From Titan Corporation to the Empire of Man

Chapter 705 "A Bunch of Scum."

Faced with the sudden appearance of flames and swarms of blood-red crosses, everyone understood the reason almost simultaneously—

The reason that pharmacy was deserted was because a "fishing" trap had been set for it.

For Blood Cross, pharmacies, places that symbolize hope for survival, are the perfect bait to lure survivors in dire straits.

Simply wait for your prey to come to you, and you can easily devour it.

In an instant, the atmosphere became extremely tense.

Hahaha--!
The massive Blood Cross threw his head back and laughed wildly, the deep sound shaking the broken walls like war drums echoing among the ruins.

It suddenly stretched out its arms, as if giving some kind of command, and the Blood Crosses lurking in the shadows roared and pounced out.

Their movements were contorted yet incredibly fast, and they carried a variety of weapons: rusty pistols, patchwork spears, and even firearms seized from the military and police.

In the firelight, these weapons looked particularly terrifying in the bloodstained hands of the monsters.

"Fire!"

The captain's roar was almost an instinctive reaction.

He suddenly raised his rifle, using the light and shadow of his night vision goggles to lock onto the head of the burly man with the blood-red cross, and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

Tap. Tap tap~!

The bullets, fired in bursts, tore through the air, but only ripped off a piece of flesh from the strong man's shoulder.

Blood sprayed out with a roar, but the monster's body trembled slightly, then it continued to look down with overwhelming rage, the crimson light in its eyes growing even more intense.

"Retreat! Retreat from here!!"

The captain roared hoarsely.

blah blah blah!
In an instant, gunfire erupted as the entire SWAT team unleashed their full firepower.

The silencer reduced the sound of the gunshot, but it couldn't mask the dull thud of the bullet hitting flesh.

Several Blood Cross members nearby were immediately hit by pinpoint shots, their heads exploding or their chests being pierced, and they collapsed to the ground.

However, their howls and collapsing bodies immediately drew roars from more of their kind.

The entire neighborhood instantly erupted into chaos, like a zombie hive ablaze.

Following the pre-planned emergency strategy, the team immediately retreated into the narrow alley.

Cover, firepower, and withdrawal—every action was orderly and swift, as if they had experienced similar scenarios countless times before.

However, this time the enemy's numbers and firepower exceeded any previous encounter.

call out!call out!
A sharp whooshing sound suddenly rang out, mixed with the flickering light and shadow from the burning torches.

The Blood Crosses don't rely solely on brute force; they also use various weapons and projectiles.

Immediately afterwards, with a "splat", a spray of blood exploded at the alley entrance.

"what--!"

The SWAT officer at the rear suddenly staggered as a small-caliber pistol bullet pierced his calf, and blood seeped out through the plastic wrap, quickly staining his combat trousers red.

His screams pierced the night sky, a mixture of pain and terror that instantly drew the attention of countless Blood Crosses.

"hold onto!"

A teammate in front suddenly turned around, his eyes flashing with urgency and anger.

Without hesitation, he rushed back, supporting his wounded comrade's shoulder with one hand while still gripping his rifle tightly with the other, and opened fire on the pursuing Blood Cross.

Each bullet pierced the chests or abdomens of the Blood Crosses, tearing a brief gap in the raging tide.

"Go! Go!"

The captain roared again, his voice hoarse from the adrenaline, carrying an imposing force.

The five men, protecting the injured man, stumbled and retreated deeper into the alley, their footsteps echoing rapidly in the narrow space.

The dilapidated walls were constantly being pierced by stray bullets, and sparks and dust flew everywhere, as if the entire city was collapsing.

"Cover! Alternate cover!"

The captain quickly gave the order.

The two immediately stopped, half-kneeled, raised their guns, and accurately fired at the pursuing Blood Cross.

The two on the other side quickly dragged the wounded man back.

Amidst the flashes of fire, spent bullet casings clattered to the ground, their sounds mingling with the low groans of the wounded, creating a symphony of despair.

The roars of the Blood Cross drew ever closer, completely disregarding the deaths of their companions. Instead, fueled by the blood and fire, they grew even more frenzied.

Infected individuals kept emerging from the holes in the walls and tumbling down the rubble of the stairs, like an endless wave of attacks.

Amidst this hellish ruin, five SWAT officers gritted their teeth and fought with gunfire and blood to carve out a sliver of life for themselves and the people in the shelter.

Gunshots rang out intermittently in the dilapidated alleyways, flashes of light filled the air, and the figures of the SWAT team appeared and disappeared intermittently.

They fought and retreated, their movements precise and swift, because death hung in the balance behind them, ready to snatch their lives at any moment.

Broken bricks and stones crunched underfoot, and metal bullet casings still clattered to the ground, their sounds mingling with the distant howls of the Blood Cross, like some kind of absurd death knell.

Just when they seemed to be gradually finding a way to escape, an unexpected change suddenly occurred.

The SWAT officer who had been shot in the calf struggled to escape with the help of his comrades, but his breathing became increasingly rapid, his shoulders heaved violently, sweat rolled down his cheeks, and his eyes gradually became vacant.

Suddenly, he abruptly shook off the hand of the person supporting him, his arms flailing wildly as if in spasm. Then, he reached straight up and ripped off his helmet and night vision goggles.

"What are you doing?!" The special police officer who was helping her up reached out to stop her in astonishment.

But it was too late.

Hahahaha!!!

The wounded man's movements were almost frantic. He tilted his head back and let out a roaring laugh. His voice was dry and hoarse, yet it carried a sharpness that was not human.

The next instant, "he" suddenly pounced forward, his hands clamping down on his companion's face like iron clamps.

"Pfft-!"

Fresh blood spurted out instantly.

The attacked SWAT officer let out a bloodcurdling scream as his eyes were instantly mauled by his comrade's brutal digging with his thumb.

A sharp howl echoed through the narrow alley, like a soul-rending lament, causing the other comrades to abruptly stop in their tracks.

"This is impossible!" one of them exclaimed, almost stunned.

The face of the SWAT officer who had previously injured his calf was now covered with shocking, bloody, cross-shaped blisters. His skin was red and swollen from the high fever, and dark red pus was oozing from the corners of his eyes and mouth.

Its expression was ferocious and bizarre, completely losing its human charm, replaced by the indifference and blasphemous madness of the infected.

This scene left the remaining three SWAT officers completely stunned and confused.
This is totally wrong!
They knew that the wounded soldier had only been shot in the calf. Although the penetrating wound was painful, it was by no means fatal. As long as the right time was found for treatment and bandaging, there would be no problem at all, let alone the possibility of him instantly becoming infected.

When exactly?
What step is it?
What is the route of infection for the Blood Cross that allowed it to be completed quietly right under their noses?
"Sir, this—"

A special police officer instinctively wanted to speak, but before he could finish, he was left speechless.

Snapped!
The crisp, decisive gunshot shattered all the questions.

The captain reacted faster than anyone else.

Without hesitation or delay, he steadily drew his pistol with his right hand, ruthlessly pressed the muzzle against the forehead of his mutated comrade, and pulled the trigger.

Pfft!

The bullet pierced the skull instantly, and blood mist and brain matter, along with the smell of gunpowder, splattered into the air, creating a scene resembling a hellish painting.

The body, now a blood-red cross, convulsed violently before collapsing limply to the ground. However, the nightmare was far from over.

The SWAT officer, whose eyes had been gouged out, was now letting out a shrill scream, blood gushing down his face and neck, staining his tattered combat uniform.

Most importantly, the blood of the colleague who had already become infected was also splattered on the SWAT officer's face.

The blind SWAT officer lay paralyzed on the ground, waving his hands wildly as if trying to grab something, his voice filled with despair and pain.

The captain's face darkened completely.

His brows were furrowed, veins bulged on his forehead, and his eyes flashed with cold pain.

The next instant, he raised his pistol and coldly aimed it at his colleague who was still groaning in pain.

"sorry."

His voice was deep, yet carried an undeniable firmness.

Snapped!
Gunfire rang out again.

The bullet pierced his comrade's forehead with perfect accuracy.

The blind SWAT officer suddenly fell silent, as if relieved from excruciating pain and despair, and finally collapsed to the ground, his blood gradually soaking the gravel.

This scene left the remaining three barely able to breathe.

Grief and anger churned within them, their eyes welling with tears but they dared not shed them, for at that moment, the howls and footsteps of the Blood Cross were drawing ever closer.

The captain took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions in his chest, and spoke coldly:
"Don't hesitate! They're gone! If we stop now, we'll be wiped out!"

These words struck like a hammer blow, jolting the three surviving SWAT officers out of their shock.

His gaze refocused, and killing intent replaced his confusion.

They readjusted their formation, quickened their pace, and continued their retreat among the ruins.

The flames continued to chase them from behind, and the howl of the Blood Cross seemed poised to tear their spines apart at any moment, but they knew in their hearts that the scene from just now was already deeply imprinted on their souls.

Pain and anger became their only fuel, propelling them to continue their frantic run through the dark ruins.

Not far away, the dim lights at the subway entrance flickered on and off, as if tolling the alarm for the bloody tragedy that was about to unfold.

The dilapidated stone steps lead downwards, and at the end of the tunnel lies the hidden sanctuary where the survivors depend on for survival.

But the approaching howls and heavy footsteps reminded them that time was running out for the squad.

The figures of the Blood Cross Infected kept emerging at the end of the street. Under the red light, their hideous faces looked like demons from purgatory.

Their footsteps were chaotic and hurried, their movements revealing blasphemy and madness, like a pack of hungry wolves eyeing their prey.

Every member of the SWAT team knew that if they all evacuated now, Blood Cross would pursue them deep into the subway station and discover the shelter in no time.

Once exposed, none of the elderly, children, and injured people in the shelter will escape unscathed.

After a moment of silence, the captain turned around abruptly, his tone as cold and hard as iron: "Give me all the stun grenades and improvised explosive devices."

The remaining special police officers were stunned for a moment, then understood his intention.

No one tried to dissuade them, and no one shouted "No!"

They all remained silent, quickly handing over the stun grenades, homemade explosives, and the remaining magazines to the captain. Each person's actions were decisive and swift, yet they carried an intense, suppressed pain.

A brief glance is worth more than a thousand words.

The captain didn't say anything more, just nodded, as if giving a silent instruction.

He then nudged the shoulder of the team member who had helped him, signaling them to evacuate immediately.

"Go! Protect the people below!"

Without further hesitation, the remaining three gritted their teeth, turned around, and disappeared into the dark subway tunnel.

The figure disappeared into the darkness, yet it carried an immense weight, as if dragging a sorrow that was suppressed to the extreme.

On the surface, only the captain remained.

He leaned against the wreckage of an overturned car next to the entrance, gripping his rifle tightly, breathing heavily.

The howls of the Blood Cross were already close at hand, and as the torchlight flickered, countless figures rushed towards them.

"Come on, you beasts!"

He growled in a low voice, then suddenly leaned out and pulled the trigger.

Da da da--!
Full-automatic fire suddenly erupted in the darkness, bullets tracing blazing trails in the flames, instantly felling a group of charging infected.

The hot gun barrel emitted billowing smoke, and the smell of gunpowder was pungent and acrid, but the captain's hand did not stop for a moment.

Immediately afterwards, he pulled out a stun grenade, pulled the pin sharply, and threw it.

"boom--!"

A white light and a loud bang exploded together, and the infected within a ten-meter radius instantly covered their ears and staggered backward.

Taking advantage of this brief respite, the captain unleashed another barrage of fire, suppressing the enemy's advance.

However, there are far too many Blood Crosses.

In the darkness, blood-crossed figures kept appearing, carrying dilapidated guns and crude crossbows.

Although their accuracy was questionable, a dense hail of bullets and arrows still rained down, clanging and clattering as they struck the car wreckage and concrete, sending sparks flying.

One bullet after another was emptied from the magazine, and stun grenades were thrown out one after another. In just half a minute, he had used up all his ammunition.

My breathing became rapid, almost suffocating, and all I could hear was a deafening roar.

But he remained standing.

Finally, the intense gunfire and explosions gradually subsided, leaving only the rattling sound of his empty rifle.

After a moment of silence, he slowly exhaled, a low laugh escaping his throat.

Just then, a huge shadow blocked the firelight.
The big guy in the blood cross finally appeared.

The monster was at least 2.2 meters tall, with muscles like cast iron, a chest covered in mottled scars, and eyes that gleamed with a sickly red light.

It looked down at the SWAT captain who stood alone, a mocking sneer curling at the corner of its mouth.

Knowing his time was running out, the captain raised his hand and lit the improvised explosive device, preparing to perish together with the monster.

However, the big guy moved faster than expected.

"call out--!"

The air was suddenly sliced ​​open as a massive cleaver swept past with a whoosh, its blade gleaming coldly in the firelight. In the next instant, the blade struck the captain's right arm with tremendous force.

"Pfft-!"

Blood gushed out instantly, and the intense pain caused him to let out a suppressed groan.

His right arm was cleanly severed in an instant, flesh torn open, and broken bones exposed.

In the firelight, severed limbs, still covered in ignited explosives, slid to the ground, sparks flying everywhere.

The excruciating pain nearly made him faint, but the captain's eyes remained resolute. He clenched his teeth, his left hand trembling as he reached for another bomb. Blood trickled down between his fingers, as if drawing a crimson mark on him.

He knew he couldn't give up.

Even if you only have one breath left, you must buy time for your comrades.
Thump, thump!

"A bunch of scum."

However, at that moment, the SWAT captain, who was about to lose consciousness due to excessive blood loss, heard an extremely heavy thud and a metallic voice.
(End of this chapter)