Chapter 63 64

Chapter 63: Elite

Bad luck... the cannibal...

Only now did the burly man recall the sensational killer haunting the city, the notorious murderer rumored in the streets. With a weak attempt to grasp the assailant, his arm flopped uselessly as the figure quickly withdrew its arm from his body, and the burly man collapsed to the ground without support.

Mr. Faraday glanced at the new "meal" beneath his feet and seemed to decide it was best to finish his earlier snack first. He squatted down again, and the sounds of chewing and licking resumed.

However, just seconds later, he abruptly looked up, his heightened hearing picking up an anomaly—many footsteps, just like those of his "food," moving towards him with a rapid, unsettling frequency, accompanied by a faintly familiar roaring sound.

Mr. Faraday took a few seconds to confirm the sounds were drawing closer and reluctantly dropped the food he held. With several powerful leaps, he ascended a slightly taller building. Without any obstructions, he could clearly see a long line of lights stopped outside the dock area, muttering to himself with a puzzled expression.

"Whoosh!"

A bright beam of light swept over, trapping Mr. Faraday within its glow, his figure starkly outlined. Then came a second and third beam.

Mr. Faraday's pupils contracted sharply, and he growled menacingly. He was on alert; the objects those "foods" had thrown earlier had made him quite uncomfortable, and these new floating, beaming objects seemed even stranger.

Not a hundred meters away, inside a black command vehicle.

"He's climbed up high. He's spotted us!" Sierra Blaze stated solemnly. From the helicopter camera feed, they could clearly see the monstrous figure on the rooftop.

Marlowe Chaplin also saw the scene. He leaned closer to the screen, scrutinizing the silhouette that had imprinted itself in his mind. He noted the figure's clothes were damp and clinging, as if he had just been pulled out of the water.

"Engage! Fire at will! Air units, block off the rear of the docks to prevent escape through the water!"

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

From beneath three black helicopters, six long tongues of red flame spat out, the brilliance of their bursts momentarily outshining the searchlights, illuminating the night sky like a lawnmower's rumble from a backyard, but deeper, more heart-pounding. Red tracer lines tightly covered the small rooftop area, quickly filling it with smoke and the sounds of continuous collapse!

Sensing intense danger, Mr. Faraday had already leapt down before the collapse, ignoring the height and landing with a heavy thud several meters away, obscured by falling debris. Amid the steel storm, inferior walls, railings, flower pots, and other debris scattered like rain, accompanied by clouds of dust and lime—a scene of utter chaos, obscuring the view.

The residential area of the docks was still inhabited, as evident from the various screams and cries coming from nearby. The closely packed low houses acted like natural barriers, momentarily hiding Mr. Faraday from the helicopters' view. The Gatling guns slung beneath the helicopters temporarily lost their target, slowing to a stop as they cooled.

Looking up at the nearly sheared-off roof, Mr. Faraday didn't look back as he leaped towards the docks, followed by numerous footsteps. Infrared lights from loaded automatic rifles swept over, but only managed to catch a fleeting shadow disappearing around a corner.

"Team A is in position!"

"Team B is in position!"

"Minimize civilian impact! Drive the target to an uninhabited area!"

Marlowe Chaplin issued orders through his headset with a grave expression. Although the operation's details wouldn't be publicly disclosed due to confidentiality, he desperately wished to avoid substantial casualties. Anytime such dangerous missions were undertaken, it was a gamble, only considered a success if collateral damage could be minimized. Fortunately, the target seemed to almost intuitively move towards the shoreline, likely in an attempt to escape, which was a relief to him.

"Team C has sighted the target, 23 meters away, heading towards the container area!"

For the first time, Mr. Faraday felt a potent threat!

The heavy, red-glowing devices he encountered instilled a feeling of being overpowered, making him instinctively want to retreat to his previous hiding spot—in the water.

However, the special operations team had completely surrounded him, hesitating to launch a fierce attack in a populated area. Thus, before he could reach the container area, he was directly exposed by the tactical flashlights.

Despite the cover of night, Mr. Faraday was still visible to the assault team equipped with helmet-mounted night vision devices.

His rapid speed and bizarre jumping and climbing, fully utilizing three-dimensional movement, further exposed him. There was no need for finger-point laser identification devices for the team to fire decisively without fear of hitting civilians—as the target was always either jumping

or climbing.

The 7.62mm automatic rifles instantly created a network of firepower, dense bullets whistling sharply as they tore through the air, chasing the wildly fleeing figure. These well-trained elite assault team members, compared to the earlier police, had a significantly higher hit rate, and even Mr. Faraday's ghostly speed couldn't completely evade them, emitting frustrated grunts, clearly in discomfort.

But unexpectedly, rather than retreating, trapped between forces, the target continued forward, bizarrely adhering to the wall of a container and climbing rapidly, defying gravity, tracing a large arc over their heads and breaking out of the encirclement.

"Team D, engage, open fire!"

"The target has broken through the encirclement; it seems unaffected by gravity, capable of crawling and jumping on container surfaces! Repeat, the target is moving very fast!"

Mr. Faraday, hit multiple times in the arms, legs, and torso, felt no pain but did feel the strong impact and the resistance of bullets stubbornly lodged in his flesh. Fortunately, his speed allowed him to quickly leap over the container's corner, entering a side alley and successfully evading Team D's line of sight.

At this moment, he was adhered to the side of a container in an eerily unnatural pose, his face and chest against the wall, limbs bent at impossible angles against human anatomy, sticking to the metal. At the points where his hands and feet touched the steel, countless tiny, dense suction disks continuously emerged and retracted, holding him firmly in midair.

Simultaneously, his robust muscles quickly shifted, forcing bullets lodged within his body to be pushed out and fall to the ground.

Yet Mr. Faraday's situation did not improve significantly, as he was hit again, over a dozen bullets piercing the container wall behind him, viciously breaking through his strong muscles and entering his body, drawing small spots of blood, causing him to emit a low growl.

The bullets, hard enough to tear through steel, continuously struck the container, making a crackling sound, each burst faster and more terrifying than the last.

Mr. Faraday could not understand that the firepower of the first police officers he encountered was weak, armed only with standard semi-automatic pistols that caused him minimal harm. In contrast, the special operations team was equipped with the latest 7.62mm automatic rifles, with fast firing rates, high power, and impressive momentum. These weren't just props with light and sound effects from TV or movies, which simple armor could deflect.

Humanity, through long years of war and bloodshed, had continually refined these terrifying machines, endowing them with a cruel yet astonishingly beautiful form of alternative art. At a distance of several dozen meters, the assault team's weapons were powerful enough to ensure penetration of the thin barriers and his unusually strong muscles, inflicting substantial damage.

The laser rangefinders and radar helmets covered a range of 35 meters, clearly indicating Mr. Faraday had not escaped this distance and was still subject to relentless attacks.

This unexpected injury once again agitated Mr. Faraday, and after several rapid changes in position, he found himself still under attack. As the assault teams from both sides closed in, he finally erupted, no longer evading but turning direction, facing the bullets head-on as he leaped rapidly left and right between containers, charging ferociously into Team D's midst like a vengeful specter.

Chapter 64: Hellfire

The tide of battle swiftly turned.

Mr. Faraday, previously on the defensive, finally regained the familiar sensation of effortlessly extinguishing each life, even those of the elite special ops team members, who couldn't match his bizarre speed at close range.

The chaotic scene also made them hesitant to fire recklessly, unlike earlier in the chase, where they could rely on their shooting accuracy and tight coordination to form an effective net of gunfire that inflicted substantial damage on Mr. Faraday. Now, faced with a disordered formation, they could no longer employ their unrestrained covering fire.

"Ah...!"

"Team D is engaged!"

"The target isn't incapacitated by gunfire..."

Hearing the screams over the comms and seeing the chaos on the monitors, Marlowe Chaplin's face turned a shade of steel, his fists clenched.

After so many chaotic years in Afghanistan and Iraq, where vast sums were poured into military expenses, the equipment of the U.S. military had indeed been rapidly modernized. The gear of the special operations teams was even more advanced; every soldier was equipped with the latest "Interceptor" body armor and bulletproof vests, along with modified Kevlar helmets.

However, these extensively armored protectors seemed paper-thin against the formidable attacks of the adversary. Marlowe Chaplin witnessed a team member being flung meters into the air by a single slap from the beast, landing with his neck almost twisted into a right angle, his cervical spine clearly shattered, hanging by skin and flesh alone.

Mr. Faraday was like a wounded beast, growing more ferocious with each attack. Although the strange gear worn by these "foods" prevented him from penetrating their bodies with a single blow, this did not significantly hinder him; each attack still claimed a life. Some of the operatives were hit so hard that their protective gear caved in, leaving visibly huge dents in their chests as blood sprayed uncontrollably from their mouths, their chests likely pulverized.

"Team D, disengage from the battlefield! All units, keep your distance from the target! If breached, disperse immediately and reorganize!"

Despite Marlowe Chaplin's rapid response, by the time Team D withdrew from the field, the original sixteen-member team had dwindled to just three, practically decimating the unit. One of the survivors was critically injured, his arms torn apart, bleeding profusely, unlikely to survive...

"Provide aerial support! Deploy Drones 1, 2, and 3!"

Marlowe Chaplin practically growled the command through gritted teeth. He knew his subordinates well; they were highly accurate live shooters, and with a thorough tactical briefing prior to the operation, they were supposed to maintain effective pressure on even a target as agile as this monster. However, despite being shot multiple times, the creature seemed barely affected, leading to a miscalculation in his strategic assessment.

Mr. Faraday chewed on the flesh he had ripped from some unfortunate's body.

This food was quickly digested, transformed into energy by some indistinguishable process, rapidly healing his wounds. The bullets inside him were once again expelled by his swelling muscles. He had bulked up since his appearance, now resembling a heavyweight boxer, but with muscle density on a completely different level.

However, he quickly realized that these "foods" had become craftier. As soon as he approached, they scattered, drastically reducing his efficiency in killing them while increasing the hits he took.

Even when he changed directions abruptly, the enemy refused to fall for it, retreating as soon as he came within a certain distance. They didn't retreat blindly; even while being chased, they always remembered to return fire—brave, efficient, and fiercely unyielding, a stark contrast to the easily scattered police force from the previous day.

Mr. Faraday began to contemplate retreat. Since these "foods" were so cunning, he thought it best to leave for now. After all, there were many more, less cunning and more vulnerable "foods" outside.

The assault teams, unable to engage in close combat, struggled to contain him effectively. After repeatedly scattering them, he finally broke through the encirclement. Keeping his distance, Mr. Faraday carefully navigated around the containers, wary of the flaming behemoths overhead. Fortunately, they were not nimble enough to follow his erratic path.

But this didn't mean he could escape easily. After distancing himself from most of the ground troops, he became a prime target for the helicopters again.

A deafening roar suddenly erupted, a massive wave of sound that nearly burst his eardrums. Mr. Faraday looked up just in time to see three sun-like orbs detaching from the hovering behemoths above and diving straight towards him!

Three RAH-76 Butler helicopters simultaneously spotted Mr. Faraday's figure as they hovered over the path leading to the port, unleashing a lethal attack. The three mounted Hellfire anti-tank missiles tore through the sky with terrifying force, rapidly descending towards the ground. Even without prior experience with these fiery behemoths, Mr. Faraday had no intention of testing their impact against him. His speed reached its peak as he swiftly climbed and leaped between the containers, moving like a sinister black specter, displaying agility that seemed not of this world.

Yet, once again, he was disappointed because he could not shake off these persistent trackers.

At that moment, the three missile-like stingers soared through the sky. After entering the container area and slowing down, the resultant massive sonic booms rattled the towering stacks of containers, sounding as if they might topple at any moment, a scenario as terrifying as a simultaneous hurricane and earthquake!

Even after the Hellfires slowed upon entering the container area, they continued to steadily close the distance. Mr. Faraday could only slightly evade them by using the containers as obstacles or making sharp turns, but they quickly caught up again, pushing him within their blast range in less than ten seconds.

"Boom!" "Boom!" "Boom!"

The three Hellfires exploded in succession!

Brilliant red flames shot up into the sky, coloring half of it with their radiant glow. The simultaneous detonation of over 20 kilograms of high-energy explosives from the missiles created a blast wave that nearly obliterated everything within dozens of meters. The ensuing thick smoke completely obscured visibility from all sides, the heat rising to unbearable levels, forcing the circling helicopters to pull back slightly, temporarily unable to ascertain the situation.