Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The first thing the survivors did after getting up was to point at the wrecked tank and shout:

"See that? I flew farther than that red bastard!"

The Evil Sun Clan believed that red ran faster.

Under the influence of this collective belief, they can indeed enable those dilapidated red cars with completely unreasonable structures and engines that could explode at any time to reach speeds that normal machinery cannot achieve.

On the first day after the Death Track opened, more than 50,000 war trucks, buggies and modified motorcycles crowded into the entrance.

After the starting signal lit up, the entire canyon was filled with the roar of engines and the sound of gunfire.

The driver held the steering wheel with one hand and operated the machine gun with the other, firing at the vehicles next to him.

The orc boy on the vehicle brandished a long pole, chainsaw, and grappling hook, attempting to leap onto the roof of his rival's vehicle.

Someone successfully jumped over, killed the driver, and stole the enemy's vehicle.

Some people slipped and were caught in the rapidly spinning wheels.

Flesh, blood, and bone fragments flew backward, and the race cars behind ran over the corpses.

Each explosion was accompanied by excited howls from the surrounding orcs.

They never care whether the competition is fair.

They only care about whether their cars are fast enough, their guns are loud enough, and whether the explosion is spectacular enough when they crash into their opponents.

The underground ruins of Hades's Nest City became the favorite area of ​​the Evilmoon Clan and the Bloodaxe Clan.

Countless containers, pipelines, and broken buildings formed a three-dimensional battlefield.

The upper level is a rickety steel pier, the middle level is full of firing ports and secret passages, and the bottom level is piled with explosives, discarded ammunition and still leaking fuel.

Orcs who enter here can freely splash "Daka".

Whoever fires the loudest gunshots, fires the most bullets, and creates the biggest explosions will receive cheers from the stands.

The teeth of the Evil Moon Clan grow faster than those of other orcs.

They are also typically wealthier, enabling them to purchase larger weapons with outrageous rates of fire.

A leader of the Evil Moon War walked into the battlefield carrying more than a dozen gun barrels.

After the trigger was pulled, a barrage of bullets instantly collapsed an entire row of containers.

Before it could even let out a triumphant roar, the Bloodaxe Orc hidden in the pipe above had already dropped a bomb.

The explosion engulfed the leader of the Evil Moon War.

Its ammunition detonated, sending a fireball through three platforms and taking with it hundreds of orcs who were watching the battle.

The orc stands erupted in even louder cheers.

Many orcs died, and the explosion was huge.

Therefore, this was a good battle.

Whether they enjoy racing, hand-to-hand combat, shooting duels, or clashing with the Killing Iron Canisters and Orc Dreadnoughts, Orcs can find a battlefield in Armageddon that suits their nature.

There's even a "junk yard" specifically prepared for male technicians.

The T-series is in charge of this battlefield. ur-025 came to check it out, but it didn't like the noisy environment and preferred to go fishing.

Both sides can assemble their own war machines within a specified time using the same amount of warship scrap, engines, and weapons.

When the time comes, the two newly completed machines, which may fall apart at any moment, will be pushed into the central area.

Whoever blows the other into scrap metal first wins.

There are also suture pits specially prepared for those suffering from pain.

The team defending the title consists of some of the more eccentric scientists in Lawson's genetic modification team.

Pain Boy can freely choose from a large number of severed limbs, piecing together the heads, arms, internal organs, and mechanical parts of different orcs, and then letting these newly awakened monsters fight each other.

For normal races, it was a hell filled with screams and medical waste.

The boy in pain was so happy he could hardly control himself.

They brandished blood-stained saws and discussed the matter amidst the cheers of the audience:

"Give this kid another leg, and it'll definitely run even faster!"

"What's the use of legs? Just add two more heads, then you can shout louder!"

The entirety of Armageddon gradually transformed into a war paradise tailor-made for the orcs, one that never closed.

They no longer even need war leaders to drive them away.

If you want to race today, go to the death track; if you want to kill someone tomorrow, go to the meat grinder.

When you get tired of fighting, you can go to the blood pit to see a self-proclaimed invincible orc leader get its head ripped off by the battle sequence.

If you feel stronger after watching, you can sign up on the spot and then die in the next round.

The orcs were absolutely ecstatic.

Of course, they don't naturally follow the rules.

The orcs' order has always been built on bigger fists and more ferocious violence.

At Blood Pit No. 67, a one-on-one duel is reaching its climax.

A combat order officer had just broken the challenger's legs and was preparing to use it as the "green-skinned hammer," as was customary.

In the stands, the orc's tribe members were outraged.

"Beat him up! That human shrimp is trying to cheat!"

"Let's attack together! Avenge our boss!"

Hundreds of orcs roared, ignoring the Death Ravine, and jumped directly from the stands, which were more than ten meters high.

A one-on-one fight instantly turned into a gang fight.

Meanwhile, on the death track, a war truck had its wheels blown off by a rocket.

Enraged, the driver immediately called for backup fire support.

A few minutes later, a wobbly Leo Ku car rushed onto the track and used its huge chainsaw arm to sweep all the cars in its way, friend or foe, into scrap metal.

Lawson has only one way to deal with this kind of behavior that breaks the "rules of the game," and it's utterly unpleasant.

The sky suddenly darkened.

A beam of energy with a diameter of over ten meters fell precisely from the synchronous orbit.

The beam of light enveloped the sixty-seventh arena and all the orcs causing trouble around it.

When the pillar of light disappeared, only a giant, glassy crater with smooth, mirror-like edges remained, and all the rioting orcs were vaporized.

On the other side, Leo Ku's car, which had rushed onto the track, suddenly stopped.

Inside its cockpit, a metal ball no bigger than a fist rolled in.

The next second, a cloud of green toxic mist erupted from the cockpit.

The orc members inside the ancient building didn't even have time to utter a scream before they were dissolved into bubbling green soup by the poison gas.

Immediately afterwards, the poisonous fog spread out, enveloping all the green-skinned people who had come to cheer within a radius of several hundred meters...

So, let these orcs dissolve into a pile of green mud in the poisonous fog that rivals the Katachon barking toad!

Orcs are certainly not afraid of death; they even yearn to die gloriously in battle.

But this way of dying is so fucking boring!

Being shot down from the sky by a beam of light, without even seeing the opponent's face, how unpleasant!

It was dissolved into a puddle of water by a green, smelly fart, leaving not even bones behind, which was even more unpleasant!

They can't feel happy this way! It's a humiliation!

Gradually, the orcs began to maintain "order" themselves.

Inside the meat grinder, an orc boy watched as his leader was about to be hacked to death. Just as he was about to launch a sneak attack from behind, he was slapped away by a larger war leader next to him.

"Get out of the way! This is our boss's own battle! Do you want us all to turn into a pool of green water?!"

On the deadly track, a young mechanic is planning to plant landmines.

Before it could even dig a hole, it was kicked over by the leader of the racing team.

"Idiot! The racetrack is sacred! If you want to cause trouble, go to the junkyard across the street! Don't fucking get in the way here!"

Orcs are the happiest race in the universe; they are happy as long as there is fighting.

At Hamilton, Lawson provided them with the highest quality, the most diverse, and a continuous supply of shelves.

The premise is that the rules must be followed.

By following the rules, you can engage in close combat with the toughest "shrimp" in the entire galaxy, risk your life against the craziest racers, and also enjoy the thrill of being showered with bullets.

Breaking the rules will make you a laughingstock.

A steady stream of orcs poured in from every corner of the galaxy, joyfully rushing into this slaughterhouse tailor-made for them, to enjoy their last moments of revelry.

The war at Armageddon has entered a strange equilibrium.

But Lawson's design was far more ruthless than that.

A simple massacre might cause some of the most cunning orcs to choose to observe or even leave.

Therefore, we must give them hope.

On the death track, a "Crimson Lightning" war truck modified by the Evil Sun Clan surged ahead of all its opponents after dodging three explosive traps and a magnetic cliff.

Behind it, two Hurricane light cavalry, driven by combat units, were in hot pursuit.

The laser beams grazed the tail armor of the "Crimson Lightning" repeatedly, sending up a trail of sparks, but always just missed, failing to hit the crucial engine and tires.

The orc spectators along the track went completely crazy.

"Charge! Smash those shrimps!"

"Run them over! Run them over!"

"I'm betting everything on you!"