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Damn fast with the rockets, she catalogued, calling up the brief eight second engagement while her blue eyes traced its structure. Actually knows martial arts too, Ranma scowled mentally with the thought, only managing to keep the emotion from her face while maintaining her trademark smirk like a martial arts technique. Still, the fact that it had not actually learned the art grated against every fiber of her being. The girl had programmed the robot, and it was the closest thing to martial arts blasphemy Ranma had encountered to date.

Battle doji aside, the martial artist amended, and let a slightly sharper edge to her smirk develop. In either case, it didn't matter. She was going to enjoy beating this thing and it programming just as much as enjoyed putting the battle doji down for the count.

Hell is a Martial Artist, Chapter 8

Collection Size: 43642 entries (Last Updated: Mon Oct 17 22:44:07 2022)

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