Chapter 609: Get Up! (2/4)

Chapter 609: Get Up! (2/4)

“……We can’t just wait to die, can we!”

He wasn’t afraid of death, anyway.

It was only a matter of three days.

But—

He could revive, but the pilot flying the plane couldn’t. Though he didn’t know the guy’s name, he must have a family back in Boulder City.

And there was that D-class researcher too.

After all the effort to get into the academy with his family’s hopes riding on him, dying here for no reason would be too great a loss.

His mind was eerily calm; everything around him, including himself, formed a clear picture in his thoughts.

Below the deck was the gun bay.

The 20mm and 37mm barrels were too thin, but the 155mm should be enough.

That long, thick barrel had already appeared before his eyes. Night Ten loosened the lock on his waist to the maximum, gritted his teeth, and leaped out.

If this actually worked—

Newton would have to crawl out of his coffin.

He could only trust the quality of the exoskeleton!

“Aaaah!”

As he plunged downward, he straddled the base of the barrel, clamping his arms and legs around it in a full embrace, and at the same time locked the joints and motors of the “Type Five” exoskeleton.

Almost the instant he finished, a tremendous tearing force yanked at his waist, nearly crushing all the air from his lungs.

Even though the exoskeleton withstood over ninety percent of the pull, nearly a ton of weight, carrying the kinetic energy of a dozen meters’ fall, slammed into his waist.

A grating screech of steel pierced his eardrums. The entire barrel bent downward, but mercifully, it didn’t snap.

Pinned by the full weight of the transport plane onto the bent barrel, Night Ten felt like an ant crushed underfoot, his eyes bulging as if they might pop out of their sockets.

But to his surprise, the process wasn’t painful.

At first, he thought the helmet had cut off excessive pain signals, but soon he realized he could no longer feel his lower body at all.

Damn!

His spine was definitely broken.

But—

Night Ten cursed inwardly, struggling to shift his gaze downward. When he saw the massive iron lump dangling there, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

That cable was sturdy enough; he’d heard it could hold a Type 1 tank, let alone a Viper, a light transport weighing less than ten tons.

As for his exoskeleton, it seemed pre-war material technology wasn’t just hype.

To grab a plane falling from a kilometer up all by himself—he’d done something this awesome in his life, and that was enough.

As for the next life…

He’d think about it in three days.

Just as he closed his eyes and logged off, the gunners in the gun bay were watching the fallen soldier through the porthole, tears in their eyes.

Though they couldn’t see his eyes, they could feel the burning sincerity and resolve.

They had no doubt—

He was a true warrior!

The pilot from Boulder City, sitting in the cockpit, was the same, staring blankly at the figure suspended in the air outside the right window.

Even though his body was nearly cut in two by the rope, his tightly clenched limbs showed not a hint of slack.

What loyalty!

What bravery!

His lips twitched slightly, and a hot tear welled up unbidden at the corner of his eye. He gritted his teeth and wiped it away with his arm.

Farewell, brother!

Your will and ideals—

I will carry them forward for you!

In the cabin behind him, Jiang Xuezhou, slumped in her seat, had already dissolved into tears, gazing tearfully at the figure outside.

“No—don’t!”

Clutching the rifle in her arms, she hated her own uselessness. Without those high-tech gadgets, she was good for nothing, could do nothing but hold others back.

If only she were stronger…

If it weren’t for her fear of heights keeping her glued to her seat, maybe things would have turned out differently…

Tears as big as beans fell one after another onto the cabin floor. Her heart was filled with regret, and from her trembling lips came a heart-wrenching sob.

At the same time, Gahn, standing beside the 400mm main cannon, was staring in the direction of the falling transport.

A smug, cruel grin spread across his face as he lightly flicked his slightly bent index finger to the side.

That thick, long finger was like a chef’s ladle. A dozen bat-winged creatures, flapping their wings, immediately leaped off the transport as it plunged into the clouds, smoothly landing on the steel deck and charging without pause toward the nearest Union soldiers.

Though a bit flustered at first, as time passed, he had gradually mastered the power of this biomass armor.

With just a flick of his finger, or even a glance, he could send those snarling bat-winged creatures surging forward to tear his enemies apart.

It came as easily as breathing to him.

After being tormented by Union planes and artillery for so long, and after losing several warriors he had personally named, this time he could finally hold his head high and reclaim the face he had lost.

And he had picked it up himself!

But then, Gahn quickly remembered that these ugly, sharp-faced things before him were once the children of his tribe. His cruel smile twisted again with hatred and pain.

“Aaaah! Gomo! It’s you, isn’t it! You must have done this! I should have realized back on the ground… Only you, only you whom I trusted most, could have pulled this off without anyone knowing!”

All mutants had done the breeding work, but midwifery was the job of the tribe’s priest.

As the tribe’s high priest, only that bastard could have secretly made the Qi tribe lose ten thousand newborns.

Maybe even more than ten thousand!

Otherwise, why, after all their efforts to breed, day and night rutting those two-legged livestock in the pens, did the tribe still have so few people?!

That despicable man—

He talked about standing with the mutants, but his ass was still firmly planted on the side of the old humans. He never truly saw the Qi tribe’s people as his own!

He should have realized long ago that those old farts were all the same—pretending to follow the founder’s teachings, but full of rotten schemes!

When he got back, he’d crush that old man’s head! Find someone else to renegotiate with those two-legged charlatans!

But before that—

He had to make sure these poor children died for something.

"Go! Tear them apart! Tear apart everyone you see!!!"

He roared in fury, clenching his outstretched claws.

Under the siege of countless bat-winged men, another fireball spun down from the night sky, crashing heavily onto one side of the deck.

It was a W-2 attack plane with a broken wing.

Having exhausted its ammunition, it chose not to land on the ground, but instead drew the bat-winged men into a tangle, fired at them with a pistol, and then rammed into the deck with them.

Flames seethed across the steel deck; soldiers around dodged aside, and seeing their terrified postures, Gahn’s face twisted into a manic grin.

"Hahaha! Die! All of you, die—"

In the midst of his frenzy, the players also noticed this unusual monster.

Other aberrations had fleshy wings connecting arms and hips, but this one had wings growing from its back.

"Holy crap?! Illidan?!"

Where the hell are your Warglaives?!

Locking eyes with the boss, Silver Sword was utterly stunned, even the rifle in his hands jammed from the shock.

As he cleared the stuck cartridge from the chamber, Silver Dad, clad in a K10 heavy exoskeleton, let out an excited roar.

He tossed aside his rifle, drew the [Jungle Corps Chainsaw] he’d bought from Boulder Arms just yesterday, and charged forward.

"Haha, come on!"

Facing the four-meter-tall figure, Silver Dad felt like a charging dwarf. But he believed that before the chainsaw capable of cutting anything, all were equal!

The broad blade whipped up a gale as it swung toward the boss’s chest.

Yet the anticipated scene of blood and flesh flying never came.

The roaring saw blade couldn’t even shear a single chest hair from the monster, and he felt as if struck by a speeding train.

Spitting out a mouthful of old blood, Silver Dad, with three sunken claw marks on his chest, flew backward like a broken kite, crashed heavily at the deck’s edge, broke through the damaged railing, and rolled outside.

"Ah—!"

The drawn-out scream faded into the distance.

"Dad!!!"

Watching Silver Dad plunge into the abyss, Silver Hand let out a grief-stricken roar, then turned and fixed a hateful glare on the monster.

Having cleared the jammed round, Silver Sword raised his rifle again, venting his fury through the spitting muzzle.

"I’ll fight you to the death!!!"

The two charged forward together.

And then—

The pair, who had only just revived, both met their ends.

Thick plasma dripped from his fingertips, chewing on bones, Gahn was drenched in blood, his eyes gleaming with a chilling ferocity.