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墨書 Inktalez
The battle was on the verge of erupting. Zheng Yifan raised his Machine Gun, ready to attack at any moment, showcasing his formidable combat prowess. The opponents across from him were already preparing to fire first; they could hardly contain their impatience. Zheng Yifan's words had struck at the core of their desires.
Devil's Blood was something they were determined to obtain. As for the Zombies in the city—please, there were billions of them, and many were incredibly powerful. Some Zombies alone could wipe them out. Moreover, with so many of them, even if they kept shooting, their hands would eventually grow weary.
The moment Zheng Yifan lifted his Machine Gun, the opponents began pulling their triggers. The deafening sound of bullets firing sent chills down spines, and shells ricocheted off the ground—remnants of the bullets that had just been fired.
Zheng Yifan calmly squeezed the trigger, disregarding the incoming bullets entirely. A surge of powerful Vital Energy erupted in front of him, forming a barrier that intercepted the bullets mid-air, rendering them harmless. The battle seemed to reach a conclusion at that moment; it appeared that Zheng Yifan would inevitably perish under this storm of gunfire. Hundreds of Submachine Guns emerged simultaneously, their three-stage design ensuring rapid fire and pinpoint accuracy. Although they had few opportunities to shoot, each shot was a life-or-death struggle. Those with poor shooting skills had already perished; those with weak wills had also fallen; even those with bad luck had met their end.
The remaining fighters were elite among elites, capable of hitting any target they aimed at. However, the scene unfolding before them was clearly unacceptable; everyone took cover and dared not emerge until the enemy's bullets ceased, waiting for a chance to rush out again. Zheng Yifan had drawn too much hatred; his earlier words had infuriated them.
Yet none of the shots found their mark, as if an odd protective membrane caused all the bullets to veer off course.
Indeed, the Vital Energy in front of Zheng Yifan formed a conical shield that spun rapidly, deflecting bullets right from the start.
In contrast, Zheng Yifan's bullets faced no such hindrance. The rapidly spinning mechanism propelled wild bullets forward. No one could survive this onslaught.
In such a confined space, with such rapid-fire attacks from a Machine Gun, no one could withstand it.
The torrent of bullets surged like a flood of steel sweeping toward the enemy. The bullets were merciless; there were no intact bodies left among them—only shredded remains scattered across the ground. Blood flowed like rivers as hundreds bled out on the floor, leaving only that Old Tortoise alive; he had hidden away at the first sign of danger.
Zheng Yifan's Machine Gun penetrated walls but still failed to harm him. That old fellow had somehow constructed a wall made entirely of safes—likely sourced from some safe company—and used it as a barrier against bullets.
After all, they had no idea which ruthless individual might bring grenades or a Rocket Launcher to eliminate them.
So it was wise to be prepared; now it proved invaluable.
As Zheng Yifan launched his attack, a resigned sigh escaped Old Tortoise.
"Alas! I didn't want to use this move, but you've gone too far, to the point where I can no longer hold back." Old Tortoise looked at his hands, feeling as miserable as one could be. His body gradually emitted a green gas that slowly spread through the air.
However, this was not ordinary poison; it was a nerve gas capable of controlling a person's entire nervous system, effectively allowing him to manipulate others.
During their earlier conversation, he had been releasing this gas, and in fact, everyone in the room was already nearly under his control. Yet he had refrained from wasting his power.
Unlike others, whose Vital Energy could gradually recover, his strength had to be completely stripped from his own nerve energy. In other words, fighting meant damaging his own body, which would then take a long time to heal.
This kind of trade was clearly a losing proposition.
When the green gas finally filled the room, something seemed to activate within it. Red and green gases swirled together in mid-air and rapidly surged toward Zheng Yifan.
This was Old Tortoise's strongest technique; he had never missed when using it before.
However, Zheng Yifan clearly intended to teach him a lesson. Behind him were no signs of Leader and the others; everyone had hidden away, waiting for the shooting to end. The room was filled with the sound of bullets raining down, drowning out everything else.
Only Superpowered Individuals could discern other voices amidst such chaos.
Evidently intrigued by Old Tortoise's Superpower, Zheng Yifan realized that this ability could be humanity's worst enemy. It was useless against Zombies and only served to harm one's own allies. The existence of such a Superpower in the world was simply unimaginable.
Yet Zheng Yifan soon found himself unconcerned; who cared about a dead man?
The Adamantium Shield reappeared. In just a fleeting moment, the battle could come to an end. Bullets couldn't curve, but the Adamantium Shield could change direction and even seek out its target for an attack.
Old Tortoise may be a Superpowered Individual, but his close combat skills must be terrible; otherwise, he wouldn't fear bullets.
"Come out! Everyone is dead." As Zheng Yifan put away the Adamantium Shield, the battle ended, and he began to call the others in.
The entire room was devoid of life.
No! Perhaps the girl tied up in that room was still alive! She might have already bled to death.
Zheng Yifan slowly walked over. At this point, it didn't matter whether he arrived early or late; after being tormented by someone like Old Tortoise, the girl must have already begun to contemplate death.
After Zheng Yifan had taken several dozen steps and was nearing Old Tortoise's lair, the Leader and the others cautiously peeked out from behind their cover. They had seen that Zheng Yifan was unharmed and had taken a step forward, but then they could see nothing more.
No one dared to stick their heads out, let alone take a look. The sound of gunfire felt like a harbinger of death.
"Come out! It's safe now!" The Leader waved his hand slightly, and those behind him finally stepped out, albeit hesitantly.
What followed was a wave of nausea. They had seen dead bodies before—many of them—but never anything as horrific as this. Even those consumed by Zombies were devoured completely; nothing like the scene before them, where the ground was littered with dismembered flesh, not a single intact corpse in sight.
Perhaps… there was still a body behind the wall—that of Old Tortoise. (To be continued)
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