Martial God Reborn As A Robot

CHAPTER 07

Sasha’s breaths came in ragged pants, thighs trembling as she spread them wider for Tucker's gaze, letting him scan the way her ass lifted off the bed, toes curling into the sheets.

Sweat glistened on her skin, trickling down her neck to pool between her breasts. She added a third finger, stretching her cunt with lewd stretches, imagining the robot's future upgrades.

 'Fuck, I can’t wait to be fucked by you someday,' she moaned, scissoring her fingers deep, hitting that spongy spot that made her vision blur.

And she climaxed.

Again, Tucker cleaned the sheets.

Tuckdore resisted, but there wasn’t much he could do.

This happened almost every morning. Sasha pleasured herself while Tucker watched. She did not let him put his fingers in her like she did on the first day because she was not sure if the soul in Tucker liked her yet or not.

Five days passed very quickly for her, but the same time felt like a semi-eternity for Tuckdore.

After all, he was not able to do anything but just watch.

The next morning.

A parrot robot took them to the Twelve Peaks.

Sasha asked her parents to come and watch, but they were busy with their jobs, so they couldn’t attend.

That day, Sasha entered the Twelve Peaks Battlefield for the first time. This place had exactly 12,000 stages where fights took place every single day.

The big stages had seats for the audience, but the smaller ones did not.

The stage number Tucker was assigned to was 12,000, the last stage where there was not a single onlooker.

Only the referee and the opponent were there. Even the opponent’s keeper did not come. This was an insult to Sasha.

“Shit, that’s an F-grade robot,” Sasha told Tucker. “It will have some kind of ability for sure. Be careful and figure out its weaknesses on your own.”

Soon, the referee gave them the weakest soulbinding serum that would allow the souls to have at best ten percent sync rate.

This allowed Tuckdore to control the body again, though his sync percentage with the body was still less than one percent.

“The rules are simple,” the referee said. “If you give up, fall off the stage, or go out of commission for longer than ten seconds straight, then the match is over.”

A razor-thin wall of light swept across the arena. This was the start signal.

The opponent’s robot squatted and leaped at once. It tried to kick Tuckdore’s abdomen and send him flying.

Tuckdore stepped to the side and dodged it. As the robot passed by, he made a chopping motion and precisely struck the neck of the robot.

The opponent crashed down and was fazed by it for a second, but then got back up without a problem.

“Mm…” Tuckdore looked at his own hand. “I thought it would cut the neck. This body is pretty poor.”

“Where are you looking!” The opponent crafted a spinning kick that came like a whirlwind.

Tuckdore raised his arm and blocked it. His arm suffered a big dent, but he was able to withstand the attack.

The opponent stepped back and went for a swift punch this time.

Tuckdore kept moving back and observed the opponent. “Mm… his movements are wide, but his attacks are sharp. If I had to gauge him using a knight’s standard, he’s better than a trainee and would make a decent apprentice.”

The opponent got frustrated because of Tuckdore constantly dodging the punches very closely. So he roared and threw a mad punch that launched his forearm out like a missile.

Tuckdore ducked back and dodged that as well.

The opponent grinned because the forearm took a U-turn and attacked Tuckdore from behind.

Tuckdore rushed forth and dashed past the opponent, and the firing forearm smashed right into the opponent’s face, completely knocking him out.

The referee was surprised. “An X-grade robot with an insignificant sync rate won against an F-grade robot with nearly seven percent sync rate? This is surprising.”

“My robot may be an X-grade,” Sasha quickly showed the referee Tucker’s license while jumping on toes in excitement. “But he passed the preliminary test in flying colors.”

The referee was surprised to see a gold badge on the license card, which was the second top grade given to those who successfully passed the preliminary test.

The badges were given in this order: copper, silver, gold, and platinum.

“Ahem, but its core is still an X-grade,” the referee said, almost smirking. “Its eyes are still white. So, even if WKG considers it worthy enough to fight in the Circuit, people won’t easily accept it as anything but X-grade unless it shows above average skill. But I didn’t see anything other than a fox outwitting an angry bear. While it was interesting to watch, it’s nothing to be fascinated about.”

He then sent her 10,000 Nex as reward for winning the match.

“Get your robot fixed and notify us,” he told her. “Then we’ll arrange the next match.”

Even though Tucker won the match, Sasha couldn’t be that happy because of the referee’s discouraging words.

“Let’s go to a restaurant first, and then we’ll get you fixed, Tucker,” Sasha said and went to a restaurant.

There was a lot of commotion inside the restaurant.

“What’s going on?” Sasha asked someone.

“A Rank 4 Soulbinder is here.”

“Whoa…” Sasha’s eyes lit up. “Rank 4 means they’re a specialist. I want to get an autograph.”

“What’s a soulbinder?” Tuckdore asked.

Sasha was startled for a second. She wasn’t expecting Tucker to talk. “Y-You… Didn’t the referee give you soul-severing serum?”

“No,” Tuckdore said.

Sasha frowned. “He must have not wanted to waste a serum because your sync rate wasn’t even one percent. But this is for the better. I can get to know you better. You won’t harm me, will you?”

Tuckdore kept staring at her.

“W-Why aren’t you saying anything?” Sasha made a cute face.

“My name is not Tucker. It’s Tuckdore.”

Sasha blinked twice. “Tuck door? That’s the shittiest name I’ve ever heard. It sounds weird. Forget that name right now. You will be Tucker from now on. Got it?”

Her words were like a command, and it put a lot of stress on Tuckdore’s soul. Tuckdore frowned, which slightly reflected on his face. “Yes, my name will be Tucker from now on.”

“Good. Now elbow your way through this crowd and get an autograph from that rank 4 specialist,” she ordered. “It will sell for at least a thousand nex. Ahem, I mean, it’s worth a lot.”

Tucker did not know of the word ‘autograph,’ but the software installed in the machine automatically told him what it was.

“Where should I get an autograph?” Tucker asked her.

“Oh, I forgot,” Sasha pulled out her easily-removable bra. “Make him sign on this one.”

Tucker rolled his eyes once and then entered the restaurant.