153: Chapter 153 The Grim Reaper's Perfect Consumables

Less than twelve hours after Chen Feng's order was issued, an unmarked black transport plane landed at the heavily guarded secret base deep in the Colombian rainforest.

The hatch opened, and a figure dressed in full black combat gear, wearing a gas mask that revealed only a pair of cold red goggles, stepped down the gangway in silence, carrying a briefcase.

He was HUNK, Umbrella's Reaper.

Dr. Park, who had been waiting there for a long time, hurried forward to meet him, his face carrying a hint of uncontrollable excitement and fanaticism. His eyes were now a deep dark gold, the hallmark of a "Hive Queen."

"Mr. HUNK, welcome to my kingdom," Dr. Park said, spreading his arms wide, his tone filled with the pride of a master.

HUNK didn't even blink. His red goggles swept over Dr. Park as he spat out two words: "The goods."

His voice, processed through a voice changer, was dry, cold, and devoid of any emotion, sounding like metal grinding against metal.

Dr. Park didn't mind; he had long heard of this legendary agent's style. He made a "please" gesture, leading HUNK toward a massive elevator platform deep within the base.

"The Boss's plan, in my personal opinion, is a stroke of genius," Dr. Park couldn't help but say as the elevator descended. "Using living humans as hosts, simultaneously implanting two types of parasites, and then using a low concentration of T-Virus as a catalyst... it's simply art! They retain human combat instincts and the intelligence to use complex weaponry, while the Plaga Parasites erase all redundant emotions. Fear, pain, pity... none of it exists."

HUNK remained silent.

The elevator doors opened with a 'ding,' revealing a vast underground space that was staggering in scale.

Under countless spotlights, one thousand two hundred figures stood motionless on a massive parade ground in standard military posture, forming a perfect phalanx.

They were uniformly dressed in black combat gear, each expressionless with hollow eyes, like soulless puppets. Their only identification was the bright red 'B.O.W.' (Bio-Organic Weapon) armband on their right arms.

These were the 'soldiers' Chen Feng had spoken of, the final product of Dr. Park's ranch—the Small Tyrants.

HUNK stood at the edge of the high platform, overlooking the silent army below. His red goggles scanned back and forth across the phalanx, as if inspecting a batch of precision parts.

"Begin," HUNK finally spoke, his voice still devoid of emotion.

"Begin what?" Dr. Park blinked, startled.

HUNK pointed his finger toward a simulated assault fortress constructed of high-strength alloy and concrete at the other end of the parade ground. Several remote-controlled heavy machine gun barrels were already protruding from the fortress's firing ports.

"Live-fire exercise," HUNK said succinctly.

Dr. Park's pupils constricted slightly.

That wasn't an exercise; that was a massacre. The interlocking fields of fire from those machine guns were enough to tear any conventional unit to shreds. He thought HUNK was just here for an inspection, but he hadn't expected him to be so ruthless right from the start.

"The objective is the red beacon inside the fortress," HUNK added, as if speaking of a trivial matter. "Time limit: five minutes."

Looking into HUNK's cold red goggles, Dr. Park suddenly understood. This Reaper wasn't here to listen to a product presentation. He wanted to verify the quality of these 'consumables' with his own eyes in the most brutal way possible.

"As you wish." Dr. Park's smile turned crazed. Through the "Queen Seed" implanted in his own brain, he issued a hive command to the entire phalanx below.

[Objective: Fortress. Capture beacon. Execute.]

There was no pre-battle mobilization, no slogans.

The moment the command was issued, the first hundred 'soldiers' in the front row moved in unison. In standard three-man fire teams, they charged toward the fortress with assault rifles at the ready.

Their pace, spacing, and speed were as precise as a computer calculation, without the slightest deviation.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat—!

The moment they stepped into the open ground, the six heavy machine guns on the fortress opened fire simultaneously!

A searing metal storm instantly swept through the charging line.

Flesh and blood flew everywhere!

The 'soldiers' in the first row didn't even have time to fire a shot before they were riddled with bullets, their bodies torn apart and dismembered in the dense hail of fire.

But an eerie scene unfolded.

Not a single 'soldier' screamed, and not a single 'soldier' retreated or took cover. It was as if they couldn't feel pain or fear at all as they continued to maintain their charging formation.

The 'soldiers' following behind didn't pause for a second. They even actively grabbed the shattered corpses of their 'comrades' and held them up as temporary meat shields, continuing to push forward!

They trampled over the severed limbs of their own kind, bathed in a storm of blood. With hollow eyes and steady steps, they acted as if what lay ahead wasn't a death trap, but a smooth path to their destination.

On the high platform, Dr. Park felt a chill run down his spine as he watched this.

He had created these monsters, but this was his first time seeing them 'fight' like this. This was no longer an army; it was a swarm of suicide-bombing biological robots with tactical thinking.

HUNK's red goggles remained fixed on the battlefield.

Bang!

As one 'soldier' closed within fifty meters of the fortress, a 12.7mm round struck him in the chest. The massive kinetic energy shredded half of his torso.

But in the second before he collapsed, he used his last ounce of strength to toss his rifle to the comrade behind him, saving the other person a fraction of a second in reload time.

The comrade who caught the rifle didn't even look at him, continuing the charge.

The entire process was seamless, filled with a cold, extreme pragmatism.

"Three hundred meters... two hundred meters... one hundred meters..."

In less than two minutes, at the cost of nearly sixty 'lives,' the first wave finally reached the base of the fortress. They immediately and skillfully pulled high explosives from their backs and slapped them onto the alloy walls.

Boom!!

With a massive roar, a breach was blown into the fortress.

The 'soldiers' inside swarmed in, engaging in close-quarters combat with more automated turrets.

HUNK raised his wrist and glanced at his tactical watch.

Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

The last gunshot inside the fortress faded. A 'soldier' holding the red beacon walked out from the breach, only to be cut down by residual fire.

Mission accomplished.

Throughout the entire process, out of the 1,200-man phalanx, only the 100 who were deployed moved. The remaining 1,100 stood in place from start to finish, motionless. It was as if the bloody battle just now was merely a movie that had nothing to do with them.

HUNK slowly lowered his wrist.

He turned around to face the expectant Dr. Park.

Under those cold red goggles, a hint of something resembling appreciation surfaced for the first time.

"Very good," HUNK's voice was still dry. "Perfect consumables."

Hearing this evaluation, Dr. Park's face flushed with excitement. Hearing the word "perfect" from the mouth of this legendary Reaper was more exhilarating to him than the Boss handing out a ten-billion-dollar bonus.

"They have no fear, feel no pain, and offer absolute obedience. They can be sacrificed at any time for the mission objective. For a commander like you, they are the best soldiers, aren't they?"

HUNK didn't answer. Instead, he picked up his communicator and directly connected to Marcus, the head of security in Los Angeles.

"It's me."

"HUNK? How's the situation?"

"The men can be withdrawn," HUNK said flatly.

"Withdrawn? What do you mean? You just got there. I picked out the elite of the USS for you to help train the new unit..."

"No need," HUNK interrupted him. "I have better tools here."

With that, he hung up the communication.

Marcus was left on the other end of the line in shock. Better tools? What tools could be more useful than his battle-hardened USS elites?

On the platform, HUNK put away the communicator and said to Dr. Park, "I'll take this batch. When can they be deployed for actual combat?"

"Anytime!" Dr. Park guaranteed, patting his chest. "Their brains are pre-loaded with manuals for all modern weaponry and basic tactical coordination programs!"

HUNK nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. For a war machine like him who only pursued mission success rates, an army that could be sacrificed at will, required no consideration of morale, and posed no threat of betrayal was a gift from heaven.

Compared to these 'consumables,' human soldiers—who needed their emotions managed, casualties considered, and who might even question orders on the battlefield—were simply troublesome and inefficient inferior products.

Seeing HUNK's rare expression of satisfaction, Dr. Park smiled and dropped an even more impactful piece of information.

"Furthermore, Mr. HUNK, our daily output for these 'consumables' is three hundred."

HUNK's figure, which had been as still as a statue, suddenly stiffened.

He slowly turned his head, his red goggles locking onto Dr. Park.

"Daily?"

"Yes." The smile on Dr. Park's face grew more radiant, tinged with a hint of showing off. "As long as there's enough raw material, this production line can run 24 hours a day. Lose a hundred today, and by tomorrow morning, three hundred new units will be ready for replacement."

HUNK fell silent.

He looked down at the silent, hollow, infinitely renewable black phalanx below. For the first time, he felt a surge of... excitement from the bottom of his heart.

This would no longer be a war.

This would be a wave that consumes everything, launched by an inexhaustible Legion of Reapers.