fill the cognitive void when one becomes unreasonably angered. We are to find out if the final results would involve one who is well-aware of himself while keeping the advantages of a stimulated berserk state...

  ... The first experiments on using the rage serum on sentient beings were a partial success. Nine of the fifteen variables survived the initial shock triggered by their infusion with blood. I have drawn a few conclusions from the results extracted during the testing:

  First, one must be of considerable mass to endure the effects of the serum entering the brain. Larger people can more effectively distribute the serum with relative ease compared to smaller-framed individuals. This I have derived from the results gathered from Rack Two, whose body managed a smoother transition of the serum into his system while showing the least resistance among the rest. His body showed the smallest spread of the aggravation caused by the synthetic hormone, and thus it was confined to an area where it should have the best effect.

  Second, the serum should be introduced gradually to the subject rather than being given all at once on a single dose. A volume-to-mass ratio must also be devised to fuse specific amounts to achieve desired effects. It is a shame that some of the subjects had deficiencies in terms of coping with the serum's introduction, and thus, trickle feeding did not produce optimal results.

  Third, setting subjects to a state of rage or despair before administering the serum accelerates the effect to favorable results. I have noticed this trait with all the surviving samples, especially on Rack Twelve. He was the most affected after three of his former allies deserted their ranks, and was more enraged watching the other samples perish one by one. It has been proven in this test that exploiting the emotional weaknesses of future samples is necessary to ensure successful applications and proper administration of the mental manipulation modules.

  -Goehler, R. (7-2-17). Journal of Experimentations (Vol. 149, pp. 540-547). Glenheim: Imperial Scientific Bureau

  ????

  There was no sense of alarm: two people were not enough to shake the very foundations of the Gray Fox's group. He still felt the need to inform his weapons expert that something had to be done.

  The graying syndicate leader passed by Hollegrehenn's metalworks. A piece of a Class 64's torso armor was hoisted by chains from the ceiling, which in turn secured its place on top of a pedestal-like mount. Four gun-like machines appeared and surrounded the mounting, which were slowly poised to be at level as the armor piece. Streams of blue flames coursed over the metal, encircling the torso plate until the metal was given a charred appearance. The crime lord did not stand long to see the pedestal sinking to a pool of water at the bottom center of the machine.

  He entered a long hall with an arched ceiling supported by steel frames. Lines of Class 64 constructs stood at his left and right, while some crewmen were spraying a layer of heavy white mist all over the automatons' frames. Those that were coated glinted under the lamps; a scent of something similar to frozen kerosene created a thin layer that hung not too far from the deactivated machines.

  A familiar rotund man was present among those who were checking on the conditions of the eight returned units. His spectacles probed on the soot-marked arms, the ash and blood spots on the legs, and the rose back to the heads where the glow of their eyes had long faded.

  "Ah, it's you, Doctor." Hollegrehenn almost jumped when his superior's shadow crept to his head. "These machines are well; these units have done their jobs."

  "There are a few things I'd like to discuss with you, Doctor Hollegrehenn." The Gray Fox's neutral stare was darkened by the lamp behind him. "This is regarding the quality of the steel plating used for the Class 64s. Have you been given a copy of a recording of how three of the twelve machines were destroyed?"

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Hollegrehenn's spectacles were pushed up the bridge of his nose. He hadn't been informed of any such recording. "I received none from the task force unit."

  "Very well, I have a copy of the incident. Let us go to your study and watch everything with me." The Gray Fox went near the weapons designer. "I'd like you to watch the recording retrieved from the Third Team."

  "Then let's head to my office, Doctor."

  Hollegrehenn's projector saw more use than even the syndicate leader's. It was propped at the ceiling in the near-center of the room with its seeing sphere hatch opened and ready to accept the next recording. The Gray Fox handed the sphere to a big, greasy palm, which in turn placed it inside the device

  Both the leader and his chief artisan approached the table. A glow on the wall marked the start of the recording; blurry eyes gazed at a burning structure in front. The firefight stretched on too long. Hollegrehenn turned away and fiddled with a clockwork bird atop his desk, but his superior did not seem to mind the carnage.

  Minutes more into the recording led to what the mechanics expert deduced to be the point of concern. There was a battle that raged between a lone attacker and a team of Class 64s. A lithe form wearing clothes of a probably foreign nature, with agility unlike any gunman the constructs put down along the way. The fighting machines struggled with taking a proper aim and returning fire at the attacker. Fire was seen on the right side of the recorder's vision – the first of the three machines now lay a burning wreck. More minutes into the incident, a one-sided battle, with the rest of the battle constructs reduced to blazing hulks in a matter of minutes. The recording ended with the last construct having difficulty in dislodging its claws from the ground right before flames started to flush its eyes in red and yellow.

  "That, man... took down both of them using two pistols?"

  "I was wondering if Imperial-made rounds could deliver such blows to your steel."

  "It is impossible, Doctor." Hollegrehenn stepped back and returned with a sample of the steel plating. "I was sure that the carbon was properly distributed to the metal. You are aware of it, since you supervised the whole process with me. It's technically impossible for conventional bullets to pierce the surface too easily."

  "Even at point-blank ranges?"

  Hollegrehenn pulled out a pistol from his laboratory coat, took aim at a deactivated construct, and fired. The bullet bounced off the armor and lodged in the ceiling. No scratch or dent was found on the automaton when he drew closer to inspect the impact.

  "I see your point, Doctor Hollegrehenn." The crime lord stared at the screen, a white void—empty now, yet still echoing with fire. "This man might have possessed a gun of foreign make."

  "Most likely so, with a technology none of Kriemreich is aware of." The syndicate machinist withdrew his weapon to his coat holster. "Are you concerned that our rivals may already have a few of such weapons in their hands?"

  "I see that as far from being a threat, at least for now. They could have started destroying each other the moment these arms were free in the markets." The Gray Fox stood up and retrieved the sphere from the projector's casing. "You should not be too concerned with that, as they still have to look for us should they decide to hunt us down. I'd rather that you focus on how to reinforce the armor's weak points."

  "Unless the attacker has piercing rounds or explosive-packed ammunition... it is impossible to carry either in pistols."

  "An amusing concept, but bullets infused with magical energy may deliver such power to a gun." The crime lord smirked, but he shook the thought off his head. "I am not aware that Luminberger development has reached beyond that of projection staffs attached to energy packs."

  "Then do you imply that this man is an agent of Luminberg?"

  "A far possibility, knowing that the lord of Luminberg is more into studying the old arts than assisting the empire militarily," The Gray Fox answered. "You made a good point, but still. I should not discount that agents of the Empire have secrets beyond our reach."

  "The best I could do is to try and create this unknown bullet."

  "Better not delve too much into that, Doctor Hollegrehenn. It will consume too much time for us to develop a proper countermeasure. We can only be aware of our constructs' weaknesses and address them using our resources."

  "Much is true."

  "I should leave you to your work now."

  The Gray Fox walked to the door out of Hollegrehenn's study. The Dragon's Claw, or whatever was in control of Fortune's Smile, was dead; its prominent remnants now sitting firmly under his control. He had a feeling that this would not be the last time that man and the robed one were to cross paths with him.