[center][h2]Cap'n K. Runch vs. The Bashibozuk: Round 2[/h2][/center]

Stone and tile cracked. Floor had been shattered, a few pillars blackened and weak, and numerous pews had been completely eradicated, while others had been set ablaze. Captain Bartholomew K. Runch looked upon his handiwork with a feeling of disappointment. A frown and furrowed brow relayed his emotions. Bringing about this kind of destruction sucked, plain and simple. The place was beautiful! Ah, but between a beautiful ruin and his life, the choice couldn't be easier. Hopefully his opponent had been taken out in the explosion, but the cap'n wasn't going to count his strawberries before they ripened. That assassin was around here somewhere, defeated or able bodied. He couldn't afford to declare himself victor prematurely and give that man the opportunity for yet another cheap shot.

While captain K. Runch moved around in search of his quarry, the Bashibozuk took refuge in a dark doorway off the side of the large chamber hall. There was enough shadow that he could blend in well, enough cover that he could be reliably safe from attack, and enough room to move if the infidel spotted him. He placed his good hand on his face, flinching at the burning sensation. He lacked any way to visually confirm, but gauging how he felt Serhan estimated that about a third of his face had been melted in the explosion. Unacceptable. The cold-hearted killer's psychotic emotions began to well up. No target had ever proven this much trouble. No prey could fight back with such strength. This... [i]Bizarre[/i] display was overpowering his careful strategy and brilliance! This was not! Acceptable! The worst Serhan had ever experienced in the past was when he tracked that sikh through Istanbul. The sikh's bodyguard got the drop on him, but even then Serhan killed both men with only a scar on his chest to pay for it. No. No infidel was going to best the Bashibozuk. Hajji Serhan Güzelemöglu, the Sultan's Favorite, would get his mark. He just needed to recount his resources, the battlefield, and his enemy's abilities. Then he would create the ultimate tactic to slay this fool once and for all!

Cap'n K. Runch first checked near where his opponent had been when he set off the Hellberries. Apart from some burning flesh, there wasn't a trace of the man. As far as he was concerned, that confirmed his assailant to be well and active, so he maintained his guard. But how would he find this enemy? How could he fight someone that was at one with the shadows? So far he had been lucky to stave off the lethal ambushes. The first was spoiled by the man inside the screen, something that hasn't happened since so he couldn't count on that. The second time he just happened to catch sight of the attack a fraction of a second in time, and even then suffered for it. Twice in a row was fantastic, but he couldn't rely on luck for long. Would destiny pull a hat trick on him? Unlikely. Runch's nose crinkled as he checked around a corner, to no avail, then he sighed. How could he find this trained killer? He closed his eyes and remembered the advice of his first mate.

"When dealing with a ninja, remember that we will do anything to get the upper hand. There's no such thing as rulse in a battle to the death, or an assassination."

Runch suddenly found himself in the past, sitting aboard his ship not long after setting sail with his first two crewmates, Smith and Hachirou. It was largely circumstance he had been captain. Smith was starving, alone on a derelict vessel in the sea when Runch came along and saved his life. In return the ninja pledged his loyalty. Everything after that just sort of fell into place. An old cereal chef with hardly any combat experience to his name, suddenly in command of an elite shadow warrior, with more to follow. Smith took it upon himself to train the "captain."

[color=turquoise]"I can hardly find you around the ship as it is! How can I find someone that hides in the shadows and gets all dirty like that?"[/color]

"You don't," the ninja pirate answered earnestly.

[color=turquoise]"Well this'll go well,"[/color] Runch responded flatly.

"You don't find us. You let us find you. If I will take every possible advantage that I can, then you must let me-"

[color=turquoise]"Let them think they have the advantage..."[/color] the pirate captain murmured, back in the present. Well well, those many hours of getting knocked around by his subordinate were good for something other than training up his raw skill after all! 

Thinking quickly of a plan, Runch glanced around left and right for any sign of the Turkish man, then made his way back to the podium at the head of the cathedral hall. Once there, he spoke to put his plan into action. [color=turquoise]"Olly olly oxenfree! Come out wherever you are! ... No? Alright then, I give up. I'll just be sitting here until you're ready."[/color] With that, cap'n K. Runch kicked back on the spot, seemingly to relax.

Serhan watched from the shadows, half his face covered by torn cloth from his shirt. The pirate was now [i]mocking[/i] him. Or at least, that was how it appeared to Serhan. The assassin took in a deep breath to calm himself. The pig would be gut and skinned soon enough. He merely had to wait for the perfect opportunity. He had assessed the resources still on hand, counted off the traps that remained untriggered, and now he just had to ensure the prey took the optimal position. Luckily the pirate was moving into such a position now. He smiled to himself. While hiding behind that very same podium minutes before, the Bashibozuk had stuck a fragmentation bomb there, just in case. It just needed to be set off. The plan went through his mind, an intricate clock with winding, interlocking pieces. First draw the pirate's attention with a smoke bomb tossed at the opposite end of the hall. Then rush his position while his attention is momentarily elsewhere, and fire upon him with the guns on hand. Leave the grappling hook attached to this nook and kick the podium on the target, triggering the pressure-sensitive bomb. Tug the grapple and brace for the explosion's shockwave, recover in the air to safety. If he survives that point blank explosion, finish him off with sidearms.

One. Two. Three. [i]Go![/i]

Phase one in motion, Serhan tossed a smoke bomb as hard as he could clear on the other side of the cathedral hall. With a semi-loud poof it blasted into a large cloud of black smoke. Phase two engaged. Serhan ran as quickly as he could, ignoring all the pain resonating through his injured body. His left arm useless, he fired multiple shots at the pirate sitting at the podium, first draining his hidden sleeve revolver, then firing off two bullets from a secondary gun disguised as a cigarette box. His prey failed to react in time, taking every single bullet to the chest. Not good enough, he was inhumanly durable. Phase three, the distance had been cleared. His target was either dead, or his reaction time had dropped to zero thanks to the previous gut shot and now multiple bullet wounds. Serhan leaped into the air to drop kick the podium, surprised to find his body tugged back, violently striking the floor. What happened?! Had he misjudged the length of his grappling rope? No, that couldn't be it! Serhan braced his good hand against the floor to get up, yet met with strong resistance. Not only that, but he felt something... Sticky?

[color=turquoise]"Omnomnomnom! Got you!"[/color] That damn laugh! That annoying voice! Serhan did his best to look around, to see where it was coming from, but he struggled to move at more than a sloth's pace. By Allah, what [i]was[/i] this sticky stuff?!

[color=turquoise]"Bori bori honey trap."[/color] Runch moved into Serhan's view, kneeling down to meet his gaze. A very suggestive wink followed. [color=turquoise]"I experimented with tons of recipes to see what the best floor trap would be to immobilize my enemies, but nothing beat good ol' honey! Omnomnomnom!"[/color]

"You... How?!" The Bashibozuk spoke to his prey for the first time. "You are over there!" he attempted gesture with his head, but couldn't get more than a few centimeters of motion. "How are you here?!"

[color=turquoise]"Omnomnomnom! Now you're open to some conversation! Good! Well the me that you shot is just a replica! A delicious replica, filled with all the nutrients you'll need for a whole month! Omnomnomnom! I call it my bori bori mascot surprise!"[/color] The pirate captain stood up, drawing his spoonsaber. Serhan narrowed his eyes.

"Fine then. Send me to meet Allah, infidel. I will enjoy Paradise, while you will burn in holy fire!"

Runch quickly lowered his blade down onto Serhan, staying his hand just before striking the man down. Using the tip of his weapon Runch tapped around Serhan's body, feeling about until he found what he was looking for. With a swift slash, the Turk assassin's clothing was further torn, and the strap of his phylactery along with it.

[color=turquoise]"Killing is distasteful,"[/color] Runch commented, lifting the prize up to his eyes. [color=turquoise]"And taste is very important to a chef. Besides, the kids that invited me here mentioned there were other ways to win. I'm sure I can figure it out."[/color]

"Fool! Do you not realize that if you do not kill me, I will track you down until your dismembered corpse lies beneath my fe-OOMPH!" The sound of metal on flesh echoed in the hall, the flat end of the spoonsaber having struck Serhan's skull, knocking the man out cold. Runch sheathed his weapon and took a seat in one of the undamaged pews as he looked over both phylacteries now in his possession.

[color=turquoise]"Now let's see... Those kids said our souls were in here, and killing them frees it up. Now I don't want to kill nobody, so... Hrm... The soul is still in here, right? Do I... Finagle them? Break his? No no no, last resort. Don't want to kill his soul by accident. Um.. Hmm.."[/color] The musings continued on for several minutes as Runch contemplated the devices in his hands. How to be declared the winner without death? How to transfer the soul of one to the other? Time passed, the clock ticked as he fruitlessly pondered. Serhan even woke up once, only to be quickly clobbered over the head again. Finally, Captain Bartholomew K. Runch figured it out. Well, stumbled into the answer is more appropriate, but it was a victory all the same. Using the bottom end of his own phylactery, he was able to stab into the other.