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Borderlands: Apex Predator

Waking up in a different body and not only that but also in a different universe? After the initial shock, Maxwell was quite despairing of his fate when he realized that he had ended up in the Borderlands universe, specifically in Promethea. At least he wasn't a random bandit on Pandora, but even on a safe planet, he felt anything but safe. Borderlands wasn't a world full of magic or cultivation, where you cast spells or sat on your arse for centuries and got strong. Things here were solved the old-fashioned way, on the trigger. Fortunately, whoever sent him there had sent him with a system that would make him the Apex Predator of the entire universe. Standby for Titanfall! ________________________ Disclaimer: All rights reserved to their respective owners. The Borderlands and Titanfall franchises don't belong to me.

Querubim_ · วิดีโอเกม
Not enough ratings
33 Chs

The joy of the wicked is short-lived

Maxwell was fully dressed in his pilot suit, lying on the bed in a relaxed posture, feeling rejuvenated after fooling around with Moxxi in the shower. Taking advantage of the time until Moxxi finished dressing and left the bathroom, Maxwell opened the system panel, finally noticing the notification he had forgotten for a long time.

Quest: Prove yourself. (Complete 100%)

(X) Beat Hell-Burbia

(X) Be the first in kill counts

(X) Don't get hurt

[Depositing rewards...]

50[C] x 1.5 = 75[C]

+75[C]

Credits: 138

"Wait a minute, can you put my rewards in my ECHO?" Maxwell asked the system. It would be more convenient to take his things out of the ECHO, avoiding any suspicions about objects materializing out of thin air without Digistruck.

[Analyzing free space on the SD...]

[Calculating the space occupied by rewards]

[Enough space! Depositing rewards in the ECHO storage unit.]

x1 Smart Pistol MK6 (Blueprint)

x10 Battery

x1 Wattson clothes

"Okay, I got some good stuff." Maxwell took the blueprint out of the ECHO, flipping through the blue pages, each page detailing every part of the gun. "I just hope the ammunition isn't too hard to manufacture."

"It would be a good idea to start accumulating batteries before making Titans. I'll need to give some to Tannis for reverse engineering, or I'll end up buying a blueprint."

"Hmm… I think Angel would look good in Wattson's clothes," muttered Maxwell.

"Were you saying something, dear?" Moxxi stepped out of the bathroom, her hair still damp as she casually dried it with a towel.

"Just thinking out loud." Maxwell replied with a short smile as he got up from the bed. He adjusted his pilot suit and walked out of the room, feeling he'd left Angel alone for too long.

"Don't you want to share?" Moxxi asked, tossing the towel onto the bed and hurrying to catch up with him. Naturally, she grabbed one of Maxwell's arms, nestling it against her body. The intentional contact caused her chest to press lightly against him, a provocation she knew was impossible to ignore.

"Just some projects." Maxwell let out a low sigh, the corner of his mouth curving into a resigned smile. No woman would like to know that her man was thinking about another girl right after they had sex.

He paused for a moment and, without saying anything else, handed his ECHO to her. It was easier to let Moxxi see for herself than to waste time explaining.

As Moxxi examined the Storage Deck, her expression shifted from curiosity to visible astonishment when she found something specific. "Well, well… what do we have here?" she murmured, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she pulled out the Smart Pistol blueprint.

Maxwell, noticing the change on her face, stopped and turned to face her. "Did you find something useful?"

"Useful? Darling, this is more than useful. It's a goldmine!" she said, tilting her head at him with a mischievous smile. "Imagine civilians buying into the promise of aiming like a seasoned soldier. How much do you think they'd pay for such a product?"

Maxwell shrugged. "It's not a weapon for civilian use. Even though it requires a pilot's helmet to operate, it could still fall into the hands of other corporations if sold to civilians. They could easily reverse-engineer it. It'll only be given to my trained pilots."

Maxwell already knew that the technology wouldn't be groundbreaking in a decade's time, but that was in a timeline where he didn't exist. With his plans to buy Atlas, Rhys wouldn't be acquiring the company and introducing lock-on technology.

Ouroboros would be the only corporation with such technology unless other corporations found a Vault with something similar. But he had many cards up his sleeve, so Smart Aim would only be a minimal loss.

He stepped forward, extending his hand to retrieve the ECHO.

But Moxxi quickly hid the device behind her, sticking out her tongue. "You and your pilots. You still haven't told me what makes someone a true pilot. Why all the mystery?"

"It's a surprise. You'll love it." Maxwell approached and hugged Moxxi, but his hands moved downward.

Moxxi smiled, moving the ECHO further away, but gasped in surprise when Maxwell grabbed her backside firmly, making her rise onto her toes. She noticed his obsession with her ass and realized she might need to plan on buying lubricants.

She sighed but couldn't hide a small smile. "Come on, just give me a hint."

"No."

Moxxi groaned in frustration while Maxwell seized the moment to take the ECHO back.

"Just one unit wouldn't be so bad. I'll even put a tracker on the weapon." Moxxi refused to admit defeat, pouting and crossing her arms.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. "Do you know how to handle weapons, or is this just curiosity?"

"I've always loved disassembling and reassembling weapons in my teenage years, even if it annoyed the clan members," she huffed, recalling the Hodunks. "I guess they never liked me anyway. Who names their daughter with a name often used for cows… and what the hell is a cow?"

"*Puff*" Maxwell tried to suppress a laugh, nearly choking in the process.

Moxxi stared at him, narrowing her eyes.

"What's so funny, dear? You seem to know what a cow is!"

"No, I don't know anything, honey. I just remembered a joke."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're terrible at lying?"

"..."

"You won't hit me if I say?"

"Maybe not." Moxxi responded with a smile that was anything but reassuring.

Maxwell closed his eyes, entering deep thought.

"Well, cows are large animals, they eat grass, produce lots of milk, go *muuuu*, and—"

Moxxi interrupted. "Wait! So my name is literally something that goes *muuu*? Fantastic… now I have a valid reason to destroy the Hodunks."

"Is that what stopped you from destroying them before?"

Moxxi paused, caught off guard by the question. The Hodunks had done so many terrible things to her, so much deprivation she endured, so many sleepless nights. Why had she never sought revenge?

"It's complicated." Moxxi lowered her head, recalling her children running and playing carefree, oblivious to the sinister customs and traditions of the Hodunks.

Two large arms wrapped around her, and feeling comforted, she rested her forehead against Maxwell's chest.

"Have you ever created a weapon?" Maxwell changed the subject, sensing that everything related to the clan and her children left her in a spiral of thoughts.

"Almost," she replied, lifting her head with a confident air, though her slightly red eyes betrayed her inner state. "One of my masterpieces was a Maliwan revolver called Rubi. It was a common piece before I got my hands on it. I turned that weapon into something as lethal as it was beautiful."

"Can I see it?" Rubi had been one of his favorite weapons when he played Borderlands 2, though he didn't expect the weapon to have something like life steal.

Moxxi squirmed in Maxwell's arms.

"I lost it."

"Oh!" Maxwell wanted to slap his forehead. He had forgotten that Mordecai had found the weapon. He needed to have a conversation with the skinny sniper.

*Rumble*

Moxxi's face turned as red as a tomato, trying to escape Maxwell's embrace.

"I think you should eat something before making any big moves."

"Yes," she replied, trying to hide her embarrassment.

The next few hours passed at a relaxed pace as Moxxi took on the task of preparing something to eat. Luckily for them, some of the Odyssey's rooms had their own kitchens, even if they were barren.

"This place looks more deserted than a ghost town at high noon." Moxxi remarked, opening and closing cabinets to find nothing but kitchen utensils.

"I have some supplies with me," Maxwell replied, pulling a large box from the ECHO. "Some fresh food, canned goods, and boxes of MREs."

Moxxi rolled her eyes at the last part. "Military rations? Darling, do you think I'm going to serve something that feels like rubber and tastes like cardboard?"

Maxwell shrugged, placing the box on the counter. "I'm not very picky. I ate a lot of those with a friend of mine, so I guess I got used to it."

"If you want a decent meal, stay out of the kitchen until I'm done." Moxxi rolled up her sleeves, washing her hands at the sink before unpacking everything from Maxwell's ECHO.

"Understood, chef," Maxwell replied, stepping back to let Moxxi work.

As she rummaged through the ingredients, Moxxi shrugged and started improvising. She decided to make soup, it was simple but nutritious. Using the meat from the MREs as a base, she chopped up some fresh vegetables Maxwell had brought, seasoning with basic spices she found. Grabbing a pot from the cabinets, she filled it with tap water, turned on the stove, and waited for the water to boil before tossing in the ingredients one by one.

Maxwell relaxed in a nearby chair, glancing at her between tabs on his system. The vegetables were from Outer Heaven, and Tannis had verified there were no traces of the zombie virus, making them safe to eat.

After some time, the aroma of something delicious began to fill the room.

Moxxi served two steaming bowls and sat at the table, watching Maxwell take the first spoonful after blowing on it. He paused, eyes widening for a moment, then nodded.

"You should open a restaurant," Maxwell joked, pointing at her with his spoon.

"You want me to hang up my heels and stay stuck in the kitchen?" Moxxi raised an eyebrow.

As Maxwell and Moxxi were finishing their meal, Angel's angelic voice echoed through the ship's speakers.

"We've arrived at the destination. Odyssey is hovering a few meters above Sanctuary. Some idiots are shooting at us; the shields are already up, and the artillery is ready as a countermeasure."

Moxxi looked up, curious, before turning to Maxwell. "Is that the AI of the Odyssey? It sounds almost human."

Maxwell shook his head, setting his spoon aside and tilting the bowl to drink the broth. "No, that's not the ship's AI. It's Angel. She's a Siren I met some time ago, and she's part of the crew now."

Moxxi blinked, surprised. "A Siren? And she works with you?"

"Not exactly works for me," Maxwell replied, his voice taking a more serious tone. "She's been through a lot. I intend to help her gain freedom and live a normal life."

"And kiss me when he finds me," Angel said, her voice soft and almost angelic.

"..."

Maxwell's face turned stiffly toward Moxxi, sweat forming on his forehead.

Moxxi propped her chin on her hand, a teasing smile on her face. "Ho-ho?"

"So, darling," she began, her voice sickly sweet and dangerous, "are you handing out kisses while saying you're helping Sirens gain freedom?"

Maxwell opened his mouth to respond, just to close it. He scratched the back of his neck, inwardly swearing to spank Angel's butt when he found her.

"It's not like that..."

"Not like that?" Moxxi repeated, raising an eyebrow and tapping her fingers lightly on the table.

Maxwell's shoulders slumped. This was the downside of having a harem. It was time to deploy some Talk-no-Jutsu, though he didn't have time to say a single word before feeling a familiar weight.

Sitting on Maxwell's lap and leaning close to his ear, Moxxi whispered in a low voice.

"What are your intentions with the two of us?" Moxxi purred, her nails lightly grazing the skin of his neck.

Maxwell looked deeply into Moxxi's eyes, speaking with conviction.

"Make you two the happiest women in six galaxies, have beautiful children, and a threesome every night."

"So you've chosen death!" Moxxi placed her hands on Maxwell's waist and...

started tickling him, catching the poor apex predator off guard.

"AHHAHAHA NO! MERCY! AHAHHAHA" Maxwell squirmed in the chair, trying to escape Moxxi's grasp.

"HAHA PLEASE STOP HAHAHA I GIVE UP!" Maxwell fell to the floor with Moxxi, even in such torture taking care not to hurt her.

Angel, utterly baffled while still monitoring the conversation, intervened before Maxwell could pass out.

"Maxwell is being sincere, Moxxi. I'm sure his intentions are true," Angel said urgently, seeing Maxwell losing his breath. "It's my fault for trying to mess up your relationship. Don't be mad at him!"

"Don't try to save this scoundrel, or you'll be next, sweetheart." Moxxi got up, allowing Maxwell to finally breathe. "I'm not mad. He's too honest and silly for me to stay mad."

"That's not what you said when I smash you from behind!" Maxwell would go down firing, he wouldn't be defeated so easily.

Moxxi's face turned toward Maxwell, lying on the floor. The man raised his hands in surrender.

"How old is she?" Moxxi sighed, extending a hand to help Maxwell up.

"I don't know, maybe under 20."

"I'll be 17 at the end of this year."

"..."

"You're going to jail."

"But I am the police!"

"Do you like roleplay and have handcuffs?"

"No, but I'm not against trying something new."

*Sexual noises*

Angel was horrified to see the couple whispering obscenities, in several places she was mentioned too. She was about to escape one layer of hell to enter another.

_____________

An imposing ship landed smoothly on the orbital platform of Promethea, its metallic sheen reflecting the vibrant lights of the star-city below, revealing the ship's logo:

Atlas Corporation

The hum of the engines dissipated as a man descended the ramp, the firm sound of his boots echoing. He appeared to be in his fifties, with short graying hair and an eyepatch over his left eye, marked with the symbol of a red lance.

With a cigar between his teeth, he exhaled a dense cloud of smoke before tossing it to the ground and crushing it under his boot.

"Commander Knoxx, it's good to see you in good health." A young Atlas officer, standing stiffly at attention, greeted him before turning to a soldier next to Knoxx.

"What's the status of the Hyperion station? Any suspicious activity in the last few days?"

The soldier saluted. "Nothing, sir. The Hyperion station continues to operate within normal parameters, with no signs of unusual activity. It seems to be entering its final stages."

The officer fell silent for a moment, analyzing the report while adjusting his reading glasses.

"And what about Elpis? How did the incursion go?"

"We found no excavation activity."

The officer scoffed, his expression hardening. "No excavation or resource extraction activity from Dahl? Did our patrols fail their assignments?"

"That seems to be the case, sir. We found no signs of clandestine operations or excavation. Just debris and parts of the destroyed fleet, nothing has changed since The Crackening event. No additional movement."

"What are the Lance Assassins doing here?" Knoxx interrupted, spotting a group of women in black-and-red uniforms, each with red blades strapped to their waists. He furrowed his brow, watching the Lance Assassins stand motionless in front of his ship.

Both men turned to Knoxx. No one dared to reprimand him for the interruption.

"Orders from the higher-ups, sir." The officer's back began to sweat, quietly cursing his misfortune at being the one to deliver the news.

"Orders from whom?"

"Admiral Mikey, sir."

"..."

"What are the orders?"

"You and your division are being sent to Pandora due to Steele's recent inaction."

"And they decided to send the Lance Assassins along?" Knoxx ran a hand over his face. He didn't care which planet he was deployed to, he'd been through worse. But sending specialized soldiers trained for capture, espionage, and assassination to an arid desert was peak idiocy.

"They concluded that anyone having dealt with Steele had to be treated with extreme caution, elite forces would be the best choice."

"Then send a SITREP to Pandora. Don't they see that Atlas has more urgent matters to handle than babysitting a Siren?" Knoxx began to feel irritated, pulling another cigar from his pocket and lighting it. "Weren't those old farts kissing Steele's ass about her Siren powers and how much potential she had?"

The officer swallowed hard but maintained his composure. "We already sent one after Steele stopped sending reports for forty-eight hours, but the squad we deployed also stopped responding. It's been almost a month since we've had any updates on Pandora."

Knoxx tried to take another drag, but realized that it had started to rain. Throwing his cigar aside, he began to walk away, looking for answers and leaving the agent to talk to himself.

"I hate nepotism."