This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 561.1: Battle In The Night

Bang!

The sudden gunshot shattered the silence of the night, and the once-quiet street boiled over like a pot of water brought to a rolling boil.

Ratatatata...

Orange-yellow tracers streaked wantonly across the night sky, and the continuous gunfire crackled like strings of firecrackers, catching the Mutant Humans in the compound completely off guard.

That was only the start.

The Mutant Humans seemed long accustomed to such sudden ambushes.

They dragged their fallen companions behind cover, then snatched up weapons and roared as they launched a counterattack toward the direction of the gunfire.

Night Ten quickly glanced at the map, matching the area where the shots had rung out.

He was certain there were no allies in the area.

Almost at the exact moment the gunfire burst out, noisy voices came through the comms channel.

"Holy shit, who fired?!"

"Night Ten, did you do it?!"

Hearing them mention him, Night Ten couldn’t hold back his curse. "You dumbasses hear the sound of a railgun?"

These bastards!

They’re still making fun of me at a time like this...

"Quiet! That’s not our gunfire!" At a critical moment, Old White was the reliable one, quickly cutting off the argument in the open communication channel.

Listening carefully, that first shot indeed wasn’t from an LD-47. After playing this game for so long, he could still distinguish gun sounds.

But in the crackling gunfire that followed, a few shots were very clearly from an LD-47.

Perhaps because they couldn’t handle the recoil of full-power rounds, those shots were short bursts. Only two or three rounds were fired in each burst.

Night Ten immediately came to a conclusion.

These guys are using knock-off equipment!

Although he couldn’t determine just from gunfire whether they were elite monsters or not, he could at least tell they weren’t rich.

Mercenaries, maybe?

As he thought about it, Ample Time’s voice came through the channel. From the gunfire leaking into his mic, Team 2 had to be very close to the firefight.

"... Contact on North Street 13. Someone else is eyeing this place besides us."

As he reported, a set of photos were uploaded to the team’s VMs.

Though the streets were cloaked in darkness, the muzzle flashes made it possible to roughly make out the silhouettes of the group.

There were about 10 of them, all in mismatched civilian clothes, wielding weapons of all different types. There was no way to determine their faction by gear.

But they all bore a common mark. They had armbands wrapped around their left arms. On them was drawn what looked like an elongated arrow, which when zoomed in appeared more like a transmission or signal tower.

Finally, news came from Gale. "A tribe nearby has sent reinforcements. The terrain is complex and it’s hard to judge their numbers, but I can see 12 modified armored vehicles."

Night Ten was startled. "Armored vehicles?!"

Gale continued, "Just the kind with welded steel plates... But some strange-looking weapons on top caught my eye. These Mutant Humans might not be the same as the ones we’ve met before."

Old White asked, "How long till they arrive?"

"Within three minutes."

After a brief pause in the channel, Old White made a decisive call. "We need to figure out who they are. Best if we can take two of them alive."

The sudden strike by the unknown force was clearly a feint. They had no intention of capturing the mutant-held research facility.

That much was easy to tell.

Guerrilla raids and siege assaults differed in both tactics and scale. Just from the intensity and distribution of the gunfire, he could tell that those people already had escape routes planned when they launched the attack.

It was obvious this wasn’t their first time harassing the Mutant Humans there.

If those NPCs were like the resistance groups of West Continent Municipality, survivors rising up under the oppression of Mutant Humans and the Torch Church...

They might be allies.

Ample Time’s voice rang through their communication channel. "Leave it to me... This bunch near me is probably screwed anyway. I should be able to save one or two."

Old White continued, "Night Ten, support him. Team 1, Team 3, Team 4, fall back. This area will be handled by Team 2 and our recon team."

A chorus of voices answered crisply through the channel.

"Roger!"

In the darkness, a team of soldiers in exoskeletons began to move. Ample Time, with three teammates, closed in on the guerrillas from behind.

The Mutant Humans had clearly also set their sights on them.

The green-skinned creatures knew they couldn’t catch every rat, so they concentrated their efforts on trapping the loudest ones.

The guerrillas also seemed to realize what was happening, pulling back their lines, but they were facing not ordinary soldiers, rather Mutant Humans who weren’t afraid of death.

These green-skin monsters were like cancer cells. Even if half their body was blasted off, they still lived. Unless their heads were destroyed, a few bullet wounds meant little to them.

To avoid giving themselves away, the Viper transport plane parked on a skyscraper withdrew first, flying to a rear evacuation point.

Night Ten lay back down at the edge of the building.

He skillfully unfolded the bipod of his Model 15 Python Gauss sniper rifle and adjusted the scope into thermal mode.

Staring into it, everything turned black and white other than a few spots.

One by one, the white glowing points hidden in the dark revealed the positions of both sides.

"Do you see your three o’clock?" Comparing the tactical map markers on his visor, Night Ten quickly found the spot Ample Time referred to.

A squad of Mutant Humans was moving rapidly through a half-collapsed building, apparently intending to flank the guerrillas and set up a firing position.

As he watched one mutant sling a machine gun onto the broken window ledge and spread its tripod, a flash of surprise lit Night Ten’s eyes.

Well damn!

These Mutant Humans knew battle tactics?!

With no time to hesitate, he replied at once through the channel. "Got eyes on them... They are a 10-man squad and they’re setting up a machine gun."

Ample Time’s voice rang in his head the next moment. "Take them out!"

"Roger!" As his reply came, Night Ten squeezed the trigger.

An arc of electricity flared in the chamber, the recoil pushing evenly into his shoulder plate, like he had just hurled a javelin.

At that exact moment, hundreds of meters away, the mutant holding the machine gun had its head burst open like a melon struck by a hammer, spraying red and white everywhere.

"One!"

Against unarmored soft targets, there was no need to charge the capacitor. A headshot was enough.

Night Ten, after felling one, didn’t pause. He immediately aimed at the next, the Mutant Human rushing to take over the gun.

"Two!"

The trigger clicked, and another head exploded into fragments.

With two of their fighters’ skulls blown apart, the remaining eight Mutant Humans panicked, shouting wildly in their strange language, no longer daring to touch the machine gun at the window.

When no heads showed for a while, Night Ten exhaled slowly, lips curling in a faint smile. "Machine gun nest suppressed!"

Ample Time’s voice came again. "Nice shot! Keep them pinned down and leave the rest to me!"

Drone footage projected onto the tactical visor showed Ample Time’s team successfully intercepting the Mutant Humans trying to flank the guerrillas.

These things were definitely different from Mutant Humans they had encountered before.

Their tactics weren’t sophisticated. It was simple, crude, lacking finesse, but paired with their tough physiques, it worked well enough.

A piercing whine fell from the sky, and flames shot up where the mutant convoy was moving.

That was Gale’s handiwork.

Judging by the blast, it was clearly the Switchblade drone that had shone during the battle of West Continent Municipality. It could flip a Conqueror 10 tank. Blowing up a modified truck was nothing.

The sudden explosion blocked the convoy in the street, buying the guerrillas some time to retreat.

They had clearly noticed their unexpected allies and were trying to link up with Ample Time’s team.

"Roger!" With that short reply, Night Ten kept his eyes fixed on the thermal scope, watching the machine gun, waiting for another head to appear. But no third target came.

Through the broken doorway he saw faint heat signatures. He knew those Mutant Humans hadn’t left. They just hunkered down. They probably never imagined their heavy breathing itself was a heat source, traced out clearly in his lens.

Rubbing his trigger finger, Night Ten grew impatient.

To be honest, after all the hours he had put into this game, that was the first time he had seen such cowardly Mutant Humans. Two dead and they cowered behind cover.

A wicked grin tugged at his lips. "Like hiding behind cover, huh?"

Perfect time to test out his new gear.

Earlier in the Sunset Province, he thought his Gauss rifle’s range and armor-piercing power would shine, but it had been a letdown.

The terrain was too wide and engagements stretched beyond his range. Tanks, planes, and artillery took the long-range work. He never had a chance to play with his sniper rifle.

Now, there was no need for him to hesitate. Night Ten pulled a long nail-shaped round from his pack.

That was an armor-piercing shell made for concrete bunkers, perfect for punishing those who never showed their heads.

He loaded it, pressed the capacitor’s charge switch, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

Electricity surged from the battery into the high-energy capacitor, superheated plasma roiling in the chamber, then unleashed the instant he released the trigger.

A sharp crack erupted, hot air bursting from the barrel, rippling the air as the mass projectile punched through the sound barrier!

The round streaked across the night like a glowing comet, blasting into the dark window, shattering the entire wall.

The recoil made his shoulder plate shudder slightly. Watching the glowing bodies through the thermal scope, Night Ten couldn’t suppress a proud grin.

"Three!"

The power of the Gauss Sniper rifle was no exaggeration. It destroyed both wall and target.

It was a bit of a waste, sure, but damn it felt good!

That shot left the Mutant Humans dazed. They never expected the guerrillas who messed with them daily to have such firepower.

Even from hundreds of meters away, Night Ten couldn’t hear their chatter, but it was clear they were spooked, bolting downstairs instead of cowering behind the wall.

"Too weak!"

But just as he was savoring it, a cold warning crept up his spine, raising every hair on his body.

Something had locked onto him!

He could faintly sense its presence, but not its exact direction.

One thing was certain: it had been watching him for some time, maybe since his first shot.

Only then had it entered his perception range...

This is a strong one...

Alertness surged through him and Night Ten dared not be careless. He immediately stowed his rifle from the building’s edge, retreating to the stairwell entrance, while shouting into his communication channel.

"I think something’s hunting me!"