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Chapter 88: Zombie meet bullet.



"Santiago, Mike, are you unarmed or do you have anything that can be used as a weapon? Do your injuries require immediate medical attention? What do you have to work with?"

It was common practice for rescue teams to try to communicate with survivors as they were being rescued. This served as a multifaceted technique to perform several checks at once.

First, it measured the cognitive function of those in need. If the survivors could not understand simple questions, the responders would know if immediate medical attention was needed.

Second, the survivors could share vital information about their situation. By keeping their minds busy, they do not have time to wallow in grief or despair.

Finally, it served as a moral support to them that they still had hope. Hearing from those trying to help them would let them know that they were not abandoned.

There were countless stories of heroism that occurred in such dire times. Humanity shone brightest when it helped each other overcome disaster and hardship.

[Hombre, we weren\'t very well armed to begin with, just a few low-quality daggers. Right now, we have to make do with rocks to beat up the bastards. Fortunately, the only things here are F-ranks,] Santiago shared.

[As for injuries, we both have a few scratches, my left arm is shot, and Santi has a hole in his stomach. It would be nice if you had some medicine with you. Otherwise this Mexican asshat would be going to see the Lord before sunrise.]

The two of them seem close, close enough to joke about the other dying. I wasn\'t sure if they knew, but there was an Rank E Undead Giant with them in the underground. Depending on their luck, they might be able to avoid it altogether.

The enemies in Hellsgate were divided into three categories.

First were the undead, creatures that had risen from the grave and had unlimited stamina and status resistance. They were zombies, ghouls, skeletons, ghosts, or whatever the undead were. They were the most numerous, but the weakest type, and floors before floor 20 usually had nothing but undead.

Second were the monsters, these bastards were the ones found in tabletop RPGs or video games. They had stronger bodies and may or may not be humanoid.

But they all needed food and rest and were basically animals. Goblins, orcs, wolves, werebeasts, and dragons fell into this category. The middle tiers beyond level 20 were combinations of undead and monsters.

Finally, there were demonkin, and their defining characteristic was that they did not age. They started out weak, but the older they got, the stronger they became.

Unlike the undead, who hated the living, or the monsters, who fought for sustenance or procreation, the demonkin fought for sport. Imps, succubi, vampires, and demonic bastards of all kinds made up this group.

The three types were ranked from F to SSS depending on how dangerous they were. However, members from the three types could be found in almost all ranks.

So far, I have encountered Rank E undead such as the Undertakers and the Chiefs, as well as Rank E monsters such as the Cyclops. The undead giant was also of the same rank.

However, they were all of the same rank. This was just a broad classification of power, there were high ranked E\'s and low ranked E\'s.

The Undertaker could resurrect mob rank Fs while controlling a small number. The Chiefs, on the other hand, specialized in controlling hundreds. The Cyclops, though large and powerful, was stupid, slow, and had an obvious weakness.

The Undead Giant was a special rank E. It was smaller than a Cyclops, only about 8 feet tall, and could neither control nor revive zombies. Its danger was that these bastards were nearly impervious to physical attacks.

According to the monster bestiaries in the graveyard. A giant could not be killed by physical force. Tactically speaking, it should be burned or suffocated.

Without {Fate} magic or special weapons, it was impossible to kill. Based on this information alone, my mind raced to find a way to slay this fucker.

Guns were basically kinetic weapons. Besides grenades, I had nothing else. In the back of my mind, I made a mental note to research weapons that would supplement my lopsided fighting style.

\'Time is running out, I have to get to them before the Normies or the giant find them. But how will I defeat the giant? I have some tracer bullets, but I doubt they will do much good.\'

Tracer rounds are bullets that had a solution on the bullet that heats up when fired. This causes the bullet to glow, allowing gunners to see their bullets in flight.

This compound could cause fires under the right circumstances. I put my doubts aside and focused on bringing good news to the two buried underground.

"I have a bag of {Heal} tablets. You can eat them like candy when we get you out. I also have 20 McDonald\'s Big Macs. So don\'t die on me. I even managed to get some German beer from my last mission."

[That would be just right. Come and get us John, I am dying of hunger,] Mike pleaded.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys are slave drivers. I haven\'t even hired you yet, but here I am digging through a devastated ruin with nothing but my hands."

[Hombre, just get me out of here and I will be worth every penny].

There was a loud crash as some of the debris I was removing collapsed into the ground like a sinkhole. As the rocks and stones settled, a shadowy opening appeared. There was no sound or air coming through the hole. Just silent darkness.

"Santiago, Mike. I dug out the tunnel. Hold on, I will be with you soon. {Draw} AR-15."

I turned on the flashlight attached to the AR-15 and began my descent into absolute darkness.

Unlike my previous battles, this place was pitch black. The other zones all had various sources of light throughout the battle. Cloudy skies for the Lone House and Isolde\'s Place, while torches or burning zombie pits for the Fort and the Plains.

As if fighting in tight corners was not enough, I also had to fight in piss poor lighting. On my way down, I passed stone arches and roads. The materials for the walls and supports reminded me of dwarven mines from fiction.

Ignoring my distracted thoughts, I swept the AR-15 from side to side as I descended the stairs.

"Hmm. The moment I fired, the echoes would reverberate throughout the place. Worse, the confined nature of this place would render me deaf to the gunfire.

"I could just use it to draw the undead, but until I know where Santiago and Mike are, it would be risky."

Fortunately, despite the thousands of rounds fired, each {Rewind} or {Regen} healed my ears. Most modern infantry become partially deaf because it is impossible to remain unscathed when exposed to loud gunfire.

They normally wore military peltors, which were basically earplugs or headsets that connected to command\'s central communication system. This would allow the soldiers to block out the gunfire but still be able to hear the critical updates from their teams.

Some of them even have the ability to increase environmental awareness. giving the soldiers superior hearing. Provided their countries could afford the money for them.

"{Thief} cancel, {Dampen}, {Aim}, {Snipe}, {Withstand}, {Carry}."

With more souls to spare, I canceled my {Kismet} and used my basic {Fates} on the AR-15. {Dampen} to protect my hearing, {Aim} and {Snipe} so I could shoot well even in {Fighter}. {Withstand} for the recoil and {Carry} for the weight.

{Carry} and {Withstand} cost 50 souls, Aim 100, while {Snipe} and {Dampen} were worth 250 each.

"That\'s 700 souls or $14,000 for an AR-15. {Thief}," I commented.

Since even high-end AR-15 rifles only cost around $3,000, my souped-up AR-15 was definitely one hell of an expensive custom. The only way to prove it was worth the expense was for the gun to earn its keep.

Soon I hear skittering footsteps and a low growl.

"Santiago, Mike. I have encountered the enemy, they are attempting to come towards me. I will be firing gunshots."

[Roger that, John. We will head there immediately].

Like a moth to a flame, the zombies noticed my presence and began to growl loudly. Not one to wait, I put a Normie\'s face in my sights and fired. 5.56 FMJs then made quick work of my target\'s skull.

Riding my high for all it was worth, I turned the AR-15 to the right and used my 45 degree mounted red dot sight to find my next target.

"Zombie meet bullet."

Most people debate which was the best sight. The AR platform had red dots, scopes, and holographic sights, and while each had its own purpose, it ultimately depended on what the gun was going to be used for.

My father copied the setups of most Special Forces units. Their approach was simple: find a way to fight at all distances. To combine the ability to fight at long range and close quarters, the most common approach was to mount two different scopes on your MBR.

A long range scope would be mounted in line with your iron sights and a red dot or holographic sight would be mounted to the side of your rifle at 45 degrees.

This dual optic setup would allow you to use the scope for long range, then rotate the rifle at 45 degrees to shift the weapon to a different target in a snap.

If the target was farther away and you needed more precision, you would right the rifle and use the scope again. Done correctly, this would save you the time of zooming out the scope for the target and zooming in for your shots.

I drilled myself immensely on this particular behavior. The results were evident when I could change targets in less than a second and still have accuracy beyond 300 yards.

[We hear the gunshots Hombre, we are coming to you now.]

Normies dropped like flies as I made my way forward. Without the deafening sound of my gunshots, I could immediately hear the footfalls of the zombies coming to kill me.

This set of {fates} worked really well, as the rifle had increased accuracy, zero recoil, no noise when used, and was lighter than a pistol.

When my gun ran out of ammo, I ejected the magazine, inserted a fresh one, and pressed the bolt release. It only took a few seconds to reload, and I was back to raining freedom on the undead that came after me.

Despite the zombies\' best efforts, the narrow corridors prevented them from overrunning me. At our current pace, I was dropping them faster than they could reach me.

That was until I saw the figure of the undead giant. Or otherwise known as the ultimate bullet sponge.

"Well shit."


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