blogombal Chapter 30 They've Arrived
Chapter 30 They've Arrived
After seeing off the group of officers who had rediscovered their "pain," Lowe did not rest.
He arrived at the outermost defensive line of the Seventh Grain Depot.
This place was originally a simple fence made of discarded shipping containers and wire mesh.
Now, it looks a little different.
The "steel behemoth" harvester that performed great service in Zone E4 and underwent a mutation in the isolation room has been dismantled.
Or to be more precise, it was "skinned".
Luo Wei stood in front of a section of the defensive line and reached out to tap the dark red metal plate in front of him.
This is an armor plate removed from the front of the harvester.
After absorbing the bodily fluids of the Nurgle and being catalyzed by subspace vapor, this metal is no longer just simple steel.
Its surface is covered with a keratinous layer similar to that of crustaceans, so it no longer feels cold to the touch.
Instead, it has a slightly warm, rough texture.
If you put your ear close to it, you can hear a faint wriggling sound coming from inside.
"Bioactive armor"
Father Alpha stood behind Rowe, his tone revealing a morbid infatuation.
"Tests have shown that this mutant metal is 500% more resistant to corrosive acids than standard ceramic steel. Furthermore... it appears to possess some kind of self-healing property."
"And the price?" Rowe asked.
"It needs to eat." The priest pointed to the bottom of the metal plate, where some black ash had accumulated. "If it's not given organic matter, it will start to devour any metal it comes into contact with, and even... flesh and blood."
"Currently, we are using charred mutant rat carcasses as 'fuel,' and the effect is stable."
Lo Wei looked at the dark red wall.
This is no longer an inanimate object.
This is a living, hungry defense line.
"Move all the mutated armor plates in front of the heavy firepower points," Rowe quickly decided.
"Put the 'gray fog' you collect, which is the exhaust gas from the harvester, into a sealed container."
"What do you plan to do, as a consultant?"
"Make it into a landmine."
Luo Wei's eyes were exceptionally cold.
"Buried 200 meters outside the defensive line. Since the enemy likes to play with poison gas, let's let them taste this 'specially made' herbicide."
The sky grew completely dark.
The crimson sky was like a bruised wound, pressing down on everyone's heads.
Lowe returned to the command tower.
Through the observation hole, he could see the entire defensive line.
Six heavy firepower points have been deployed.
Those were six Grim Reapers burning with dark purple light.
Buck and his men were lying behind the scorching hot guns.
Their bodies trembled slightly due to the side effects of the medication.
But this trembling, ironically, kept them on high alert.
And on the outer periphery.
The laborers, still basking in the bliss of "green soup," were holding makeshift weapons and grinning foolishly as they guarded the trench.
They are the first line of defense, and also the inevitable expendable resources.
This is cruel.
But this is the choice that the clerk must make:
Calculate costs, control losses, and ensure the survival of core assets.
In battle, clarity of mind is an expensive luxury.
Only the most valuable "fixed assets" deserve to be owned.
The rest of the people only need to die in happiness.
This was already the greatest mercy that Loewe could offer them.
A kindness that doesn't require soberly facing despair.
Luo Wei gently covered his mouth and nose with a clean white handkerchief.
His other hand rested on the cold control panel.
Their gaze was not focused on the swirling mist in the distance.
Instead, it landed on a stack of data boards in front of them.
"The stockpiled ammunition consists of 3,000 standard explosive rounds and 20,000 live rounds."
"Fuel reserves are sufficient."
"Personnel losses...estimated at 30%."
Luo Wei silently recited these numbers in his mind.
"Advisor, high-energy biological reactions have been detected; they're here."
Father Alpha said in fear.
The servo skull behind him was emitting a faint fragrance.
An attempt to mask the unsettling subspace odor in the air.
"The quantity... is as large as you expected."
Luo Wei nodded slightly and put away the handkerchief.
He pushed open the observation window a crack, and the noise from outside instantly rushed in.
That wasn't a war cry, nor was it a wail.
Instead, it was laughter.
Behind makeshift shelters made of discarded shipping containers and sandbags, on the outermost line of defense of the grain depot, thousands of laborers dressed in tattered work clothes were crammed together.
They were carrying sharpened steel pipes, rusty wrenches, and even half a brick.
Without exception, a dreamy and blissful smile graced their faces.
That was a gift from the "enhanced green soup".
In the murky soup, the "excessive vitality" released by the subspace crystals shielded them from their fear of death.
The nerves that sense pain were severed.
This hell of despair has been disguised as a paradise flowing with milk and honey.
"For Green Soup! For the Consultant!"
Someone shouted.
Immediately afterwards, more people began to echo this sentiment.
There was no trace of tragedy, only an excitement as if one were about to attend a grand banquet.
Loewe witnessed everything, yet his eyes remained calm.
He didn't feel much guilt.
Compared to being torn apart by monsters in despair and fear, dying in a blissful illusion is perhaps the greatest dignity these people can attain.
"Prepare for contact," Rowe said calmly. "Have Buck's men hold their ground. No heavy weapons are to fire without my order."
The fog churned even more violently.
The first thing to appear was the fly.
Countless greenbottle flies, like a black whirlwind, swept in from the shadows of the ruins.
The dense buzzing sound was enough to make any mentally sound person's scalp tingle.
Immediately following them was a group of figures walking with faltering steps.
The undead corrupted by the plague of Nagle.
They were once human beings, perhaps refugees from other granaries, or perhaps unfortunate scavengers.
Now, their swollen bodies are covered with pustules and tentacles, their skin has a sickly grayish-green color, and their eye sockets are filled with murky yellow fluid.
They didn't run; they just moved step by step, like a slowly advancing wall of flesh.
"It's here! That's meat, that's an extra treat!"
One of the laborers on the outer perimeter of the defense line shouted excitedly.
The hallucinations brought on by the green soup made him see the rotting monster as some kind of delicious prey.
He jumped out of the trench, brandishing the iron bar in his hand, and charged forward.
When one person moves, the others follow suit.
The laborers, who were supposed to be on the defensive, took the initiative and rushed into the fog of death like a group of children who had spotted candy.
The contact occurs instantaneously.
No fierce fighting occurred.
That was a one-sided devouring.
The laborers at the forefront were overwhelmed by the horde of zombies in a single encounter.
The iron rod in his hand slammed into a monster's shoulder with a dull thud, as if it had hit a pile of rotten cotton.
The monster did not retaliate; it simply opened its enormous mouth, splitting to its ears, and bit the laborer's neck.
Fresh blood gushed out.
However, the worker did not scream.
Even as his throat was ripped off, a strange smile remained on his face.
What seemed like excruciating pain was actually just a warm embrace.
"Pfft, pfft."
The chilling sounds of chewing echoed across the battlefield.
The "happiness defense line" composed of thousands of workers is like pieces of fresh meat being thrown into a meat grinder.
Although it slightly hindered the rotation of the cauldron, it could only turn into puddles of red and green minced meat in the end.
This scene is absurd and terrifying.
Soldiers of the defense army standing behind the second line of defense—
To be precise, it was Buck and five squad leaders from the defense force.
They are currently experiencing hellish torment.
After they were injected with the diluted "wake-up agent," the effects continued to work.
The pain, fear, and anxiety that had been suppressed for so long by the green soup erupted in their nerves with ten times the intensity.
Buck lay trembling behind a heavy logging rifle.
His head was throbbing, his stomach was churning, and every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass.
Those comrades who smiled as they went to their deaths.
Those monsters chewing on flesh and blood.
It was terrifyingly clear in his eyes, and no illusionary filter could obscure it.
Fear seeped into my very bones.
"Stay calm."
Luo Wei's cold shout came through the headphones.
"Pain is proof that you are still alive. Use it!"
Luo Wei stood atop the tower, looking down at the scene below that resembled a battlefield.
The first line of defense, a dam of flesh and blood built by thousands of laborers immersed in false happiness, collapsed the moment it came into contact with the enemy.
But this was not an accident.
Rather, it is the inevitable result of precise calculation.
When the surviving laborers, in the excruciating pain of being torn apart, regained their instinctive fear and began to cry out and flee backwards.
They were unaware that they had already fulfilled their mission as "bait".
After devouring large amounts of flesh and blood brimming with "excessive vitality," the zombies swelled up like inflating balloons, and their originally sluggish movements became exceptionally agile.
They were driven mad by the blood containing subspace energy within the laborers' bodies.
Completely disregarding the disjointed formation.
I just want to rush deeper in and enjoy this feast.
This is exactly what Rowe wanted.
He spotted a figure hidden in the shadows behind the horde of zombies—
The elite traitor guard, surrounded by Nurgles.
And the plague carrier, the one-eyed, horned demon overseer.
If conventional tactics are followed and heavy firepower is exposed too early, these cunning command nodes will definitely use the zombies as cover or spread out to encircle them.
But now, the "happy sacrifice" of thousands of laborers has not only fed the cannon fodder in the front row, causing them to crowd together out of greed and stagnate out of eating.
More importantly, this creates a perfect "disconnect".
The greedy zombies rushed forward too quickly, while the cautious elites remained on the sidelines.
Between the two, a fatal gap has appeared.
This area is precisely the best firing range for heavy loggers.
If the enemy's elite troops closely followed behind the cannon fodder zombies and laborers, charging together in a mixed manner.
When the heavy machine guns fire, the fallen corpses in the front row pile up like mountains, instantly becoming a natural cover that blocks the path of subsequent fire.
This "blank area" means that once the cannon fodder rushes through, the elite plague troops behind will be exposed to the open field without any cover.
Heavy machine guns could directly sweep their torsos.
Instead of hitting the rotting flesh of the zombies in front of them.
The time has come!
"Heavy firepower group." Rowe tapped the edge of the control panel lightly. "Release the safety valve. Get the steam flowing."
"yes!"
Buck gritted his teeth and pulled the bolt hard.
Beside him, the black flexible hose connecting to the steam pipes of the fermentation workshop began to vibrate violently.
"hiss."
A stream of white steam was forcibly injected into the cooling sleeve of the heavy logging gun.
It is not ordinary water vapor.
It is a high-energy substance that has been "heated" through subspace crystallization, containing the concepts of "excessive vitality" and "accelerated maturation".
The originally dark gun barrel turned into an unsettling dark purple in that instant.
The scriptures engraved on the gun seemed to be ignited, emitting a faint glow.
The surrounding temperature suddenly rose.
Buck felt a wave of heat hit him, scorching his eyebrows.
But he did not back down.
Compared to the burning pain in his body, the feeling of powerlessness when facing the monster was even more unbearable for him.