40: Chapter 40 The Strength of the Reincarnators

Afghanistan, the Kandahar mountains.

Inside the camp, the members of the Ten Rings were on high alert.

Not long ago, Tony Stark had escaped from their hands, and Raza, having suffered a huge loss, had armed the camp to the teeth.

RPGs and ammunition crates were piled in the corners, heavy machine guns were mounted on the rock walls, and autocannons were installed on the high watchtowers.

Inside the tent, Raza stood with his hands behind his back in front of a barely assembled Iron Man Armor, a smug grin on his face.

Although the craftsmanship was rough and the welds were messy, this was the Mark 1 armor that Tony Stark had forcibly welded together from scrap metal while trapped in the cave. It subverted traditional perception, and even Raza could tell that this Iron Man Armor could change the landscape of war.

"Stark can build this thing out of trash; he truly is the smartest person in the world." Raza grinned maliciously, his eyes filled with greed. "With this thing, that old fox Obadiah will continue to work with me."

Suddenly, a subordinate ran in: "Boss! Three groups of people have arrived outside, demanding we hand over the Iron Man Armor, or else they'll flatten the camp!"

Raza's heart tightened: "How many of them are there?"

"Thirteen... thirteen people."

"Huh?" Raza thought he had misheard. "13 people?"

"Yes."

Raza kicked out, sending the subordinate flying backward, where he fell face-first into the dirt.

"Trash! Why are you afraid of 13 people? We have more than 13 RPGs alone!"

"Pass on my order: chop these 13 arrogant idiots up and feed them to the dogs!"

Raza roared, grabbing an AK-47 from the corner, his eyes filled with malice.

Letting Tony escape was an accident, but surely he could handle 13 stragglers?

Even if they were the most elite Delta Force soldiers, in front of his hundreds of militants and dozens of RPGs, they would still have to kneel and beg for mercy!

Outside the camp, 13 figures leaned against the rocks, their postures relaxed.

They were not special forces, but 3 Reincarnator squads belonging to Obadiah's camp.

"Brother Wolf, why bother talking nonsense with the Ten Rings? We could just rush in, kill everyone, and then find the Mark 1 armor. Wouldn't that be easier?"

A man with a buzz cut and bulging muscles asked with a grin. His nickname was Bull, and he was toying with a modified energy dagger, his eyes full of eagerness.

The man called Brother Wolf went by the nickname Blood Claw. At this moment, he was leaning against a rock with a cigarette between his fingers, a cold smirk on his lips.

"What's the rush? Having that idiot Raza watch the Iron Man Armor for us saves us from searching blindly in the mountains."

"It's easier to have someone lead the way, and since they've gathered together, we can wipe them all out at once."

As they were speaking, the Reincarnator Iron Arm nearby suddenly looked up: "People are coming out."

The camp gate opened, and over a hundred militants swarmed out with guns in hand. Raza walked at the back, his face full of disdain.

Blood Claw grinned, his bones cracking.

In the next second, his entire body expanded, his muscles surged, his hands turned into sharp wolf claws, fangs were exposed, and he instantly transformed into a werewolf over two meters tall.

Before the Ten Rings members could fire, Blood Claw flashed forward, rushing to the front row of militants, and swung his sharp wolf claws fiercely.

With a squelch, the militant's body was sliced in half at the waist, blood spraying out.

Immediately after, Blood Claw leaned down, his bloody maw biting hard onto the head of another militant. With a crunch, the sound of a skull shattering was clearly audible, and brain matter mixed with blood dripped down the corners of his mouth—it was cruel to the extreme.

The other Reincarnators also attacked, showing no mercy.

Poison Woman flicked her finger lightly, and venom landed on a militant. A violent corrosive sound instantly came from inside his body, his skin rotted rapidly, and his scream was incredibly shrill; within just a few seconds, he turned into a puddle of pus.

"Mechanical Arm," whose body was covered in mechanical prosthetics, turned his arms into two small energy cannons and fired wildly. Bullets rained down like a storm, and the Ten Rings members fell in rows; even the sentries hiding behind rocks were killed on the spot as the energy projectiles penetrated their cover.

The members of the Ten Rings were harvested like wheat.

Someone fired, and the bullet hit Blood Claw, but he was completely fine; he turned back and bit off half of the gunman's body.

Someone threw a grenade, but it was kicked back by Iron Arm, exploding in their own pile.

The originally aggressive Ten Rings members, seeing this scene, had their arrogance instantly replaced by fear, and their will to fight completely collapsed.

They realized that what they were facing was not human at all, but a group of demons from hell!

Some threw away their weapons and turned to run, while others went weak at the knees and collapsed on the ground, shivering, muttering pleas for mercy, no longer having the arrogance they had just displayed.

There was no other way; those who didn't surrender had already become cold corpses, and they didn't want to follow in their footsteps.

In just three minutes, the battle was completely over.

There was no resistance, only a one-sided massacre.

The camp gate was littered with corpses, and blood flowed like a river.

The remaining dozen or so Ten Rings members knelt on the ground, shaking like chaff.

Raza was dragged in front of Blood Claw, his face pale.

He finally understood how ridiculously wrong he had been. These 13 people were not just stragglers; they were a group of monsters capable of easily flattening his camp!

He asked with a trembling voice: "Who... who are you?"

Blood Claw's body slowly shrank, returning to human form, though he was still covered in blood. He looked down at Raza with cold eyes: "When is Obadiah coming?"

Raza's mind buzzed: They aren't looking for me, they're looking for Obadiah!

"That old bastard, he's screwed me over!"

Raza roared in his heart, but dared not show the slightest bit of it on his face. The desire to survive overwhelmed everything, and he sold out his ally without hesitation: "Obadiah will be here tonight. I can help you! I'm familiar with this place; I'll lead you to ambush him!"

Mechanical Arm adjusted his glasses, his tone flat: "Keep him for now. When Obadiah arrives, it won't be too late to kill him then."

Raza had just breathed a sigh of relief, but upon hearing the second half of the sentence, his heart turned cold.

Just then, Iron Arm turned his head abruptly, the red light of his mechanical prosthetic eye flashing wildly.

"Someone is approaching!"

"Is it Obadiah? That shouldn't be right; I remember it was dark when he was supposed to come, and it's not even fully dark yet."

"No! The signal source is different, and the target is moving very fast, approaching us!"

"What are you afraid of?" Bull sneered disdainfully, patting his chest. "Even if they come, so what? With the 13 of us, dealing with hundreds of people is like a game."

Blood Claw also sneered and flexed his claws: "At most, it's US military fighter jets. No matter how many come, we'll kill them all."

"No!" Iron Arm's voice suddenly rose, the alarm of his mechanical eye beeping. "The number of targets is wrong! Dozens of signals just appeared all at once! No! Hundreds!"

"Their numbers are still increasing!"

Blood Claw's eyes narrowed, and he decisively ordered: "Strike first. Before they react, take them out!"

"Hmph, so they have a few more people, so what? This time, don't hold back any strength. Everyone, finish this quickly!"

"Fine."