62: Chapter 62 The Crisis of Indigenous Peoples

However, the shock in Su Mingyuan's eyes only lasted for three seconds.

There were no cheers on the battlefield either, only the rapid hiss of high-pressure gas, and the leading man didn't even glance at the corpse beneath his feet.

He just coldly shook his long blade, flinging a string of blood droplets, and immediately afterwards, white smoke burst from his waist as his entire body instantly rose from the ground and charged back into high altitude.

Almost at the same time, a huge foot came crashing down, fiercely stomping on the spot where he had just been standing.

Boom——!

The headless giant corpse had its chest cavity collapsed by this stomp, sending shattered bones and flesh and mud splashing everywhere.

The one that crushed it was another giant.

"These giants... They... don't care about the life or death of their companions at all."

Li Xiu watched this scene with furrowed brows, "Or rather, they don't have the concept of 'companions' at all."

The smell of blood instead acted like a potent stimulant.

The soaring smell of blood completely ignited the ferocious nature of the remaining giants on the wasteland.

The giants that were originally scattered around and slow in movement suddenly began to frantically gather towards the central area like sharks that smelled blood.

Ten, twelve, fifteen...

The huge shadows blocked the sunlight, forming an airtight wall of flesh that tightly trapped the dozen or so humans still flying in the air in the middle.

"Roar——!!"

That twenty-meter-class lord giant let out a deafening roar.

This time, the giants were no longer grabbing randomly.

They seemed to have learned something from the previous battle and started cooperating with each other.

Some giants were responsible for destroying ruined buildings to reduce the humans' foothold; other giants stood back-to-back, waving their long arms to block the movement trajectory in the air.

The situation changed drastically in an instant.

"Watch out on the left!"

Although he couldn't hear the sound, Su Mingyuan could read the fighter's despair from the terrified expression in the footage.

That fighter had just dodged the frontal grab, but the ruin cover behind him was suddenly shattered by a punch.

Amidst the flying gravel, he lost his anchor point, and his body experienced a momentary stagnation in the air.

It was just this momentary pause.

Slap.

A giant hand swept across the air, striking him squarely without any fancy tricks.

It was just like swatting down a flying insect.

Even across several kilometers, the people on the clock tower felt as if they could hear the sound of the bones shattering all over his body.

That fighter didn't even let out a scream, his entire body like a tattered blood bag, slammed fiercely onto the ground, turning into a pool of red and white matter indistinguishable from a human shape.

Immediately afterwards, the giant that slapped him to death grabbed the rotting flesh on the ground, threw it into its mouth with its head raised, and swallowed it without much chewing.

"Damn it."

Hawkeye's voice was as cold as iron, "They are starting to lose personnel again."

The originally tight "fishing net" instantly developed a gap because one person died.

The pressure on the remaining fighters doubled.

They had to fly faster and turn sharper.

However, living organisms have limits after all.

After more than twenty minutes of high-intensity maneuvering, even a man made of iron couldn't withstand that terrifying overload.

Su Mingyuan could clearly see that the movements of these fighters were beginning to deform.

The smooth, flowing silkiness from the beginning was gone.

Replaced by it was a heavy sense of struggling desperately for survival.

Someone was half a beat slow when turning in the air and was almost hooked by the giant's fingers; someone stumbled when landing and almost failed to take off again.

Sweat mixed with dust blurred their goggles.

Their physical stamina had been severely overdrawn.

"They are not going to make it."

Hawkeye still maintained the posture of holding his gun. Through the scope, he could see more clearly than anyone else:

"Their muscle reaction speed is declining. This intensity of omni-directional mobility squeezes cardiopulmonary function and core strength far too hard."

"At the current consumption rate, in ten minutes at most, they will be completely wiped out due to exhaustion."

"No."

Tao Zhe, who had been staring at the data terminal beside them, suddenly spoke.

His complexion was even uglier than before, and his brows were locked tightly together, as if he had discovered something even more terrifying than death.

"The worst part is not physical strength."

Tao Zhe pointed to the sets of decaying waveforms on the screen, his voice low and urgent:

"Pay attention to the reaction after the device's injection."

Hearing this, everyone looked over.

"In the beginning, the frequency of the steel cable shooting and retracting was extremely fast, completed almost instantly. But now..." Tao Zhe paused, his finger tracing a downward curve on the screen, "The speed of the steel cable retraction has slowed down."

"What does this mean?" Zhang Dabiao asked subconsciously.

"It means a drop in power." Tao Zhe said word by word, his tone revealing a cold rationality: "The energy in that square box is running out."

"That high mobility relies entirely on a powerful winch driven by energy to fight against gravity."

"Once the output power cannot keep up and fails to provide enough pulling force in an instant..."

Tao Zhe raised his head and stared fixedly at that battlefield: "They will lose speed. And in front of these monsters, losing speed means death."

Before he could finish speaking.

The cruel reality immediately verified his judgment.

At the edge of the battlefield, a young fighter responsible for diversion had just completed a lure maneuver.

He flew backward, his fingers skillfully pulling the trigger, attempting to shoot the steel cable towards the remains of an abandoned building fifty meters away to swing away with the momentum.

This was a standard avoidance maneuver.

In the previous twenty minutes, he had repeated it countless times.

He waited with full confidence for that familiar "pfft" sound, waiting for his body to be yanked out of danger by that huge pulling force.

However.

Hum...

There was no strong pulling sensation.

From inside that already overheated square box device came a weak mechanical idling sound.

The steel cable did shoot out, and the hook also caught the wall.

But the moment he pulled the retraction trigger, the energy-depleted winch simply could not provide enough torque to pull him up.

That fighter's pupils dilated instantly.

He pulled the trigger repeatedly in panic.

Click.

Click. Click.

That square box didn't make any response, leaving only the "click" sound like Death knocking on the door.

Gravity, this Law that they had briefly forgotten, took over everything once again at this moment.

Having lost the pulling traction, his body in mid-air instantly lost all kinetic energy, plummeting straight down like a heavy stone.

And right directly beneath him.

A bloody maw had long been waiting for a long time.

At this moment, for that falling human, the world had fallen silent.

The sound of the wind disappeared, the hustle and bustle of the battlefield receded, and only that growing giant mouth below occupied his entire vision.

The fishy stench hit him in the face.

He could even clearly see the shreds of meat hanging in the giant's teeth gaps, which were the remnants of his comrades.

He closed his eyes.

The knife in his hand had already slipped.

Having lost the traction of the steel cable, he had completely lost the qualification to struggle.

However.

At the top of the clock tower two kilometers away, Death did not intend to harvest his life at this time.

Or rather, another more dominant "Death" had intervened.