Chapter 31: Blood and Fire
"Drip, drip, drip..."
Gus was almost entirely soaked in red, surrounded by bodies mutilated and dead in tragic states. The warm blood slowly dripping down his arm under the cold expression illuminated by the nearly destroyed, fiercely burning car sent shivers down one's spine without the chill of the cold.
Upon receiving Bruce's instructions, this demon, heavily wounded and filled with murderous intent, immediately turned its head, its bloodthirsty gaze seemingly unaffected by the distance, chilling the heart of the sniper Dryden who had been observing through his scope. Instinctively, he pulled the trigger again, missing as expected.
This was because the terrifying brute leaped over ten meters high, landing directly onto the plain next to the highway and sprinting straight towards him at an unimaginably fast speed.
Gus had locked his sights on this sniper, marking the first time he had been so severely injured. To avoid exposing his identity, he had not transformed into his demonic form. Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue, as even regular bullets did limited damage to him. However, he hadn't anticipated the enemy's firepower to be so formidable. If not for his robust vitality and muscle strength, he might have been seriously wounded and greatly reduced in combat effectiveness.
During his charge, his muscles were fully engaged. It was less a run and more a series of leaps, each bursting with tremendous force and covering at least seven or eight meters, almost creating a whirlwind that whipped the grass into a frenzy, leaving a shallow trail behind as he stormed towards Dryden's position.
This is bad! Time to retreat!
Dryden finally decided to abandon the sniping position. By this time, two elite squads were almost completely wiped out. Lloyd, wearing an exoskeleton, had vanished without a trace, and the communicator was dead silent. After attempting to call out twice more to no avail, he stopped, guessing the commander was likely in grave danger. Today's ambush had nearly resulted in total annihilation; failure was inevitable.
Under normal circumstances, in a pre-arranged ambush spot on the open plains, armed with an anti-material sniper rifle, facing a few opponents without long-range capabilities, this situation would typically be described as a one-sided massacre. However, today he was powerless against the enemy, and his first instinct was to retreat!
The monster-like man's eerie high-speed movement and his superhuman vitality had completely shattered Dryden's confidence. He simply had no assurance that he could take the opponent down.
These people are definitely not normal!
Dryden's heart was filled with bitterness, yet his hands remained steady and precise, dismantling the tripod and slinging the massive Barrett over his shoulder as he quickly turned to dash down the hill.
This ambush spot was carefully chosen, surrounded mostly by plains with only a few scattered hills. The hill under Dryden's feet, rising over 50 meters, provided a tactical high ground. At the base behind the hill, a camouflaged UH-58B Black Hawk helicopter, their sole means of transport for this operation, was parked.
From his line of sight, Dryden could already glimpse the helicopter. His steps were quick, darting down the hill scattered with sparse trees and rocks, skillfully avoiding all obstacles without slowing down.
The key to rapid downhill escape on foot was maintaining balance, endurance, and a strong physique. This was training he had received while serving in a mountain special forces unit. Clearly, this experienced professional soldier's survival skills were far from rusty, and his physical condition remained robust. In nearly twenty seconds, he had crossed the hill and jumped into the helicopter.
"The operation failed, we need to retreat now!"
Without taking a moment to catch his breath, Dryden urged repeatedly.
Only two people were left on the helicopter, the pilot and a gunner, who had also learned of the ambush's outcome through their communicators, though they were not as certain as Dryden. Hearing him speak, they hesitated no longer and started the helicopter.
"Are there any other team members retreating?"
The pilot wanted further confirmation. The thought that the Black Nest company's elite squad had suffered such a devastating defeat in a one-sided ambush was hard for him to believe, especially since the communications had been filled with strange terms like "monsters" and "indestructible," leaving him puzzled about what exactly had happened.
"No one's left, Lloyd is out of contact, vanished, and the rest are dead! Hurry up, they're coming after us!" Dryden said, tapping the pilot's seat back forcefully, anxiously unstrapping the Barrett. His words made both the pilot and the gunner tense up.
"How many are coming after us?!"
However, their question left Dryden momentarily unsure of how to respond. How could he explain that an unkillable monster was chasing them down unarmed? He opened his mouth, struggling to find the right words.
Fortunately, the helicopter had already begun to ascend slowly, allowing Dryden to
gradually relax. Just as he was considering how to report the situation, the gunner suddenly exclaimed in surprise:
"Look!"
Dryden turned sharply, only to see that nightmarish figure crossing the plains, charging towards them with the speed of a cheetah, already within fifty meters. Too fast! From his retreat to the helicopter taking off, it had only been thirty to forty seconds, yet this man had covered nearly 700 meters! Was this even humanly possible?!
"FUCK! Kill him!"
On both sides of the helicopter, M60 machine guns were mounted. The gunner, though astonished by his terrifying leaping ability, demonstrated remarkable composure, pulling the trigger without hesitation.
The M60's muzzle flashed with a fierce flame nearly a meter long, as a barrage of bullets poured down on Gus in mid-air, with golden casings cascading down like a waterfall. At that moment, the only thought in his mind was that this guy, leaping into the air, was just a big, foolish target, ready to be shredded by the machine gun.
Chapter 32: Fury
Already driven to madness by the slaughter, Gus faced the incoming metal storm without a hint of fear. Instead, a bloodthirsty, ferocious smile spread across his lips, as if he had spotted the most delicious prey in the world.
With a wave of his large, sinewy black hand protecting his head, he completely ignored the bullets spraying at him. His body turned into a cannonball, crashing heavily into the cabin, causing the helicopter, which was gradually gaining altitude and speed, to dip slightly—a testament to the force of his leap. He even sent the gunner, who had opened his mouth in shock, flying across to the other side of the cabin with a loud bang!
In such close quarters, with Gus's strength, it was like an adult bullying a child—utterly no contest. Among the three on board, Dryden was undoubtedly the most vigilant. He quickly drew his pistol and fired rapidly, but after just two shots, Gus swatted the gun away with a slap, leaving Dryden's arm hanging at an unnatural angle, the bone visibly broken.
Dryden grunted and stumbled backward, but there was nowhere to retreat in the cramped cabin, his back pressing against the wall.
The gunner previously sent flying choked out blood with a cough, struggling to rise but then freezing, his eyes bulging as if he had seen the most unimaginable sight.
Before them, Gus's clothes were already torn beyond recognition, allowing a clear view of his bulging, strong muscles that seemed to pulsate with life. Dozens of deformed, blood-stained bullets were forcibly pushed out of his body, clinking onto the cabin floor.
Not just that, after expelling all the bullets, a layer of pitch-black scales rapidly grew over his skin, expanding his physique by a size, turning him into a creature of nightmarish terror!
The crisp sound of bullets hitting the ground was like a death knell to them. Gus, having locked onto Dryden—the one who had inflicted a heavy blow on him—let out a low roar. With a sweep of his arm, he pierced Dryden's chest at a speed beyond human reaction, his hand bursting through the back!
"Snap!"
As this fearsome demon retracted his arm with a wicked laugh, Dryden's face turned pale, disbelievingly looking at the huge gash in his chest, his strength draining away. He collapsed heavily to the floor, his eyes gradually blurring yet stubbornly fixed on Gus's waist, the only area not covered by scales. They could see tiny buds of flesh growing at a slow yet steady pace, closing a wound the size of a ping pong ball, eerily without a drop of blood.
Damn it! If only I hadn't run, kept sniping with the Barrett, maybe this wouldn't be the end!
This elite sniper, who had claimed countless lives, breathed his last with a trace of reluctance, eyes wide open in death...
"FUCK! You goddamn monster. Die! Die! Die! Go to hell!"
The gunner, driven to the brink by this scene, screamed hysterically, stumbling forward. His hands wide open, each clutching an M65 grenade with the pin pulled, lunged at Gus, hugging his legs tightly, determined to take Gus down with him in a final act of defiance.
Gus reacted swiftly, kicking the gunner against the cabin wall with such force that the helicopter shook. The gunner's body couldn't withstand the impact; his chest cavity collapsed. Despite his unwillingness, he weakened and released his grip, blood oozing from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, clearly not far from death.
"No!"
The pilot, in a panic, pulled out his pistol, only to see the grenade slowly rolling across the cabin floor, while the black beast swiftly leaped out of the helicopter, disappearing from his view.
"Boom!"
The helicopter, suspended in mid-air, turned into a massive fireball. The explosion's shockwave rapidly spread in all directions, quickly catching up with Gus, who had leaped out, sending him plummeting even faster, unable to control his fall until he crashed onto a hillside. After several rolls and crushing a few small trees, he finally stopped.
Helicopter parts and propellers were scattered all around, clinking as they fell. But Gus, lying on the ground, paid no heed. After more than a minute, this formidable demon finally stood up, his eyes flickering with surprise as he surveyed the devastation.
For the first time, he felt a wariness towards these humans. Their endless variety of killing weapons was dizzying. Without transforming into his demonic form, he could have easily been severely injured or even killed on the spot. Even at his peak, he would only be able to handle 6 to 8 squads like this in a battle of the same intensity.
Minutes later, Gus, looking somewhat worse for wear from his injuries, returned to the scene of the ambush. The highway, once busy with traffic, was now eerily silent, choked with the smell of gunpowder. The road was littered with bullet casings and shattered stones, the aftermath of a sudden and fierce ambush, making it look like a battlefield with no other living soul in sight.
Bruce was holding Trista, who was shivering uncontrollably, whispering words of comfort to her. His face was expressionless, as if lost in thought. Trista's behavior was relatively normal; she hadn't panicked or done anything irrational amidst the chaos of battle, staying huddled in the corner of her seat the whole time, which was commendably brave.
The only thing that bothered him was the loss of several bodyguards. They were the fortress's seeds, a valuable asset to the company.
Gus dumped Lloyd's body on the ground. This elite soldier from Black Nest had been dismembered before being shot dead with a pistol, a somewhat more "normal" death compared to the bizarre conditions of other Black Nest soldiers' corpses. It was likely too late to hide their fates; British authorities would probably arrive at the scene soon.
Lloyd could never have imagined in his wildest dreams that someone could overpower him, equipped with an exoskeleton, using sheer physical strength alone, leaving his eyes wide open in disbelief, perhaps in death's refusal to accept.
Bruce only inquired about the basics and left it at that, not delving into who was behind the ambush. After all, Lloyd didn't have the clearance to know such details. But the person capable of mobilizing such a massive operation and so eager to target him could only be one individual—Lowell Lockheed.
More pressing to Bruce was another discovery: the Black Nest soldiers' combat systems were capable of uploading data. This meant that aside from those whose equipment was destroyed or who died immediately, it's likely that some details of the battle, including Gus's actions, had been recorded and sent back to the enemy's command center.