43: Chapter 43: First Encounter, Biological Legion's Debut
The chewing gum in Colonel Mike's mouth fell onto the armor plating.
His pride and joy, the M1A2 Abrams Main Battle Tank, actually appeared somewhat... petite in front of this five-meter-tall steel monster?
It wasn't just physical suppression; it was a form of fear originating from the hierarchy of life itself.
Within the gaps of the monster's chest plate, grayish-white muscles pulsed rhythmically. The cooling grilles on its back spewed scorching steam, and beneath that heavy layer of armor, it felt as if a Vicious Beast from the primordial era lay in wait.
"What... what the hell is this thing?"
Mike's voice trembled, but he was a battle-hardened professional soldier after all. Fear lasted only a second before being replaced by survival instinct.
"Fire! Don't just stand there! It's just a giant target!"
He pounded the turret frantically. "Armor-piercing rounds! Blow it to pieces!"
Boom—!
The 120mm smoothbore gun let out a roar.
A blinding fireball erupted from the muzzle. The sabot armor-piercing round, with a muzzle velocity of 1,600 meters per second and a scream that tore through the air, slammed hard into the bio-mecha's chest.
At such close range, let alone a mecha, even the side armor of an aircraft carrier would be punched straight through.
Chen Yuan stood on the high platform, not even blinking.
Clang!
A tooth-aching sound of metal clashing echoed across the wasteland.
Sparks flew in all directions as dust billowed.
Mike stared fixedly at the figure shrouded in smoke, his palms drenched in sweat. "Did we hit it? Is it dead?"
The dust cleared.
That massive black shadow still stood tall.
On that thick chest armor, only a shallow dent and a patch of scorched marks remained. Beneath the armor, the biological muscles seemed stimulated, writhing frantically and instantly secreting a viscous liquid that rapidly filled and hardened the damaged area.
"So this is the energy shield of the type-z ore?"
Chen Yuan watched the scene and nodded with satisfaction. "It seems I can call myself 'Absolute Defense' from now on."
Inside the mecha, Dr. Zola's fanatical voice came through the loudspeaker, accompanied by the static of electrical interference:
"Pain! Too much pain! My baby says it's very angry!"
"It wants to... eat meat!"
Roar—!!!
The bio-mecha suddenly roared at the sky. The sound didn't resemble machinery, but rather the howl of some great beast.
It moved.
Its five-meter-tall, massive frame actually erupted with the speed of a cheetah. Heavy mechanical feet crushed the rocks, every step triggering a miniature earthquake.
It didn't use the six-barreled autocannon on its left arm, but instead raised high the three-meter-long Chainsword on its right arm.
Vrrr—
The chainsaw spun at high speed, emitting a piercing buzz.
"Reverse! Reverse quickly!"
Mike was scared out of his wits, Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, as he kicked the driver's back desperately.
But how could this sixty-ton main battle tank compete in starting speed with a mecha enhanced by biological tendons?
In the blink of an eye, the massive shadow had already loomed over the tank's turret.
"In your next life, remember not to mess with a medicine seller."
Dr. Zola cackled, manipulating the mecha to swing its right arm down violently.
Screech—Crack!
It was a sound that made one's scalp tingle, like a hot knife slicing through frozen butter.
The high-speed rotating titanium alloy Chainsword, carrying peerless kinetic energy, sliced directly into the tank's frontal armor. Sparks erupted like a fountain, illuminating the pitch-black wasteland.
There was no resistance.
Under everyone's horrified gaze, the M1A2, known as the 'King of Land Warfare,' was actually sliced in two... right through the middle of the turret!
Boom!
The ammunition rack was detonated.
The massive explosion flipped the tank wreckage, turning it into a heap of burning scrap metal. Colonel Mike didn't even have time to scream before he was vaporized in the high temperature.
A one-hit kill.
The entire battlefield fell into a deathly silence.
The infantry fighting vehicles following the tank and the over one hundred fully armed mercenaries were all dumbfounded. The M4 rifles and RPGs in their hands seemed as laughably useless as fire sticks in the face of this tank-dismantling monster.
"Is this... what the Boss meant by 'loosening the soil'?"
Victor leaned over the railing, feeling his worldview being reshaped. "This isn't loosening the soil; this is performing a C-section on the Earth!"
Chen Yuan straightened his wind-blown hair, pulled an exquisite remote control from his pocket, and pressed the red button.
"The appetizer is finished. Time for the main course."
He spoke into the microphone, his tone as gentle as a devil's whisper:
"All forces, advance."
"Leave none alive."
Click, click, click—
Several container doors around the mining area opened simultaneously.
Five hundred T-103 Mass-Produced Tyrants marched out with synchronized steps. They didn't charge; instead, they formed neat lines, the squad machine guns in their hands creating a dense crossfire network.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
A metal storm swept across the entire wasteland.
The dazed mercenaries were instantly mowed down in swaths, their screams rising one after another.
"Retreat! Retreat quickly! It's a trap!"
The remaining infantry fighting vehicles tried to turn around and flee, but they soon discovered their retreat path had been blocked.
In the darkness, dozens of red figures were perched on rocks and abandoned oil drums. These were the Lickers that had been lying in ambush.
They didn't use guns; instead, they pounced into the crowd from the flanks like harvesters reaping wheat.
Sharp claws tore through body armor, and long tongues pierced through skulls.
This wasn't a battle at all.
It was a meticulously planned, cruel crushing of the human psychological defenses.
"Ah! Stay away! What kind of monsters are these!"
"Help! My leg! My leg is gone!"
"Devils! They are devils!"
Ten minutes.
In just ten minutes, the gunfire grew sparse.
Over a hundred well-trained rebels, along with their heavy equipment, had all become fertilizer for this wasteland.
The air was thick with the smell of blood and char, mixed with the pungent scent of oil, forming a unique scent of victory that belonged to Chen Yuan.
The bio-mecha slowly came to a halt, the cooling grilles on its back emitting white steam, as if a giant beast that had just finished its meal was letting out a satisfied burp.
Chen Yuan stepped down from the high platform, treading over the shell casings and blood covering the ground as he walked toward the still-burning tank wreckage.
He stopped before the severed turret, looking at the charred corpse inside and shaking his head.
"I told you, this place is short on fertilizer."
He took a handkerchief from his pocket, covered his nose and mouth, and then looked up at the sky.
A few hundred meters above the mining area, a miniature military drone was circling. It was the observation post for the 'Black Ops' squad, or perhaps the eyes sent by some power that had been watching from the shadows.
Chen Yuan knew they were watching.
And he was doing this precisely for them to see.
He stepped onto the tank's treads, climbing the pile of scrap metal step by step until he stood amidst the raging flames and scattered corpses.
The night wind whipped his trench coat, making it snap loudly.
Chen Yuan looked up, his pitch-black eyes staring directly into the drone's lens. There was no fear or evasion in his gaze, only a chilling arrogance and insolence.
Then.
He slowly raised his right hand and extended a long middle finger toward the camera.
"Seen enough?"
His voice traveled clearly through the drone's audio equipment to a secret command room thousands of kilometers away:
"Tell your masters."
"This land belongs to Chen."
"If you don't want to die, then get lost."