Chapter 53: The Town "Model"

Inside this large, enclosed facility, the space was flat and rectangular, covering an area of 10,000 square meters, roughly equivalent to the size of four football fields, with a height of around 40 meters.

The facility's ceiling and walls were sealed with sturdy reinforced concrete, and powerful lighting fixtures made the entire area as bright as daylight.

Looking down from the ceiling, the facility resembled a scaled-down "model" of a small town, complete with orderly streets and various basic buildings, such as houses, apartments, and supermarkets.

The reason it was called a "model" was that more than half of the buildings were merely hollow shells, lacking any real function and inaccessible.

Beep—! Beep—!

Accompanying the shrill alarms, warning lights at the far end of the northern side of the facility began to flash. Shortly after, a gate slowly opened.

"Holy Mary... this place is huge."

"I thought we were being taken outside for some fresh air, but this isn't too bad—at least it's not stuffy."

Over fifty D-class subjects, dressed in orange prison uniforms, expressed their astonishment as they walked out of the gate into a fenced-off and barbed-wire-isolated area, where numerous locked equipment crates were piled up.

Thud.

As all the D-class subjects arrived in the isolation zone, the gate behind them automatically closed, and the alarms and warning lights ceased.

"What happens next?"

"How should I know?"

"Damn, I was just dreaming about getting it on... such a bummer."

"Man, just looking at your face pisses me off!"

The D-class subjects, who were all death row inmates or hardened criminals, were puzzled as to why they had been suddenly taken out of their cells and brought to this underground town by armed security personnel.

However, these individuals quickly turned their deep-seated anxiety into bickering, which soon escalated into confrontations and shoving.

"Attention all D-class personnel."

Just as the situation was about to spiral out of control, a voice, echoing with a thick nasal tone, began to address them over the loudspeaker:

"You are expendable personnel purchased by Atlas from various state and national prisons. You are considered scum, devoid of humanity, and guilty of unforgivable crimes. In theory, you should face the harshest punishment, either being executed or spending the rest of your life locked away in a dark, cold cell.

"But as long as you participate in and survive the upcoming product tests, Atlas will grant you the opportunity to improve your prison privileges, such as an extra dessert or an afternoon tea each day.

"Lastly, Atlas sincerely thanks you for your unconditional cooperation in assisting us with this experiment."

"Go to hell!"

"F*ck! Dessert? Afternoon tea?! That's not what I want!"

As soon as the broadcast ended, the D-class subjects started cursing loudly, clearly dissatisfied with the offered benefits.

Click—Click—!

However, the sound of the locks on the crates automatically unlocking momentarily silenced their complaints as they gradually gathered around the equipment crates.

Seeing that the locks had opened, they wasted no time in flipping the lids open.

"All the good stuff is here!"

"Hahaha! These are enough to keep me happy for a while!"

Upon opening the crates, they were greeted with a wide array of weapons and equipment, prompting cheers of excitement.

One of them picked up an instruction manual from the corner of the crate, reading aloud as if addressing his companions, or perhaps just muttering to himself: "Cellular Ammunition Rifle Base (CARB) system, a standard bullpup rifle with a 6.2x35mm caliber, magazine capacity of eighty rounds...

"Damn, this is some good stuff. Let me check out another one... Whoa! A .30cal caliber light machine gun, with bullets that can hit enemies behind cover through an algorithm... Does this mean the bullets can curve?!"

"Curving bullets?" Another D-class subject, skeptical, picked up the manual and flipped through it, carefully reading for a moment before correcting the other: 

"Curving, my ass. It means the bullets can make slight deviations, but it still requires the single-soldier system to lock onto the target. We can't fully use it just by holding it."

"Alright!"

At that moment, a bald man shouted, silencing the chaotic isolation area and drawing the attention of all the D-class subjects.

The bald man walked over to one of the equipment crates, pulled out a CARB shotgun, then surveyed the group, lowering his voice as he said:

"All this noise—are you all deaf? Didn't you hear them say 'pass the test and survive'? Do you really think Atlas has good intentions? If I stick around with you lot, I doubt I'll last a second."

After speaking, the bald man bent down to equip himself with a utility belt, loaded up on plenty of shotgun shells, grabbed a handgun and corresponding magazines, and then left the isolation zone without another word.

Once he entered the town, his figure quickly disappeared around a corner, making it clear he intended to go it alone.

Seeing this, the remaining D-class subjects stopped messing around, quickly picking up their preferred weapons and ample ammunition. Some formed small groups of three or five, while others went solo, all heading into the model town whose purpose and significance they had yet to understand.

Before long, over a dozen D-class subjects arrived at the town's center, where they found themselves at a crossroads.

Looking around, they saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Just as they were about to start complaining again:

"Awooo!! Awooo!!"

"Where the hell did these dogs come from?"

"Ah...! Damn! These mutts are biting me?!"

"Open fire!"

Rat-a-tat-tat!

The chaos and gunfire from another street echoed through the town.

?!

Hearing the commotion, the dozen or so D-class subjects tensed up. A few immediately sprinted towards the right-hand street, while the rest hesitated for a moment before following.

However, the first person to reach the intersection was struck by a stray bullet the moment he stepped out, hitting him square in the eye. His head exploded from the back, and his body swayed before collapsing to the ground, lifeless.

"Holy crap!"

"This guy sure had some bad luck."

The D-class subjects were momentarily taken aback by the scene, but after a few remarks, they cautiously rounded the corner and entered the street where the fight was taking place.

There, they witnessed a pack of countless "Doberman Pinschers" ferociously attacking a group of D-class subjects.

They even saw one individual get pounced on by two Dobermans, only to be torn apart in an instant, his body shredded to pieces.

!!!

Everyone was stunned. A quick count revealed at least seventy or eighty of these dogs, all strong enough to rip a person to shreds.

To help, or not to help? The D-class subjects were suddenly gripped by fear.

"Cowards! I'm not afraid of dogs!"

One muscular guy, showing no hesitation, raised his .30cal machine gun and began indiscriminately spraying bullets at both the crowd and the pack of dogs.

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