Bullfighter's Strategy

The spikes embedded in the breastplate required Tom's strength, six times over, to pull out forcefully, indicating the immense force behind their projectile that pierced through even iron plates.

Holding two shields to protect his body, Tom shouted loudly to Linda behind him, "This rat can shoot spikes, stay hidden, don't get hit!"

Linda quickly hid behind a table leg, but still peeked out, blinking her charming eyes curiously at the small "porcupine." "Is this the change you mentioned happening outside? Interesting, hehe, quite interesting!"

Interesting? Tom felt a headache coming on. This mouse was skilled in ranged attacks, its power rivaling that of his Termite Type-0 Cannon. But, just as he thought about it, the shield endured two spike attacks in quick succession; thankfully, he quickly half-crouched, or else his knees would have been hit.

And it's automatic fire, no need to reload!

With this in mind, Tom felt troubled. How could he fight against a mouse with a built-in automatic rifle when he had only a shield and lacked speed?

Fortunately, although the spikes were powerful, they still couldn't leave a scratch on the cookie shield given to him by Liu Lexuan, which was his biggest assurance at the moment.

Defense was in place, but what about counterattacks? Seeing the rhythmic shooting of hair needles from the mouse crouched in the corner, Tom saw an opportunity. He gently pressed the Termite Type-0 Cannon against his shoulder, then half-crouched, swiftly aiming at the mutant little mouse through the sights. The cookie shield against his body blocked another spike attack.

"If you can shoot, so can I!" Tom gritted his teeth, pouring red crystal energy into the cannon with one hand while the yellow crystal energy waited to be activated. But with the mouse continuously shooting spikes, Tom couldn't aim properly, the shield trembling under the force, causing the cannon barrel to shake, making it impossible to provide an effective aiming opportunity.

The shield slipped twice, and Tom had to use his hand to steady it each time; he knew he couldn't wait any longer. Straightening the shield again, he aimed the sights at the mouse and immediately activated the yellow crystal energy.

The fist-sized cannonball was propelled out by the repulsive force, but it only grazed the mouse's back. Instead of piercing through like Tom expected, it merely carved a groove, much like the first shovel on someone's head during a tonsure, extremely abrupt, which made Linda, hiding behind the table leg, burst into bell-like laughter.

In addition to blasting off a row of spikes, it also grazed the mouse's skin. This little red-eyed fellow retracted its launching posture, and its nose twitched a few times quickly before curling up into a ball of spikes.

"Wow, what's it doing? Playing dead like a turtle?" Linda exclaimed in amazement, but Tom waved his hand at her, "Danger, hide!"

"Tch, my dad isn't even this nervous about me, what are you nervous about?" Linda was quite displeased.

Tom couldn't be bothered with this little girl; he saw the spikes on the spiked ball suddenly contracting and expanding in a wave-like manner, then the whole ball started rolling.

"Hey, is it a spinning top?"

The principle of the rolling spike ball in front of him was similar to that of snake locomotion, utilizing friction between some scales on its abdomen and the ground to move the uncontacted parts forward, then swapping, and the mouse moved forward as a whole.

This rolling spike ball in front of him rolled in a similar way; as part of the spikes retracted, another part inflated, causing the ball to tilt towards the retracted part. With rapid alternation of spikes retracting and inflating, the entire mouse spike ball could roll quickly.

Watching a ball covered in spikes, almost as tall as a person, rolling towards him, Tom pressed the emergency latch, threw away the Termite Type-0 Cannon to lighten the load, then held the cookie shield with both hands, crouched, and pushed forward. Immediately, he felt a huge impact coming from the shield; he quickly tilted the shield upwards, lifting the ball upwards.

Using the slanted shield as a ramp, Tom threw the spiked ball upwards; the spikes scraped against the top of the street's zero armor, the ear-piercing friction making Tom's scalp numb.

The spiked ball bounced on the ground a few times, then hit the table leg not far behind, frightening Linda, who ran away in fear.

Tom held up the shield and activated the power mode again; the street armor was too cumbersome to move conveniently, so he could only draw the steel needle spear on his back and throw it out. The spear, with six times the strength, pierced the spiked ball, which was shaken by the mouse, and the needle fell to the ground.

This hurt it and successfully angered it, refocusing its attention on Tom. The spiked ball spun in place, then rumbled towards Tom once more.

This time, Tom was prepared and experienced; he pushed the shield against the spiked ball, then slightly adjusted the angle, deflecting it in a different direction.

Once, twice, three times. This mouse seemed tirelessly persistent; even though its spikes couldn't penetrate the shield and harm Tom, it continued to roll towards him incessantly.

With the defense of the cookie shield, as strong as Captain America's Vibranium shield, Tom seemed relaxed, even Linda, who had run to the foot of the bed, forgot her fear and shouted encouragement to him.

In Linda's eyes, the spiked ball mouse was like a raging bull, and the shield in Tom's hand was like the red cape in the hands of a bullfighter. Using it time and time again to toy with the mouse ball, though not as graceful and calm as a bullfighter, was still quite spectacular.

Therefore, every time Tom deflected the spiked ball, Linda would cheer excitedly, making it seem like a thrilling bullfight performance.

Tom, bolstered by the enhanced strength of the large red crystal, which provided six times his normal strength, could easily withstand the impact of the small mouse ball. Initially, his responses were somewhat clumsy, but gradually he found his rhythm, continuously familiarizing himself with the technique of deflecting and dispersing force with the shield. Eventually, he became so proficient that he could consciously direct the spiked ball to roll in the direction he wanted, thus avoiding it rolling towards Linda and threatening the safety of the biracial girl.

However, the mouse's rolling skills were also improving. Its frequency of impact on Tom became increasingly intense, with changes in direction and acceleration. Tom's timely adjustments after deflecting the ball became more refined. The pressure on Tom continued to mount, especially since he had activated the power mode, causing the street armor to be immobilized, leaving him vulnerable to being struck by the spiked ball if he attempted to move.

Continuing like this would be disadvantageous for Tom. He needed to find a way to break free from this situation quickly. Seizing a moment between impacts, Tom looked around and noticed the remote-controlled tank that had just entered, startlingly halted. An idea flashed through his mind. Immediately, he redirected the spiked ball and turned to shout to Linda, "Miss Lin, can you remote control your tank to come to my side?"

Linda blinked and immediately understood, "No problem! Ah, the remote control is over there."

Tom saw the small remote control lying on the open ground, conveniently within the battlefield of his confrontation with the mutated mouse.

But that posed a challenge.

"You wait!" Tom said, starting to move slowly. With each interval between the spiked ball's attacks, he took two steps, then quickly stopped to brace for the impending impact. Initially, he was hurried and a bit flustered, resulting in unstable defense and several scratches from the spikes on his arm. But as he gradually adapted to the rhythm, the armor on his right arm was cut open, and he suffered two wounds on his arm, blood flowing down his arm.

After enduring hundreds of attacks from the spiked ball for several minutes, he finally managed to reach the side of the remote control. Seizing the opportunity when the ball was deflected, Tom bent down, grabbed the remote control, and threw it towards Linda.

As soon as the remote control left his hand, the spiked ball came crashing down. Street armor, holding only the shield with one hand, endured the impact, causing Tom's body to lose balance and sit down on the ground.

The spiked ball adjusted its direction and aimed again, rolling towards Tom once more. Tom couldn't get up in time and could only sit on the ground, holding the shield with both hands to defend himself.

Although sitting stabilized his center of gravity, relying only on his buttocks for support was far less stable than using both legs and waist. After deflecting the spiked ball, he shook a few times and almost fell over.

Linda saw Tom's predicament and knew that if he lost the shield, his entire armor would be crushed by the spiked ball. So she flew over and slid on the wooden floor, enduring the severe pain in her chest, and reached for the remote control. She hurriedly shouted, "Tom, where do you want the tank to go?"

Struggling to steady the shield again to face another onslaught from the spiked ball, Tom shouted back, "My ten o'clock direction!"

This direction reference is typically based on the speaker, with their facing direction being twelve o'clock, their back being six o'clock, the left being nine o'clock, and the ten o'clock position being the upper-left corner. This method of expression facilitates clear communication of target direction for the speaker compared to a simple left or right direction, which is more specific.

However, Tom wasn't sure if Linda understood this directional indication. If she didn't, Tom would have to resort to simpler directions, meaning he would have to endure at least two more spiked ball attacks.

Now sitting on the floor, unable to utilize the coordination of legs and waist to exert six times the strength, defending against the spiked ball attacks was unstable. Each attack meant that the next time the shield might slip from his hand, and given the destructive force of the rotating spiked ball, if it spun around on the street armor, Tom would likely be crushed to pieces along with his armor.

Fortunately, Linda understood, shouting back, "Roger!" The remote-controlled tank immediately started moving.

Tom barely withstood another round of spiked ball attacks, then saw the remote-controlled tank successfully stop at his left side, at the ten o'clock direction.

He immediately adjusted his position, bringing his feet together and bending his knees, adopting a squatting position. This was the most stable position when sitting. When he saw the next spiked ball coming, he immediately lifted the shield to meet it, then slightly adjusted the direction.

The spiked ball formed by the mutated mouse was successfully deflected, but while it was still in the air, it adjusted its body. It waited to land before changing direction to attack Tom again. This time, it would definitely crush Tom, as it saw him exerting all his strength to deflect it this time, causing his entire body to fall due to excessive force, and the shield had slipped from his hand.