"...Quicker than words can tell, I pulled off this and that maneuver, flicked my dagger right into that tin can's visor, catching him completely off guard! Then I seized the moment, pulled the pin, and all six grenades went off together, swallowing both of us in the blazing inferno!"
On the forum.
Battlefield Atmosphere Group was vividly detailing his heroic exploits in battle, treating his own demise as entirely beside the point.
He was unlike Edge Paddler.
While Brother Edge would feel a twinge of guilt whenever he failed to bring his squadmates back alive, Old Battlefield couldn't care less about the death of his good buddy I'm the Darkest; his only passion was researching every conceivable way to die.
During their last scrap with the Bone Chewer tribe, he had rigged a suicide fuse onto his clothes meant to set off all his grenades at once, but the marauders had folded far too fast for him to get the chance.
Now that he had finally found an opening to use it, he was practically dancing with joy.
Unfortunately, Battlefield Atmosphere Group's storytelling skills were mediocre at best. After rambling for half an hour, not only were the active players confused, but even the forum lurkers hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about.
Indebted Big Eye: "What do you mean by 'this and that maneuver' exactly?"
Ye Ao Nai Wo He: "Hilarious. I'm just gonna sit back quietly and watch you perform."
Canyon Fugitive Mole: "I have a question. How did you blow up armor with grenades when a 37mm armor-piercing shell couldn't even penetrate it?"
Elven King Fugui: "Yeah, I was just about to ask that. And what the hell is this tin can? Power armor? Or riveted plate armor like Bucky's?"
Ye Shi: "What was the new monster called again? That's what I actually care about."
Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Dammit! Can't someone show a little concern for me? You heartless bastards!"
Elaina: "Sure, sure. Locked out for three whole days—must be tough on you. (Doge)"
Commander Spring: "Give it a rest, stop bragging. I saw the whole thing! Your grenades did nothing more than scratch the paint. Zero damage. (Side-eye)"
Makabazi: "Hahahaha, so real!"
Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Holy shit, Spring?! You're dead too? (Shock)"
Commander Spring: "Isn't it normal that I'm down here? The fourth wave's difficulty was completely off the charts. It was clearly a scripted death."
Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Heh, I figured a campy bastard like you would definitely make it back alive."
Commander Spring: "Piss off. (Eye roll)"
All 125 players were killed in action.
Since the closed beta of Wasteland OL began, there had never been a battle so devastating.
In particular, many of them had only just gotten into the game. Having spent half a day experiencing firsthand just how 'one hundred percent real' this virtual reality title was, they had now been given a harsh dose of reality by the game itself.
Ghost Hunting in Grave: "It's realistic, alright. But it's also way too damn hard."
Bibimbap with Ashes: "+1. During the fourth wave, at least twenty Crawlers broke into the building where our Squad C was... How the hell were we supposed to fight that?"
Silver Daddy: "Squad A had it even worse! A tough guy with health-lock charged straight at us! Damn it, if I hadn't tried to save my precious sons, there's no way in hell I would've fed for free."
Silver Hand: "Piss off! You're just garbage, what the hell does that have to do with me?"
Silver Sword: "Exactly! You talk as if you wouldn't have fed without the two of us!"
Silver Daddy: "%#&@!"
I'm the Darkest: "Alright, stop arguing, both of you. Who could possibly have it worse than me? I wasn't even online for six hours before having to log off before sunrise, and then that dog Old Battlefield mocked me on top of it! T.T"
Edge Paddler: "Hahahaha, credit where it's due, you really got screwed the hardest. (Crying laughing)"
A battle of this scale was an event in itself. Virtually everyone made a thread on the forum, either venting their grief or cursing the developers.
Mostly, however, they were discussing the new mutant species that had never been seen before.
Especially that tin can.
The two managers of the No. 81 Steel Mill had been muttering non-stop. How could a 37mm armor-piercing shell ricochet when its penetration at a hundred meters was nearly a hundred millimeters?!
Ya'er I Wanna Go to the Restroom: "It's completely absurd!"
Brother Levin: "If only we could get a scrap of that armor to study!"
WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "You're just bad at the game. Just wait until the fighting starts again, and I'll show you my latest breakthrough. (Grin)"
Ya'er I Wanna Go to the Restroom: "Heh."
Brother Levin: "Keep dreaming!"
Aside from that tin can, there were several other mutant varieties the players had never encountered before.
Although the developers hadn't updated the compendium in the database or provided official designations for the new monsters, this naturally posed no obstacle to the imaginative players.
What did official designations matter anyway?
What serious player remembered official names?
Did anyone still remember the official names for Kalista, Vlad, or Lucian?
Synthesizing the information discussed across the forum, Brother Fang Chang quickly compiled reference cards for the new mutant species introduced in this version and gathered them into a strategy guide.
It made discussion and coordination much easier for the players.
[Butcher: Also referred to as 'Fatty.' Possesses extremely thick fat layers, massive health pool, no armor, and strength nearing 9. Size: L. Threat rating falls between a gnawer and a Crawler. Attack pattern resembles a gnawer; extremely foul-tempered. Suspected special ability involves throwing companions; be especially careful when one stands beside a Detonator, as the Detonator essentially becomes its grenade!]
[Plague Giant: Nicknamed 'Mountain of Flesh' or 'Giant.' Stitched together from countless pieces of flesh, five stories tall, face wider than a balcony, legs as thick as bridge piers, but slow-moving. Houses one large and one small mouth on its abdomen and head, capable of spawning gnawers while advancing. Stats: ? Size: EX. Threat rating unknown; suspected siege unit. Weakness unknown; fire attacks recommended, capable of dealing true damage!]
[Decayed Knight: Prototype appears to be power armor. The rusted plating is overgrown with creep. Possesses extraordinarily high health, defense, speed, and strength; specializes in close-quarters melee. Estimated level around 60; extremely dangerous! Weaponry varies depending on the unit, mostly wielding chainswords identical to the T-10 model. Size: XL. Nicknamed 'Big Sword.']
[Empress: Resembles Medusa from ancient Greek mythology, body completely coated in dark red creep, with finger-thick tentacles swaying atop its head. Broad shoulders and a long torso, with a skirt-like lower body and no visible leg structure. Suspected to move via squirming tentacles underneath its skirt-like fungal mass, leaving behind a dark red fungal trail. Attack method unknown, threat rating unknown. Size: L. Nicknamed 'Braided Sis' or 'Auntie Sis.' Suspected to possess powerful dominance over surrounding mutants; perhaps the 'command tower' of the Tide?]
"...Aside from more mutant variants, all evidence suggests that these slime-mold-type mutants seem to possess a certain degree of 'intelligence' during the Tide."
"In tactical choices, they do not simply swarm forward all at once. Instead, they launch multi-echelon, highly concentrated assaults, showing the sense to deplete ammunition using cannon fodder first before advancing high-health units in concert with massive waves of light units, all while highly mobile units flank from the sides."
"While this is not an especially sophisticated tactic, when combined with their sheer numbers, it is still not to be underestimated!"
"The truly brutal battlefield will likely be the decisive clash to come!"
"We need heavier weaponry, and enough artillery shells!"
68th Street.
Inside the forward command post set up in a roadside storefront, Chu Guang was browsing the official Wasteland OL website on his tablet after finishing the tactical briefing.
It had to be said that these players were all genuinely gifted. Real combat experience was hidden in those discussion threads.
Some added details, some argued, and some summarized!
He had just been fretting over what to name those unseen mutants.
And here they were, handed to him on a silver platter.
"I almost feel bad about this."
A smile broke across his weary face. Chu Guang swiped his index finger, tapped twice, and copied the text from the post straight into the official database.
Seeing that the dog developer had updated, the forum erupted into another wave of chatter.
It all boiled down to a single sentiment.
Everything they had spent hours discussing had once again been ripped off by the dog developer!
The corners of Chu Guang's mouth curled upward.
Right then, Xiao Qi's voice sounded in his ear.
"Master, it is already two in the morning. It would be best for you to get some rest soon."
There was a hint of concern in the voice.
Setting the tablet aside, Chu Guang rubbed his dry eyes.
"I know."
If the Tide possessed a degree of intelligence and could flexibly employ tactics, then they certainly wouldn't plod along until their entire horde formed a congested mass before launching an assault on his positions.
The previous night's airstrike, in particular, was bound to make them wary. Intelligence was an advantage they had gained through evolution, but it was also their vulnerability.
If his judgment was correct...
There was another tough battle waiting for them tomorrow.
...
Six in the morning.
Just as Chu Guang had anticipated, approximately two thousand gnawers pushed through the vast sprawl of ruins and reached 68th Street.
They appeared intent on preventing the combat engineers from continuing work on the defensive line, but unfortunately, they had missed their last chance the previous night.
The street had been cleared into an open killing field, with massive chunks of concrete debris moved to the side streets to constrict the width of the battlefield.
The menacing army of gnawers slammed headlong into the defensive line the players had spent the entire night fortifying.
Their timing was especially coincidental, coinciding precisely with the morning shift change. Players who had yet to log off simply decided to stay, tossing aside their shovels and pickaxes, grabbing their rifles, and returning to the barricades.
Along with six hundred players currently online, there were nearly two hundred guards.
Though the charge of two thousand gnawers appeared ferocious, it was swiftly reduced to a field of corpses in the face of the sudden, erupting storm of steel and fire.
By a window.
Crouching on the sill, Makabazi peeked outside and clicked his tongue.
"Damn it! Why is it all gnawers? Where's that big brute we were talking about on the forum all night... Holy crap, what the hell is that?"
Watching Mosquito and two rookies haul a two-meter-long barrel and mount into the room, Makabazi was completely dumbfounded.
"A recoilless rifle!" Mosquito gave a sly grin. "A replica of the Carl Gustaf! Fires 88x250mm shells. Right now I've only designed armor-piercing and high-explosive variants. Max penetration is 350mm of rolled homogeneous armor! Packs an insane punch!"
Makabazi counted on his fingers and was instantly blown away.
"Holy crap?! It can penetrate a Tiger tank?!"
Mosquito rolled his eyes.
"No shit, the Tiger's an antique from World War II. They aren't even from the same era, so stop comparing them, will you?"
Before composite armor was developed, shaped-charge warheads utilizing the Munroe effect to defeat targets treated tanks like mere toys.
Never mind a Tiger; even a Maus would have to kneel.
You didn't even have to look at modern times.
By the late stages of World War II, many tanks simply went unarmored because they couldn't withstand shaped charges anyway, leading to the temporary rise of the 'armor is useless' doctrine, leaving the battlefields littered with thinly-skinned tin cans.
If a single shot was going to punch through whether you wore armor or not, you were better off going without it so you could at least move faster.
The principle behind a shaped charge wasn't complicated. By using the shaped-charge cavity to focus a high-temperature, high-pressure jet of molten metal into a single line, internal pressure was concentrated on a pinpoint to pierce enemy armor.
Because centrifugal force weakened the effectiveness of the metal jet, such shells were typically fin-stabilized and fired from smoothbore barrels.
The advantage of this shaped-charge warhead was that its armor-penetration capability did not degrade over distance. Whether at a hundred meters or a thousand meters, the penetration remained essentially the same. Unlike the 37mm 'Heavy Lance,' which barely penetrated a hundred millimeters at a hundred meters and did nothing more than scratch the paint at a kilometer.
As for the fuze, with historical precedents to draw from, Mosquito skipped past World War II-era mechanical fuzes and opted straight for a piezoelectric fuze. In other words, a recycled piece of piezoelectric ceramic was installed in the warhead, using the pulse current generated by the piezoelectric effect to detonate the primer and trigger the metal jet.
Compared to No. 81 Steel Mill, which dumped all its skill points into barrels and metallurgy, Goblin Technology had poured every single point into rocketry and explosives.
Between propellants and explosive charges, Mosquito had evolved almost to the level of a specialist.
While many of the formulas had been scavenged from the internet, being able to actually produce these things in the wasteland made Mosquito something of a genius in his own right.
Swallowing hard, Makabazi silently prayed.
He truly hoped the man stuck to selling furniture in the real world and didn't pull off anything crazy.
Meanwhile, atop the roof of a nearby building.
Vannus, binoculars in hand, was gazing toward the clock tower several kilometers away and the bridge pier beneath it that was barely visible as an outline.
"The spore cloud is spreading to both flanks..."
"The mutants seem to be planning a flanking maneuver."
Fully armed, Chu Guang narrowed his eyes.
"Did they get a taste of success?"
"Perhaps," Vannus pondered for a moment before continuing. "The previous engagement likely made them realize we possess sufficient firepower. A frontal assault against our position offers very low odds of victory!"
Chu Guang had already accounted for the possibility of a flanking maneuver.
Hunter squads composed of Awakened were dispersed along both flanks of the perimeter, scouring the sector for Crawlers and Tyrants.
There were actually very few usable routes across the wasteland. As it turned out, the fruiting bodies were not nearly as pervasive as the airborne spores they released.
When faced with obstacles, the creatures struggled in the exact same terrain that gave human survivors trouble.
Aside from Crawlers, mutants like gnawers and Butchers had a hard time scaling sheer drops, ruined buildings, and similar obstructions. They could only advance by forming human ladders, clambering up one over another.
Consequently, their main force was funneled along the ruins of the Changling Elevated Road.
Chu Guang said, "The skirmishers spreading along the secondary streets can be handled by the Awakened. I've sent out at least two hundred men to trim their branches."
Vannus gave him a surprised look.
He was growing increasingly certain that Shelter 404 was populated entirely by military officers from the Human Alliance era. Otherwise, it was hard to explain why their martial spirit was so fiercely abundant.
Such a phenomenon wasn't entirely unheard of.
Some shelters held ordinary civilians, while others housed the elite of every industry.
Even in its early years, the Legion had shared ties with them, with a portion of their equipment inherited from that prosperous era.
Still, that was all ancient history from two centuries ago.
...
The grayish-green cloud rolled forward slowly until it brushed against the edge of the defensive line.
Chu Guang instructed the players under his command to build bonfires among the ruins, using fire and smoke to drive back the foul-smelling spores.
Though there was no evidence that this weakened the mutants' combat effectiveness, it at least offered the frontline troops better visibility.
From within the gray haze, a rusted suit of power armor emerged.
The decaying heavy plating was overgrown with dark red creep. Holding a massive chainsword in its hand, it advanced with heavy, thudding strides.
A chilling aura of murderous intent and immense pressure bore down upon the line. Crouching behind their barricades, the guards couldn't help but swallow hard.
Their biological instincts told them:
This monster was terrifyingly strong!
Only the players wore expressions of eager anticipation. Challenging bosses were the only ones worth fighting; bullying gnawers over and over was utterly boring.
Mosquito waved Makabazi aside, excitedly directing his newly recruited underling, Duo Ming, to mount the recoilless rifle on the windowsill.
"Quick, quick, load a HEAT round!"
Makabazi was baffled.
"What the hell is a HEAT round?"
Before Mosquito could answer, Zhui Hun snapped impatiently from the side, "Shaped charge! The shell with the standoff probe on the front!"
The wooden crate was pried open.
Shouldering the shell between the two of them, they pushed it into the breech from behind.
Makabazi instinctively backed away several meters, ducking beneath an adjacent window, not daring to get close and only watching from afar.
He wasn't afraid of dying.
But getting blown up by his own teammates would be far too humiliating!
Mosquito paid him no mind. He excitedly turned the handwheel on the breechblock with force, locked the rear firing mechanism into place, and pulled out the safety pin.
The barrel was aligned with the power armor.
Directing Duo Ming to grip the tube, Mosquito raised his binoculars to gauge the distance and barked under his breath.
"Set sight to 200 yards!"
"Fire!"
Dense smoke and sparks blasted from the rear of the tube as the 88mm shell roared out of the muzzle, stabilized by six tail fins as it shot straight toward the power armor.
Just as the shell was about to strike its target, and as Mosquito clenched his fists in triumph, the Decayed Knight raised its right arm—the one gripping the chainsword.
In a flash of lightning, too fast for the eye to track!
All anyone saw was a streak of black shadow, and the incoming rocket was sliced cleanly in two by the chainsword.
Makabazi: "Holy shit?!"
Duo Ming: "Are you kidding me?!"
Zhui Hun: "What kind of sorcery is that?!"
Staring wide-eyed as his proudest creation was chopped in half, Mosquito's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
What kind of move was that?
Parrying a rocket with a blade?!
Because shaped charges relied on a molten metal jet to inflict damage, the projectile's flight velocity wasn't especially high. Being cut in two was equivalent to a dud, completely nullifying the warhead.
A crimson gaze locked onto them, and the hair on the back of Mosquito's neck stood on end.
Though separated by two or three hundred meters, that distance provided zero sense of safety.
"Reload! Quick, reload the damn thing!"
The two lackeys in the room scrambled frantically, ramming another shell into the tube.
Loading, aiming, and firing were executed in one fluid sequence.
The shell streaked toward the power armor like a javelin, but the outcome was identical to the first—it was sliced in two with effortless grace by the chainsword.
Shouts echoed from downstairs.
"Holy crap, Mosquito, can you do this or not?"
"How did both rounds end up as duds?"
Mosquito roared back in fury.
"Piss off! Did that look like a damn dud to you?!"
Grayish-green smoke drifted out from beneath the bulky helmet, and a hint of mockery seemed to flicker in the crimson pupils.
In its eyes, the humans before it had exhausted their tricks.
The heavy suit stepped forward, and from the ruins behind it, more mutants began pouring out of the dense gray-green fog.
The Decayed Knight raised the meter-long chainsword in its grip, swung it forward from afar, and let out a muffled growl beneath its armor.
The sound seemed to say—
"Slaughter them all!"
As if hearing a charge trumpet, the Crawlers behind it let loose shrill, excited howls, bounding forward on powerful limbs.
The towering Tyrants also lengthened their strides, rushing forward in giant steps alongside the gnawers around them.
The machine guns mounted in the surrounding buildings opened fire first, chattering violently as they swept streams of lead into the surging tide.
Crouching behind their barricades, the players and guards tightened their grips on their weapons in unison, every nerve stretched taut.
"Here they come!"
Right then, a crack piercing the sound barrier tore through the air.
Just as the Decayed Knight among the horde took another stride forward, its chest was struck as though by a speeding truck, jolting its entire frame violently.
Black blood erupted from its back, and large patches of creep peeled away from the plating. The tin can looked down at its once-invincible chest armor, the crimson light leaking from the slits of its helmet contracting slightly.
A massive hole had been blasted through the breastplate, which boasted an effective thickness of 400mm of rolled homogeneous armor!
Too fast!
Where had the attack come from?
Cracks spiderwebbed out from the crater, exposing a large swath of dark red flesh. The Decayed Knight snapped its head up, scanning ahead to find the source of the strike.
Yet before it could finish raising its gaze, another supersonic crack snapped through the air.
A heavy spike drove straight into its forehead, blasting its head, helmet, and shoulder armor into fragments!
The Decayed Knight collapsed heavily to the ground.
The horde's forward momentum visibly shuddered to a halt. While the mutants didn't stop in their tracks, their formation fell into obvious disarray.
A certain power had been commanding them all along, and the aura that power granted them had now collapsed alongside the fallen suit of power armor!
Standing atop the roof, Chu Guang calmly lowered the Gauss rifle in his hands.
Two factory-original fin-stabilized 'Spike' rounds, exiting the barrel at Mach 5 with 140,000 joules of kinetic energy, engineered specifically for anti-armor duty.
Never mind an aging suit of power armor; not even a brand-new suit fresh off the assembly line could withstand a single shot.
To be safe, Chu Guang hadn't spared his precious original ammunition, putting the first shot into the chest and the second into the head to ensure maximum destruction of the slime mold fruiting bodies within the armor.
He had originally reserved a third shot for the lower body, but it seemed unnecessary now.
In the distance, a piercing shriek echoed from the thick grayish-green fog, seemingly venting pure fury.
Chu Guang glanced up, but through the layers of high-rises, it was difficult to pinpoint the exact location and distance.
Was that what the players called the 'Empress'?
Based on his observations and deductions, the broodmother couldn't issue real-time commands to every individual mutant. Otherwise, why would they need to travel all the way from the city center? Simply summoning every gnawer inside every skyscraper would already produce a terrifying number.
And it would have been impossible to defend against!
In short, the true core of the Tide wasn't the fruiting bodies like the gnawers or Crawlers, but the 'routers' capable of directing them and providing information services.
The Decayed Knight he had just eliminated was one such 'router,' holding a rank in the slime mold hierarchy roughly equivalent to a centurion or millenarian.
And that 'Empress' was very likely the supreme commander!
Ignoring the shriek for the moment, Chu Guang looked down over the battlefield below.
Raising his index finger, he tapped lightly on his helmet.
"Artillery team, creeping barrage to suppress the street, starting five hundred meters ahead of our lines."
"Antiaircraft guns, depress your barrels and lay down fire!"
Excited shouts came through the comms channel.
"Copy that!"
The mortar positions fired first. Whistling shells arced across the sky, bursting into blossoms of flame over the forward lines.
The blazing explosions and shrapnel carved out a vacuum straight through the middle of the horde, severing the assault into two isolated halves!
At the same time, the two quad-mount antiaircraft guns on the rooftops began raking the entire perimeter.
A barrage of 20mm high-explosive shells poured down instantly, sweeping the battlefield clean from the frontline all the way to the rear. Flying shards of pulverized stone even rained down behind the players' barricades.
Only a scattered handful of crippled Crawlers and Tyrants remained in the ruins, alongside gnawers still squirming on the ground.
Crouching behind their forward defenses, the players stared at them with green light gleaming in their eyes, as if looking at low-health experience packs.
"Avenge Brother Spring!"
Someone shouted the rallying cry first, and countless voices quickly joined the chorus.
"Charge!"
"Ura!"
"Awoooo!"
The charge whistle blew.
Over five hundred players surged from behind their cover. Leveling bayonets and brandishing entrenching shovels, hand axes, and spiked clubs, they charged forward across the gravel scorched hot by gunpowder.
Using the most primal and direct methods, they impaled the mutants across the field, hacking them into mincemeat.
Black blood and fungal masses turned the ground into a sticky swamp. Watching the spectacle from the rooftop, Vannus, Viders, Kevin, and the other Legion captives were left utterly flabbergasted.
Kevin glanced at Viders and whispered softly.
"...Are they really Blue Jackets?"
Viders' Adam's apple bobbed.
"Maybe."
On the other side, the young officers of the guard were similarly stirred, their blood boiling as they watched, longing to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the shelter residents and fight alongside them.
Morale was not the only thing that was contagious.
So too was the will and resolve to fight.
Chu Guang tapped his helmet lightly and called out in a low voice.
"Xiao Qi."
That energetic voice piped up beside his ear.
"Here, Master!"
Chu Guang: "Did you film it?"
Xiao Qi: "Editing is already complete! Should I upload it now?"
Huh?
So proactive?
A pleased smile appeared on Chu Guang's face.
"Go ahead and upload it."
Recording the players' highlight moments in the game was an important part of the developer's job.
Besides, the captured footage could double as a promotional trailer.
Two joyful things combined—wasn't that double the happiness?
Once the battle drew to a close, Chu Guang had Wrench tally the casualties and ammunition consumption.
Thanks to the saturated firepower coverage before the clash, the players who charged in were mostly finishing off survivors. Consequently, aside from three light injuries consisting of sprained ankles, there wasn't even a single serious casualty.
Over 11,000 rounds of rifle ammunition had been expended, along with 66 rounds of 88mm mortar shells and 270 rounds of 20mm high-explosive ammunition. Although the steep cost stung, it was an expenditure that had to be made.
Steel and gunpowder had practically washed the entire street clean, and the carcasses of slain mutants were piled into small hills across the field.
Chu Guang suddenly recalled the report Heya had shown him earlier.
According to her research, in addition to organic matter, these slime mold fruiting bodies contained fairly high concentrations of sulfur, nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium.
At the thought, Chu Guang couldn't help but ponder.
"It would be great if we could put these corpses to use."
Not just as active biomass.
Even turning them into fertilizer would be worthwhile.
Leaving them to rot here ran the risk of the slime mold reclaiming and recycling them.
Unfortunately, mutant slime mold possessed a degree of toxicity. Burying its fruiting bodies directly in the soil wouldn't enhance fertility; instead, it would cause the root systems of crops to rot and succumb to disease.
Then it occurred to Chu Guang that Boulder City and Red River Town seemed to possess specialized techniques for producing nutrient paste, capable of squeezing paste even out of gnawers.
If they could process mutants into nutrient paste, wouldn't they be able to deactivate the slime mold while preserving its nutritional content?
If so, would pouring synthetic nutrient paste into the soil produce an effect similar to organic fertilizer...?
Except that brought about another question.
Nutrient paste was food to begin with...
Realizing the blind spot in his logic, Chu Guang sank into thought.
In that case, why not simply add nutrient paste directly to their diets?
While Chu Guang was pondering how to extract spoils beyond resurrection coins from these slime-mold-type mutants, several kilometers away in the dense fog, gnawers were dragging corpses one after another, hauling them into an abandoned skyscraper to nourish a growing incubation chamber.
The flesh-pink creep had taken on a dark crimson hue, spreading past the incubation chamber and blanketing the entire corridor.
Standing by the corridor window, a towering figure stood motionless, its crimson pupils staring fixedly at the cluster of high-rises to the north, the tentacles floating behind its head trembling faintly.
It was furious.
The cilia across the creep rippled, as though broadcasting waves of rage. The mutants gathered around it let out restless, uneasy growls.
Killing intent mounted in the thick mist.
Within that raspy, continuously repeated whisper, there was now a clear, violent wrath.
"...Purify..."
Chapter 269