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(Technically, this is the only part that involves the inkling in the image. Congratulations/Thanks for getting this far, and I hope you’re making as big a mess in your underwear as a Turf War!)

An inkling with blue hair was rounding the corner with a bucket and a mop, a label on the bucket cautioning about hazardous materials, even though the inkling himself wasn’t wearing… much of anything. He was only in his underwear and a bright yellow shirt, contrast to his blue hair. Luckily, he explained himself in an exasperated monologue.

“Stupid splatfest gear… and they expect me to wear those itchy… suits or whatever, with all these paintball welts on me?! Not on Christmas, they don’t. In fact, I think I’m gonna shove my underwear in Callie’s stocking. Show her how clean it is.” He taunted, shaking his butt in full view of the agent. Almost immediately, a plan hatched in his mind, and he mixed together some of the cleaning solution with his own ink in a slippery concoction, making a massive mess on the floor right in the path of the unaware squid kid still taunting the loser of the final splatfest.

Inklings normally step in ink puddles, so the boy paid the spill no mind and proceeded to step on it, his leg swinging up comically high as he tumbled through the air with the grace of a falling seal, and a surprised yell to match. He crashed into the wall upside down, legs over his head and butt raised in the air, a perfect opportunity for Agent 0 to strike. [See relevant image.]

Quickly, he straddled the dazed inkling, who made a confused groan at the shadow looming over him for a second; then whose eyes widened as the nozzle of a fully pressurized splat charger gently caresses his lips. He raises up his hands to grip onto the socks of his murderer as the little circular charge meter on the weapon fills for the first time.

With a loud POP! The charger fires, the boy’s upside-down legs twitch and his eyes roll back in his head. He jumps slightly, the hands softly grasping at the agent’s black socks gripping ever tighter, then sliding down limply to his sides. The weapon charges once more with a soft whine; the only sound otherwise the soft breathing of Agent 0 and the silence of the folded lump of boymeat with a hole in his head- POP!

A second shot, to make sure. The body jumps again, and pressurized orange ink drools out of the corpse’s open mouth, beginning to pool onto the floor underneath him. There’s a soft pattering, the upturned inkling’s formerly pristine white underwear darkening in the front. Agent 0, behind his visor, took interest and shuffled forwards as the first opaque droplets soaked through the underwear, the shift of his gun causing the body to twitch. POP!

Finally, the now-dead inkling’s legs seemed to slump even further downwards, and all movement from him stopped. Agent 0 looked around each corner, checking for any activity in the halls, holding his own breath until one could hear a pin drop. Stepping back from his squidboy catch, he moved back to the closet where his primary target lay and dragged the whimpering guard out of the closet. He kinda just stared at the dead boy, waiting for him to respawn in confused horror that only grew as time passed.

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Agent 0 finally reached the weapons development sector and began taking pictures of all the schematics, sending a flood of texts to Octavio with the headline “Phase Two” and getting a series of elated emoticons in response. It took barely 5 minutes for a reply picture of the first Octarian weapon, the Octavio Splattershot, to be prototyped and in the hands of the wicked musician. 8 arms work fast when you’re inspired by ancient artifacts.

Agent 0 sighed and turned to his captive, standing him up against the wall while he fiddled with the splat charger, the nozzle still covered in ink from the cute dead janitor still slumped over with his own cock dangling in front of his face. Once the weapon was readied, a little rainbow light shone from the stock of the modified rifle, and he turned to point the weapon at Willie as it changed shape into the pressurized beam shooter known as the Sting Ray.

“All right, guess you’re Free, Willie. Stay Fresh.”

The ray of pressurized ink fired from the gun cleaves open the comparatively soft skin on the surprised inkling's neck, tearing the vertebrae as it makes an impression on the chrome wall behind him before he even had a chance to react to it. His tongue protrudes outwards in an everlasting scream drowned out by the sound of the ink and his eyes roll up into his head. It's barely visible, since his head droops forwards and falls cleanly off his shoulders shortly afterwards, his body still standing and slightly twitching, his hands closed into tight fists as if there was any way to brace for the inevitability and speed of his death.

As his body loses its connection to the brain controlling it, he convulses wildly, rapidly changing states between naked boy and blue squid. He flops about on the ground for a few seconds before his body doesn't have the energy to change states, expelling the last of his reserves to try and push himself up using the inky blood squirting from the holes in his esophagus. All that happened was him raising his ass in a lewd display for a few seconds, then slowly slumping down to the ground as his knees became unable to support the weight.

The entire episode lasted for so long that a normal inkling would have respawned and been splatted twice over. Agent 0 was barely able to keep his arousal in check, holding his renting arousal and adjusting his pants several times over. He never really did know why he found weapons testing so sexually stimulating, but watching the display became too much for his erection, to the point he groaned in physical pain from the tightness in his loins. He unzipped his own ink armor shorts and picked the severed head up, heavily breathing as he stared into those unblinking eyes. Absentmindedly, he continued to walk behind the corpse, kicking the dead inkling's legs open once the convulsions simmered down.

Agent 0 moved over to examine the body. doing something he knew would elicit a reaction from the boy were he still alive, and forcefully pressed the nose of the decapitated squid into its own still-hard shaft. The last movements came from the tiny, twitching cock between his spread thighs, pointed back behind him from his laying on his stomach in that inviting position. As if in reaction to the rough treatment or just a last response, the dead inkling's cock spurts a last orgasm out, a few dollops of creamy white jism to paint his pale tongue and chin coupled with some hard flexes of his exposed asshole.

Agent 0 pushes a finger inside the twitching hole, feeling the warmth ebbing from the body, then stands back up and takes some pictures with his phone for evidence. He even poses the body a little, moving the head aside and stomping on the softening cock until it and the little boy-balls attached turned almost as blue as the inkling's hair-tentacles. WIth each sadistic action, his own arousal grew to the point that he ended up idly fingering his prey, then slapping his erection against the boy’s soft ass cheek, then grinding against him, and finally just hotdogging and prodding him. There wasn’t any resistance from the lithe twink’s pucker, the warm hole inviting its guest’s cock inside with only a soft squishing sound as protest.

The Octarian agent defiled and raped the body to sate his lust, filling the room with the sounds of soft squid hips slapping together, jiggling butt cheeks, and gruff moaning that softened as the voice changer was deemed no longer necessary. He’d been edging himself ever since he entered the building, staring at cute boy butts and too focused on the mission to fuck a single one. His orgasm came quickly, leaving him a panting mess to just silently stare at his cum joining the pool of fluids and slightly lightening the hue of it.

Of course, this was only round one. He made sure to push his needy shaft in every hole he could; He double-penetrated the head, sliding his shaft against the limp cock of the corpse and making the decapitated head’s mouth gape wide open as seed dripped down the tongue in a symmetrical art piece. He pressed his gun up to the stuffed butt and, with another heavily muffled pop!, filled him with ink until his belly slightly bloated… only to use the ink as lube and cream inside the pregnant-looking inkling corpse again. He dragged in the body of the janitor for a threesome with two corpses just so he could have a blowjob from a squid with its head still attached. He even used the neck-hole to pump Willie’s stomach directly, leaving semen dripping from every hole and taking pictures of everything he was doing as evidence. He then took another set of pictures for himself, of the dripping anal ring coated in warm ink and semen that the body couldn't hold in. It just made him look like a disgraced slut, even in death.

With all the mandatory evidence collecting done, Agent 0 picks up his new special squid-killer and aims one last shot between the defiled corpse's thighs, the beam of ink severing a little squid-cock trophy for Agent 0's admiration later. The severed, limp inkling dick was put on display in a glass case in his home, kept cool so it wouldn't melt. It would be the first of many.