Warhammer: Empire Reboot

A pureblood creature crawling at full speed on the ceiling was blown away by a high-explosive grenade at a distance of half a meter.

The shockwave ripped it off the ceiling, and as it hit the ground, it was simultaneously blasted in the abdomen by six laser guns. The six laser beams burned into its internal organs, boiling them.

The group of purebloods who launched a surprise attack from behind triggered a series of pre-buried booby traps while attempting to flank through the side passages.

The explosion bounced back and forth in the narrow pipe, cracking the carapaces of the first three purebloods.

The purebloods behind them continued to advance, stepping on the remains of their own kind, before being blocked at the pipe exit by Squad 7, who used a cluster laser to call out names one by one.

The pipe outlet is only one meter wide.

Pureblood beings cannot extend their four arms, and their speed advantage is completely negated in confined spaces.

Jia Qi stood five meters directly opposite the pipe outlet, holding a plasma pistol, and fired a precise shot every three seconds.

Every pureblood attempting to break free of the pipe was struck in the head or chest the moment it emerged from its body.

Seven purebloods piled up at the pipe exit, forming a purplish-gray wall of corpses.

The last batch of purebloods abandoned infiltration tactics and opted for a frontal assault.

They launched a simultaneous attack from three directions of the passage, moving so fast that they left only streaks of purplish-gray afterimages on the assassins' retinas.

The main hatch of the forging furnace test chamber opened with a roar when the pureblood body rushed to a distance of fifty meters.

The multi-barreled rapid-fire gun was mounted on a reinforced gun mount directly behind the main hatch.

A stood behind the cannon and pulled the trigger.

At 70% power, the multi-barrel rapid-fire cannon's rate of fire is one-third lower than its peak, but its firepower density is still a nightmare for any creature in the passage.

Everything in the corridor was torn to shreds in half a second.

The three purebloods at the forefront didn't even have time to dodge.

The barrage of bullets cratered their armor, first creating cracks, then scattering fragments, before the projectiles pierced through the shattered shells and penetrated their bodies, turning muscles and organs into a bloody pulp.

The purebloods behind instinctively scattered, trying to avoid the barrage of bullets.

However, the remaining troops of the third line of defense and the ten squads inside the stronghold opened fire simultaneously from the fire bunkers on both sides of the passage.

Crossfire.

The pureblood body on the ceiling was hit in the abdomen by a laser beam shot from below.

The wall was blown away by the explosives from the side.

Those attempting to approach by crawling on the ground were covered in shrapnel from a grenade.

The last pureblood, a full size larger than its kind, was likely the leader of this small group. After enduring at least eight explosive shells and more than a dozen laser beams, it still charged with incredible tenacity to within three meters of the multi-barrel rapid-fire cannon.

Two of its four arms were broken.

The carapace was completely shattered, revealing the pale, steaming muscle tissue beneath.

Purple fluid gushed out from countless bullet holes.

But it's still moving.

The remaining two arms raised their serrated claws and slashed down at the cannon mount.

As soon as Jia released the control handle, his right hand reached for the hilt of the chainsaw sword at his waist.

He dodged the attack by sidestepping, and the chainsaw blade tore into the pureblood's chest cavity from bottom to top, its roaring serrations splitting him in two from abdomen to throat.

Lawson surveyed the battlefield through telepathic communication.

All thirty-seven purebloods were wiped out.

Our side suffered casualties: 34 ordinary soldiers were killed in action, and four Class A captains were wounded.

In addition, twenty-three ordinary soldiers were wounded to varying degrees.

Without the chitinous inner armor, at least three of the four wounded Class A captains would have died on the spot, and that debt would have been too much for thirty-four people to cover.

Lawson used his life points to heal all the wounded and repair the chitinous inner armor damage to the four captains, then checked the results.

On the system panel, the numbers for biomass are fluctuating.

[Biomass + 30 × 37 = +1110.]

With these biomass materials, we can continue to implant chitinous inner armor into the enhanced captain.

After the battle, Lawson dealt with the aftermath, cleaned up the battlefield, rearranged defenses, and scouted for movements in the distance.

Core area of ​​the abandoned ship.

Deep within a space more than eighty kilometers away from Lawson's controlled territory, in a space completely transformed by Tyran biomass, the gene-stealing patriarch resides in the very center of his lair.

Thirty-seven psionic links have been permanently severed.

The feeling was like having thirty-seven teeth pulled out alive—not fatal, but excruciatingly painful.

The patriarch's psionic network generated violent feedback oscillations the instant it broke.

The patriarch recounted the remaining purebloods in the psionic network.

The total losses have exceeded sixty.

This number caused the patriarch's serrated claws to tighten unconsciously.

At the current rate of reproduction, it would take nearly three years to replenish the sixty pure-blooded individuals.

Meanwhile, the enemy's troop strength is increasing.

From just a few people at the beginning, to dozens, to hundreds, and now the number is unknown.

Each time they clashed, their opponents were stronger, more numerous, and more difficult to deal with than the last.

In the genes of the Tyranids, survival always takes precedence over everything else—over territory, over honor, over revenge.

It made the decision.

All purebloods retreated to the core nest area.

Strengthen the outer perimeter of the nest-like sensor network.

Cease all proactive reconnaissance operations.

Until we are absolutely certain, we will not engage in any form of contact with that unknown enemy.

Let the greenskins and demons consume it.

Wait until both sides are severely weakened before striking to reap the rewards.

It closed its pair of purple eyes that glowed in the darkness.

Within the psionic network, all purebloods simultaneously received the order to retreat.

Lawson was unaware that the patriarch had made the decision to shrink the territory.

But in the following days, his surveillance network found no further trace of the gene stealers.

The traces of nest silk and pureblood that had frequently appeared along the advance route disappeared overnight.

Lawson noticed this change.

"The cunning fellow has retreated."

“Good. With one less threat from one direction, we have more room to expand. But don’t let your guard down; the chieftain is the most patient of all our enemies. He’s waiting.”

The team leaders expressed their understanding through mutual communication.

But the more pressing problem facing Lawson is not the enemy, but ammunition.

The inventory report of the forge stronghold's munitions was transmitted up by Number 1 through the mind-communication system.

As Lawson looked at the numbers, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

.75 caliber explosives: Dozens of boxes seized from Iron Fang Camp, more than 60 percent of which have been used.

At the current rate of consumption, we can only sustain high-intensity combat for a maximum of ten to twelve days.

The laser gun's charged magazines, more than forty fully loaded magazines, have already been used up by two-thirds.

The wrecked ship is without power, so there's no energy source to recharge the magazines; once they're used up, they're gone.

Fragmentation grenades and high-explosive grenades: Stockpiles have dropped to less than three boxes.

Merta explosive tubes: Only four left.

The root of the problem is simple: his team grew too fast.

Chapter 48 Ammunition Stockpiles Running Low (Third Update)

When he only had a few dozen men, the Imperial standard ammunition he plundered from the Iron Fang camp was virtually inexhaustible.

But now he has nearly a thousand men, a hundred combat squads, who carry out hunting and clearing missions every day in every corner of the wrecked ship.

However, there are almost no supplementary channels.

Taking down some small orc tribes can indeed yield some weapons, but those things are made by greenskins.

Iron pipes, gunpowder, and scrap iron were used; there was no trigger guard, no sights, and shooting accuracy was calculated in terms of "approximately in that direction."

Even after improvements by the labor team led by the small wrenchman and the fart-wielding laborers, including the addition of a simple front sight, grinding of the inner wall of the barrel, and welding reinforcement of the cannon barrel, the accuracy and stability of the green-skinned weapon still felt insulting to any soldier who had undergone formal shooting training.

Even more critical is reliability.

The firing mechanism of orc weapons relies on the weak support of the Waaagh energy field.

In the hands of orcs, this enhancement is enough to make an iron pipe filled with gunpowder fire normally.

But in the hands of humans, every shot is a gamble.

The small wrench has done its best to improve the problem, but the rate of barrel explosions remains at a worrying eight percent.

Lawson had already had his assassins thoroughly search the wreckage of the Imperial frigate where the second stronghold was located.

With its armory empty, the frigate was likely already out of ammunition and supplies before being swept into the space wreckage.

The remains of several Imperial Navy crew members found inside the cabin confirm this.

If the ammunition problem isn't solved, his thousand-strong army will eventually degenerate into a purely melee-focused force.