Chapter 966 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 966: Distorted! "What the heck? It's up to me again?!" Sitting in the Thunderjet, Luoyu looked bewildered, glancing at the skyscraper wrapped in crimson material with a chill running down his spine. That stuff should be a humus, right? Why on earth would the Legion deploy something as overpowering as mutating slime molds on the battlefield! Clearly, the understanding of the Unity Accord is being used as toilet paper by them. Or perhaps it’s like how the Southern Legion interprets that ancient pact—it was something Julius signed, and they weren't present then. "Xiao Yu... can your powers affect that thing?" "Eee-woo!" (I can try) "Alright..." Luoyu took a deep breath. As he gripped the throttle and pressed his left foot down to steer the jet around, he aligned the autocannon with the skyscraper being devoured by the indescribable mass, then pressed the fire button hard with his thumb. "Blam—!" With a series of short roars, thousands of rounds from the 20mm autocannon rained down in an instant! Under the sudden burst of firepower, the scarlet vines clinging to the skyscraper's rooftop were torn apart, momentarily halting their upward climb. Quickly realizing the source of the attack, the mass of crimson tendrils shot towards the sky, aiming for the Thunderjet like missiles! Catching the creature’s attention, Luoyu smirked with a hint of success. Gripping the ejection handle beneath his seat with his right hand, he yanked it hard. With several explosive blasts, he and his seat were catapulted outward from the shattered cockpit. Simultaneously, his jet continued hurtling toward the mother nest attempting to swallow the skyscraper whole! The mother nest was not about to let a hunk of metal crash into its core. Predictably, tendrils enveloped the Thunderjet like a spider's web. However, what the mother nest didn't know was that Xiao Yu's sub-bodies had filled the jet's cockpit long ago! These sub-bodies acted like his avatars, possessing nearly all of his piloting proficiency and even the ability to create a mimicry of “him” in the cockpit. Through this unique power, even when ejected, he was still capable of remotely controlling the plane via a communication channel. Regardless, now that he had made contact with the mother nest, there was no longer a need to continue with the subterfuge. That Thunderjet filled with sub-bodies—their Trojan Horse! "Counting on you, Xiao Yu!" Hanging beneath his parachute, Luoyu watched the ensnared plane intently, mentally cheering for Xiao Yu. But just then, a sudden "Eee-woo!" came through the communication channel. (It’s strange—seems it’s not a mother nest!) Not a mother nest? Stunned, Luoyu stared in disbelief at the seething mass of humus in the distance. Then... what on earth is it? In his moment of confusion, his plane was crushed like a soda can by the encircling tendrils. An eruption of flames sparked by exploding batteries tore through the tendrils, but the flicker of fire was rapidly quelled by the evening breeze. Dangling in midair, Luoyu was utterly at a loss, especially as the tendrils turned in his direction, charging toward him. This thing isn’t a mother nest?! "Crap—!" ... Not far from the "Tower of the World," in a mansion, the chief of staff of the Southern Legion, Augustus, and his wife used leftover canned food to prepare what was to be the last supper for their children. Though it was merely sardines, minced meat, and oysters with butter, at least the cans bore the label of special provisions. Dripping cyanide into the children's vegetable juice and their own glasses of wine, he shakily tied a napkin around his neck for a final semblance of dignity. After completing these preparations, he gazed at his curious, bemused children, steeling himself to suppress his overwhelming sorrow, and began speaking with an authoritative, resonant voice, as though addressing a large assembly. "Let us toast to the esteemed Marshal Julius, to the invincible Legion, to the honor of the Weylandtians..." Everything would end tonight. With that, he clinked glasses with his wife gently. The children mimicked the gesture, giggling as they raised their drinks and cheerfully shouted “Cheers,” before sipping the delicious vegetable juice. The process was devoid of pain. To these young lives, perhaps this was the greatest mercy of all—they would not have to carry the burden of sin through a long life... or perhaps this cruel fate wasn’t real at all but merely an ambition imposed by their parents. Watching the children as they lay slumped over the table asleep, a shadow of pain crossed his wife's face, but she eventually managed to recompose herself, before downing the wine, collapsing onto the table, never to rise again. Finally liberated. She had no desire to remain in this world for even another moment. Seeing his family succumb before his eyes, Augustus could no longer hold back his emotions. His expression tormented, the hand holding the wine glass trembled uncontrollably. “It’s my fault for dragging you into this…” If only he had stopped Tyre... If he had done something then, perhaps they’d now be vacationing on the beaches of Bartoa Province. But regrets now were futile. The triumph at Westwind Harbor had gone to too many people’s heads; both young and old officers alike fervently believed the Corporation was on its last legs, incapable of upholding that ancient pact anymore, especially given how lackluster the opposition from the Bulrenci was. Augustus lifted the wine glass to his lips, ready to drink away all his sorrows. Unexpectedly, an ear-splitting roar and a low bellow echoed from outside. Startled, he went to the window and pulled back the curtain, seeing that Avante City's landmark—a towering alloy building—was engulfed in strange, meaty-red material. It moved as if alive, twisting under the night lights, with a hideous, tormented howl reaching towards the heavens. "Wooh—!" A resonating roar coursed through the air, every single cell within vibrating, akin to rolling ocean waves. His eyes widening, Augustus was filled with disbelief and confusion. He had only returned from that building moments ago... Assumedly, the venerable Legion Commander Tyre should still be there, on the 68th floor. "Tyre... Your Excellency?" He muttered in shock, watching as a fleet of jets zoomed through the air. The Federation seemed to have noticed something off about the building. VTOL aircraft, propelled by plumes of plasma, deftly breached the anti-air defenses, making a rapid descent towards the "Tower of the World." "...What in the world is that?" That hideous monster... Though he knew that doomsday weapons were stored in the building, he never knew Tyre possessed such an abominable trump card. It was beyond anything human—a pustule pushed up from the earth itself. Staggering back a couple of steps, Augustus ultimately closed the curtain with a hopeless sigh. By Julius... What had they done? Not just Tyre, but himself, and all those centurion supporters... Did they truly intend to transform the Weylandtians from humans into roaches? He emptied his wine glass, collapsing in a heap beside the dining table. Gazing upon his deceased loved ones, he finally awakened from his delusion in his life’s last moments, shaken free from that dreadful nightmare. Using his dwindling moments, he prayed for forgiveness. “Sob... Forgive your children, Marshal Julius... It was we who failed you.” “It was us... the Southern Legion... unworthy of the Weylandtians…” ... "Wooh—!" A low, resonant bellow shattered the clouds, akin to the moan of a mighty sea leviathan. Upon hearing the thunderous sound, the Southern Legion soldiers paused in their combat on the frontlines, turning to gaze upon the rolling mass of flesh behind them. Ugliness was manifested to its fullest extent at that moment, coupled with unspeakable distortion and chaos. Expressions of bewilderment washed over countless faces. They couldn’t fathom that behind them, in their homeland, on their place of departure… A beast so twisted could emerge. “Demon…” Panic imprinted on their wavering pupils, veteran soldiers unknowingly staggered back a step; their resolve to fight until the end swaying for the first time. Why had he fought until now? Or perhaps... Was that what they had become? Awakening with a start, his back drenched in cold sweat, an expression of agony crossed his face. Nearby, in another trench, the newly recruited soldiers—who had undergone less than two weeks of military training—wore similar expressions of shock. "What the hell... is that thing?!" "Is it the Federation’s bioweapon?!" The fleshy, crimson tendrils continued to reach skywards like vines climbing into the heavens. A grayish-yellow fog spread outward, resembling the sudden bloom of a treetop. But the most terrifying aspect wasn’t just this extension; its roots were spreading outwards as well. These entangled tendrils cascaded over the streets like a horizontal waterfall, indiscriminately claiming every life in its path, be it human, rat, or cockroach. Perish— Inferior species. The rolling clouds of spores exuded a silent lamentation, infusing rage into the quiet slaughter. The soldiers, filled with dread, retreated, or fired futilely with their rifles, desperately attempting to halt the tide of tendrils crashing forward like waves. Was this—a hub of mutating slime molds?! But why would it appear here!? Such a horrifying presence was beyond the comprehension or understanding of the soldiers present. Though there were scattered hubs of mutating slime molds across the Batoya province and the wastelands controlled by the Southern Legion, they mainly lingered in pre-war ruins and uninhabited wilderness. In mere seconds of distraction, a crimson tendril whipped towards a soldier, hoisting him over ten meters into the air with a piercing scream before cleaving him in two, scattering his remains in a bloody rain. The soldiers crouching behind cover were paralyzed with fear, clueless on how to combat something so terrifying. Just as the wave threatened to sweep over them, a Chimera armored vehicle suddenly barreled in from the side. Soldiers quickly withdrew into cover, listening as the booming 37mm cannons erupted just overhead. However, the lethal armor-piercing incendiaries didn’t hit their trenches. A nervous recruit shakily prepared an RPG, but a superior officer stopped him. Down the street, a barrage of tracer rounds fired into the advancing tendrils, momentarily repelling the surging wave and causing the tendrils to hesitate. At this critical moment, a deafening roar blasted from a loudspeaker over the heads of the Southern Legion soldiers. "What are you waiting for? Is it going to take your enemy to teach you how to shoot? That thing's slaughtering your compatriots!" The words shook them from their stupor, even the centurion with his hand on the rocket launcher. Though they didn’t understand what the crimson tendrils or the fleshy mass engulfing the Tower of the World were, one thing was crystal clear— That creature fed on the blood and flesh of the Weylandtians! "Attention all units! Cease-fire temporarily! Aim your weapons at that monster!" In the ruins, the scattered centurions regained their morale, the dispersed units reforming into ranks. "Roar, roar, roar!!" A similar scene unfolded on various streets around Avante City. Despite the ongoing conflict between the Southern Legion and the Federation, due to the presence of the ineffable demon, some units had shifted their guns, agreeing to confront a common enemy— Meanwhile, in the distant Great Rift Valley, the chair, seated in the meeting room, let out a forlorn sigh. "History repeats once again..." In essence, two centuries ago, both sides blinded by rage simultaneously pressed doomsday buttons. The only solace now was that, at least this time, it wasn’t a downward spiral. Probably... ... On the front lines of Avante City. Baldwin, the centurion in command, stared wide-eyed in bewilderment at the Tower of the World. What, exactly, was that...thing? The number of inconceivable occurrences mounted; perhaps he should have realized from the onset, at the start of the "Final Agent" project, that Tyre was a complete madman. His ambition might lead everyone to ruin! Continual reports flooded from the rear on the phone, indicating severe damage to the logistics unit stationed near Avante City! At this, his adjutant hurried over, unable to spare even a nod of greeting, practically drenched in sweat as he reported. "Sir, the Federation's air forces are advancing towards our rear!" A flicker of struggle crossed Baldwin's eyes, but after a couple of seconds, he resolved his decision. "Let them through!" His adjutant looked at him in surprise. "But—" Baldwin’s eyes locked onto his, using a tone that brooked no refusal. "Do as I say!" With a look that left no room for doubt, the adjutant held his breath, saluted clenching his teeth, then turned and left to execute the order. Watching his adjutant depart, Baldwin shifted his gaze to the battle map, all emotions eventually reduced to a long sigh. The battle was lost... Perhaps he should have realized it sooner, but it was too late for such thoughts now. At the very least, he had to stop that ever-expanding monstrosity. Otherwise, not only would the glory of Marshal Julius and a century of accumulation by the Southern Legion be destroyed by its rampage, but every Weylandtian in the city would also accompany it to the grave. Simultaneously with issuing orders, Baldwin called the captain of a nearby ironclad airship, reporting the ground situation in detail. "The unidentified organic life form spreading from the World Tower is attacking our compatriots indiscriminately! Including our soldiers, our civilians! We must cease fire immediately while we still can!" Some directly hung up on him, and others cursed him as a traitor, but there were those who listened, expressing disbelief mixed with the suspicion that it might be a plot by the Federation. However, for the Federation on the brink of victory, deploying sensitive bioweapons was a hazardous and unrewarding act. With Tyre's history of extreme measures, speculation about the underlying cause seemed unnecessary. Undoubtedly— It was yet another unconventional "trump card." And true to form, Tyre had managed to bungle it, steering everything towards chaos. Some captains tried reaching their superiors, only to find their own command in disarray. Not just Legion Commander Tyre had vanished, but even their chief of staff, Augustus, was nowhere to be found. The Southern Legion’s command structure had devolved into chaos, making some finally realize the severity of the situation. Out of eight ironclad airships, three raised white flags, quickly followed by two more, and, under Baldwin's orders, two even turned their guns, aiming the 100mm cannons at the raging subsisting "mother nest." This action completely provoked the monster, driving it into a frenzy, drawing the hovering airships into its range, compelling them to pull up anchors and retreat from the World Tower. The Federation's anti-aircraft forces refrained from firing on the vessels, even as railguns aboard the trains outside had locked onto them. Right now, the primary objective was to neutralize that rampant unknown life form! Meanwhile, aboard a hovering Viper transport in the heart of Avante City, Quit Smoking, eyes shut, suddenly opened them. Turning to Old Bai, sitting nearby, he hastily announced. "Luoyu just posted on the forum... he said that thing isn't a mother nest!" Old Bai blinked in surprise. "Not a mother nest?! Then what the hell is it?" Quit Smoking shook his head, speaking quickly. "No clue... he just insisted it wasn’t a mother nest, but didn't rule out mutating slime molds, and even Xiao Yu is uncertain about what it actually is. It bears a resemblance to some sentient sub-entity... damn, he described it all messily! He believes the only way is to destroy the brain hidden within that abomination!" Old Bai eyed him seriously. "So there is a way to consume it, huh?" Quit Smoking gulped, nodding quickly. "There's about a fifty-fifty chance... or at least that's according to Xiao Yu." "One thing’s for sure, none of us have encountered such a thing before." Murder Blade, a grim expression on his face, cursed under his breath. "Damn... We might need the data from the World Tower to figure out what this creature truly is." Obtaining the data from the World Tower... Quit Smoking glanced outside the cabin at the skyscraper shrouded in flesh-colored humus, feeling a chill run over his scalp. "How the hell are we supposed to get inside this thing?" "You guys figure out a plan yet? This thing's got way too many arms! I'm barely holding them off!" squatted by the cabin edge, "Shen Warrior" gripped the 40mm grenade launcher tightly, firing at the tendrils reaching for the transport aircraft. The explosive rounds, laden with metallic hydrogen, shattered one thick tendril after another, but the overwhelming numbers continued surging forward! The pilot, leveraging his exceptional flying skills, weaved and dodged expertly, but he knew this precarious game couldn't continue indefinitely. Old Bai's mind was racing. At that moment, Fang Chang's voice suddenly echoed through the communication channel. "The 200th Division of the Southern Legion has surrendered, Old Bai, can you hear me?" Old Bai grinned. "I can hear you, so they've surrendered? Are you saying our ground forces can advance?" Fang Chang’s voice remained serious. "That's right, but you've seen the situation at the frontlines. Pushing ground troops through is nearly impossible, and even if we manage, the casualties would be too high—" Old Bai cut him off. "Cut to the chase, hurry up and tell me what we're gonna do!" Hearing Old Bai's urgent tone, Fang Chang responded without hesitation. "Like in Springwater City—jump in and fight!" Old Bai was momentarily stunned. "Jump... in?" Fang Chang didn’t explain further. Instead, he spoke with unwavering determination. "According to the intel provided by Centurion Baldwin, Tyre should... no, he is on the 68th floor." No sooner had Fang Chang finished than a white missile trail traced across the sky above Avante City, striking the World Tower square in the middle! It was an anti-ship cruise missile fired from the Southern Sea Alliance's Harpoon cruiser! The glowing white light seared through the crimson humus and the alloy walls beneath, with a deafening explosion sending shockwaves billowing into the clouds! The writhing "demon" let out a pained wail, the gaping wound promptly regenerating at a visibly rapid pace. Fang Chang's voice resounded through the comms simultaneously. "Now’s the time! Go!" Without a second thought, Old Bai seized the pilot's seat, shouting urgently. "Get us closer to the blast center! Move it!" The pilot, though anxious, gritted his teeth and complied, deftly avoiding the lunging tendrils and advancing under the cover of the explosion's smoke toward the missile's landing site. The deep crimson tendrils had already started to conceal the wound, the creature consciously using metal debris from the building to seal the breach. But squatting at the cabin’s edge, Shen Warrior wasn’t about to let the creature succeed. With a triumphant howl, he peppered high explosive rounds into the tendrils, shredding them to pieces! The ghastly wound was exposed, along with portions of the World Tower's interior structure, not yet entirely consumed! "Wooh—!" The anguished cries reverberated again, causing the cockpit glass to tremble. "We can't stay here long!" the pilot shouted through clenched teeth, struggling to maintain the vehicle's hover. "This is as close as I can get—" Before he finished speaking, wearing the "Dragoon" powered armor, Old Bai sprinted decisively, leaping toward the exposed breach. Rogue tendrils attempted to intercept him, but were obliterated into minced flesh by a volley of high-explosive grenades before reaching the edges of his power suit. "Old Bai! I’ve got your back!" Shen Warrior, perched at the cabin's edge, yelled excitedly. Simultaneously, Old Bai's feet landed on the 68th floor of the World Tower. Crimson humus squelched under his armored boots as he gripped a blazing thermoelectric axe in one hand. His other hand held a grenade gun, which, with a quick "click," chambered another round. A tendril lanced from the room's corner towards him, but fell short by ten meters, obliterated by a concussive blast! The grenade gun wasn’t just for explosive projectiles; Boulder Arsenal had engineered a series of no-safe-distance anti-personnel rounds specifically for this equipment. These unique rounds were just as reliable, even in cramped combat zones! "Thanks..." he muttered, "Leave the rest to me. You should retreat." The wound he’d entered through was closing, the narrowing passageway unable to accommodate a second entrant— Unless another cruise missile were to come crashing in. But that wasn’t necessary now. Old Bai could sense a formidable presence nearby, on the same floor, not far from him. Yet, he felt no fear. As the most formidable player in the game, he had the confidence to outmatch any opponent in a 1v1 showdown. Even against an unfamiliar adversary— It was not he who should fear, but it! "Come out, Tyre! It can only be you... Let's see how much mastery you really have over this power of yours." After severing three attacking tendrils, Old Bai waved the thermoelectric axe in his grip, striding boldly towards the battered lab door. Deep within the 68th-floor laboratory, Tyre, eyes shut, flinched slightly. His grotesque visage contorted, boiling with rage like a heated mire. Admittedly, he hadn’t fully harnessed this power yet—evident by his inability to simultaneously manage the traitors and Federation soldiers outside, while facing this pesky little fly buzzing under his nose. But if this fly thought for one second that it could challenge his god-like might without consequence, it would be a laughable assumption. To him, it would be as simple as squashing a bug! "Who gave you permission to stand there—" Before he could finish, an alloy door, sliced in half, slammed towards him like a cannonball. Taken by surprise, Tyre sidestepped hastily, but when he raised his head again, he saw the steely man with the short axe standing before him, the unsharpened axe blade glowing with a fierce light. "No one asked for your permission." "I came on my own!"