This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 566.2: Bloody Battle In The Jungle

"Pi... do..."

The dull growl boomed like a ship’s horn. The giant gave him no time to think and swung the half headless corpse in a sweeping arc.

The speed was not slow in the least!

At that range, there was no dodging!

The blow landed full-on. Already covered in wounds, Garbage was flung away and slammed against a tree that nearly snapped.

If the green muscleheads had swarmed him then, even having three heads and six arms wouldn’t have saved him, but they seemed convinced he was dead already. Instead of rushing, they fell back and ceded him the center of a killing ground.

A low groan rattled in his throat. Garbage struggled to his feet, unsure whether the exoskeleton had failed, or his joints had.

At least three nameless bones were broken. His left arm was nearly numb. Though his Flesh Regeneration talent crept along, his body was already near its limit. That trickle of recovery was better than nothing, but it was still almost useless.

"Dammit... What a brutal hit!" He coughed and spat a mouthful of blood. He tried to lift a claw, and a warning flashed before his eyes.

[Warning! Drive joints damaged 85%. Recommend to disengage.]

"So damn noisy!"

Alarms flashed across his tactical visor. Seeing the giant mutant striding toward him, Garbage clenched his teeth, raked his right claw to the ring on the inside of his abdomen, hooked it, and yanked hard.

His chest and shoulder plates blew outward. The exoskeleton on his body flared like an opening umbrella and, as it scrapped itself, it completely freed his frame.

Seeing this, the giant mutant halted mid-step, a flicker of surprise crossing his dull eyes.

Garbage glanced at the wreckage at his feet. His heart ached, but he had no regrets. His fighting spirit did not flag as he leveled his blood-smeared claws at the freak. "Come on! Let’s..."

"Oooh! Rarhhh!"

Before he finished, a sudden furious roar cut him off. A dark shape vaulted into the air, landed behind the giant mutant, and hacked down with both axes.

"Roar!"

Two solid chops landed on his back. The giant Mutant Human bellowed in pain, flung the attacker away with a sweep of his right arm, then lurched and crashed to the side, his mountainlike body making the ground tremble.

The surrounding underlings stared, dumbstruck. They forgot to jeer and howl and simply stood rooted in place.

They had not expected another human to be alive, much less to jump into their battle to interfere.

"Brother Pubg?!" Garbage stared at the blood-soaked Midnight Pubg in surprise.

The man’s helmet was completely shattered. His chest plate was pitted and dented with bullet scars, and an appalling gash split his shoulder.

Around that rupture, the entire shoulder guard had caved in, as if chopped open by a heavy weapon like an axe.

Garbage could easily imagine it. A Mutant Human’s axe had likely knocked him cold and dumped him to the ground with a thud.

And the mutant had likely assumed him dead and, in a hurry to catch the spectacle here, had not bothered to finish him off.

"Help me!" Midnight Pubg shouted, tossed aside the broken logging axe in his hand, snatched up a club strung with blades and wire, and charged. He laid into the giant mutant’s face as the brute tried to rise.

"Ou!"

The blades curled and dulled under the beating. The giant Mutant Human roared in pain.

He had not even gotten up before his face took a merciless pounding. Nose and eyes mashed together into a sickening sheet of red.

Midnight Pubg gathered himself for the final blow, but a stabbing impact slammed into his flank. With a muffled grunt he went flying.

Oge had stepped into the fray and pulled the howling Pido out of trouble. He was lifting his weapon to finish the human when a lightning-fast dark blur flashed across his vision.

Oge dodged on instinct, only to see the claws were not coming for him at all—they were scything toward Pido, who was staggering back with his hands over his eyes.

"No!"

His face twisted.

Even though he reached to intervene, it was too late.

The twin claws raked in like a harrow, dug into Pido’s thick throat from left and right, and clamped down on his blood vessels, trachea, and spine.

Then the lizard heaved backward in a savage yank!

Rip!

The wet, sticky tear of sundered flesh rang out, horribly clear in the sudden silence of the field.

With most of his throat and spine torn away, Pido’s massive head lost all support and flopped back over his shoulder, only half a steel bar still jutting up grotesquely.

Blood fountained, spraying across the heart of the battlefield. The giant creature, as burly as a hill, slowly sank to his knees, kneecaps biting deep into the soil.

The silence was deathlike.

Dozens of green eyes stared at the man and the lizard at the center, at the falling Pido, and at their stupefied leader.

"20..."

Garbage glanced at the collapsed Midnight Pubg and gave a crooked grin. "Sorry, brother. I called dibs on that head."

Midnight Pubg rolled his eyes, panting. "I only got 16... You win."

Counting when he first open fired, maybe his tally reached 20 or even 30.

But those Mutant Humans recovered too well. He could not be sure how many stayed dead. He would have to check the drone footage after logging off.

Of course, there was one thing he knew. The ones he had beheaded would not be getting up.

Then someone screamed. The ring of mutants rushed as one and hacked Garbage into eight neat chunks, pounding him to mince on the spot.

Seeing Garbage gloriously log off, Midnight Pubg also meant to disconnect. But then he saw the cyborg-modified mutant boss walking toward him.

Being taken alive would waste time.

He paused his logoff to see what the brute intended.

At the very least, he had to find a way to make the brute kill him.

He raised a hand to stop the warriors about to carve the human to pieces. The ugly mutant leader stepped up and looked down from above.

"Name?"

"Heh..." Midnight Pubg curled his lip and spat a bloody gob on the brute’s leg. "I’m your daddy."

Wait for it.

"I’ll be back."

Oge’s expression cooled. He clamped the human’s skull in a pincer-like right hand and his fingers suddenly squeezed.

Midnight Pubg stared at him without moving. A taunting look was plastered to his face.

That all you got?

Staring into those eyes, Oge snapped. With a crack, his thumb and forefinger dug into the temples and wrenched the orbital bones free, pulling a chunk of skull and flesh in one brutal rip.

The man never made a sound, even to his last breath. He kept staring at Oge with a look of mockery.

Crushing the eye and bone in his palm, Oge’s face stayed blank, but inside he seethed with shock and fury.

What was with these human creatures?

He suddenly regretted letting anger goad him. He should have taken the man alive—hauled him back and worked him over with the tribe’s tortures. He would have gotten something out of him.

Now all he had was a white lump of brain and a handful of slime...

A sentry in animal hides came puffing up, dropped to one knee before him. "Oge!"

Oge looked at him coldly. "Speak."

Under that icy gaze, the mutant sentry’s shoulders quivered. He mumbled out his report in a rush. "There are no two-leg livestock in the town, none on four legs either. The residents are gone, the houses are empty, and the Torch Church’s Prophet, sir, we didn’t find him..."

Before he finished, a wounded captain approached, bent at the waist, and bowed. "Oge... We lost 220. There are 50 severely wounded. Of them, we lost a captain, Pido, and five vehicles."

“GRAHHHHH!” Oge threw back his head and roared, unable to contain his rage.

Never had he been so humiliated!

Bringing out 500 brothers, more than 200 of them were cut down by a couple dozen humans!

Worse, the human in exoframe who had killed his elder brother had never shown up from start to finish!

He could already see the mocking faces in the tribe.

The trees around him rustled as the whole forest seemed to tremble with his wrath.

Veins bulged on his neck.

He snapped an order at the kneeling sentry. "Burn the village! Leave not a single house!"

"Yes!" The sentry scrambled up and trotted off.

Still not appeased, Oge turned a murderous glare on the centurion before him, panting. "The nearest village... Where?"

"Hope Town," the captain rumbled. "30 kilometers east."

"Come with me!" Oge looked around at the underlings and bellowed again. "Flatten them! Make those two-legged livestock cry and scream as they run! Tell them who owns this place!"

Yes, that was Torch Church’s territory, and the tribe’s human pen. However, Oge was furious.

With so many brothers dead, he had to bring back at least 400 heads! Only then would the others shut up and the great chief be satisfied!

He would kill until he had enough!

No one could talk him down!

"And the bodies?" The captain looked to his leader, eyes bright with expectation.

Those were not the same as the two-legs who only knew how to run, their taste had to be different!

He drooled.

His leader did not disappoint.

"Keep the heads. Cook the rest! Oge eats his fill before he goes to chop heads!" Oge shouted, and the Mutant Humans around him cheered in excitement.

"Aoo, aoo, aoo!"

Dust Town went up in flames, thick smoke rolling skyward.

Unfortunately, the residents had already fled. There would be no banquet atop a mountain of corpses.

A mob of mutants huffed and puffed to the trucks, took down the big pots and cook gear tied to the racks, and made fires shamelessly at the forest’s edge.

The cauldron bubbled and burbled. Savage heads jabbered and chattered, their incomprehensible chant soaked with an indescribable chill.

It smelled like congealed blood.

At that moment, the feasting green-skins did not notice that, on a hillside not far away, a pair of dark-green eyes watched them in silence, then slipped back into the shadowy trees without a sound, as if they had never been there at all...