Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Almost at the same time Dean finished speaking, the huge ribs at the bottom of the pit suddenly moved!
Instead of the entire skeleton standing up, dozens of dark purple tentacles, resembling thick earthworms, suddenly emerged from the gaps between the ribs.

The surface of the tentacles is covered with suction cups and constantly opening and closing mouthparts, inside which are layers of sharp teeth.

"It's a Hellworm, fire!" Dean roared, pulling the trigger first.

Bang bang bang!
The specially designed bullet struck the tentacle, causing it to explode into clusters of blood that mixed with the effects of burning and sulfur corrosion.

Several tentacles were severed, spurting foul-smelling purple fluid from the broken ends, but more tentacles emerged from the ground, and the bottom of the pit began to collapse.

What lies below is not solid soil at all, but rather hollow; it is an underground nest dug out by these creatures!

"Josh, lead three squads to flank them from the left and use flamethrowers to block their retreat," Dean commanded while changing magazines. "Glasses, I need to exploit the weaknesses of these things."

"Hell worms are gregarious demonic creatures that are afraid of light and high temperatures. They have thick skin, are fond of carrion, and primarily sense vibration and heat," the bespectacled man quickly shouted. "Their nerve center is in the middle of their body, but you need an armor-piercing bullet to penetrate their skin."

"Did you hear that? Armor-piercing rounds! Flamethrowers, maintain suppression!"

The battle quickly escalated to a fever pitch.

More and more planarians are emerging from the ground, roughly estimated to be at least thirty, each about the thickness of a bucket and three to four meters long. They seem to be disturbed by the vibrations from the construction and are now in a frenzy.

A planarian broke through the barrage of fire, suddenly wrapped around a witcher's leg, and dragged him down.

"Help me--!"

Dean's eyes narrowed, and his angelic power erupted. The white light fiercely wrapped around the middle of the vortex worm, forcibly pulling it out of the ground and then twisting it in mid-air.

Black bodily fluids and fragments of internal organs fell like rain.

"Keep formation, don't let them break through one by one!" Dean shot and blew out the mouthparts of another planarian that was trying to sneak up, the sticky liquid splashing all over him. "Damn, this smells worse than sulfur."

Ten minutes later, the last planarian curled up, carbonized, and stopped wriggling in the flames of the flamethrower.

The battlefield was filled with the stench of burning and a pungent odor similar to ammonia.

The demon hunters, panting heavily, checked for casualties. Fortunately, only three people were slightly injured. One of them had accidentally slipped and fallen into a surface nest while relocating, twisting his ankle.

No one was killed in the entire battle, making it a clean and decisive skirmish.

"Check the ammunition, medical team treat the wounded." Dean wiped his face and looked at the pit that had collapsed into a large hole. "Glasses, take the exploration team down to see how big it is down there. Bobby, contact Lorre, report the situation, and request more flamethrowers and armor-piercing rounds. I estimate there's more than just this one pit down there."

Bobby put down his hand that had been rubbing his lower back. He was getting old after all, even though he had used enhancement drugs to restore his physical condition to that of middle age.

It might be enough for ordinary people, but for this kind of inhuman high-intensity combat, it still feels a bit inadequate.

There are still about two weeks until his next injection of the enhancement drug.

"I wish I were 20 years younger!" Bobby thought to himself.

Hearing Dean's words, he nodded, turned on his communicator, and the signal was relayed through a signal tower under construction, connecting to the command center in the real world a few seconds later.

"Hell's defenses were attacked by underground creatures. The attack has been resolved with no serious casualties, but a large-scale nest system may have been discovered underground. We request reinforcements and specialized equipment."

Wu Heng's voice came through the somewhat noisy channel: "Received, the support team is preparing. We will pass through the Gates of Hell in three hours."

"Furthermore, after analyzing your battle data, 'Internet Addiction' discovered that the energy signatures of those planarians showed signs of being guided. It's possible that they weren't disturbed naturally, but rather deliberately driven there by something."

Dean and Bobby's faces both darkened. "So, we've been tested?" Dean asked.

"In most cases, we will maintain the highest level of alert and wait for reinforcements to arrive before continuing construction. The signal tower can be put on hold for now, and we should first consolidate the defense line."

"clear."

Communication ends.

Dean looked at the dark cave entrance, then at the demon hunters around him, who, though exhausted, had determined eyes.

“Did you hear that? Those bastards are testing us.” He raised his voice. “Then we’ll let them know that testing comes at a price. Everyone, check your equipment, reinforce the bunkers, flamethrower teams take turns watching all the ground holes. Reinforcements will arrive in three hours.”

The witchers responded in unison.

In the distance, in the hellish, eternal night sky, dark red clouds slowly swirl, like a giant eye coldly watching this suddenly appearing human settlement.

At the horizon, more shadowy figures are gathering on the Blood Plains.

Three hours later.

In the real world, at the center of the land of balance, before the gates of hell.

Two hundred fully armed witchers stood in neat rows.

They wore the latest model of protective suits, with boot soles thickened to eight centimeters, masks equipped with filtering systems and night vision capabilities, and weapons including conventional firearms as well as equipment specifically designed for the hellish environment.

This includes: a back-mounted flamethrower, a sonic oscillator, and a glove-type balancing force field generator.

Wu Heng stood at the front of the team, without giving a long speech, and simply said: "The Hell Defense Line needs you."

"There are three tasks: First, strengthen the defenses; second, eliminate the threats; and third, establish a foothold. Remember, you are not going to your deaths, but to expand, to carve out a piece of land for humanity in hell."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Now, let's go."

Under controlled manipulation, the magma shell of the Gates of Hell slowly opened a crack, revealing a deep passage behind it. The demon hunters entered in groups of five, in an orderly fashion.

The last to enter was the commander of this support team, a veteran named Reno.

He participated in seven large-scale supernatural conflicts, and his left eye was a prosthetic eye, which was said to have been corrupted during one of the expulsions of an ancient evil spirit.

He walked up to Wu Heng and saluted: "President, we're off."

“Come back alive,” Wu Heng said, “and build the Hell Defense Line into our bridgehead in that world.”

"must!"

Renault turned and stepped into the gates of hell.

Behind the door, Dean and Bobby were already waiting at the exit with their men, to replace David. However, they still needed to hold a meeting at the guild, since Reno went in first.

When two hundred fresh troops, fully armed, appeared on the defensive line, the previously tense atmosphere immediately lifted.

“Perfect timing,” Dean said, bumping fists with Reno as they passed by. “We just spotted signs of a large-scale demon gathering three kilometers to the east, at least five hundred in number, and it looks like a big guy is in command.” (End of Chapter)