Chapter 208: Strongest Player
- Shelter City 8 -
A harsh wind blew in from the north, sweeping across the land and dragging a wall of yellow-stained clouds behind it. The sky ruptured with a deafening crack, spilling a torrential downpour as if the heavens themselves were trying to drown the rot below.
The rain hammered the high concrete walls, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of war.
Below, a relentless wave of mutants surged forward. Twisted, humanoid figures tore through the downpour, their segmented, armor-like skin glinting faintly beneath the darkened sky. Though lean in form, their presence carried a violent urgency. They moved with feral speed, sprinting toward the walls in silence. Some leapt upward and began to climb, claws punching into rain-soaked concrete as if it offered no resistance. Shards of stone broke away and crashed down behind them, but nothing slowed their assault.
On the ramparts above, STF soldiers fired relentlessly. Heavy rounds clattered against the monsters’ plated hides, sparking on impact or ricocheting off with a hollow metallic thud. Even armor-piercing bullets only staggered them for a moment before they rose again, seemingly unfazed.
Explosives were no better. RPGs struck the ground in bursts of fire and smoke, shredding limbs and armor, yet they were far from lethal. Despite the damage, more mutants kept coming. They surged forward through the devastation like an unstoppable force, unyielding and blind to fear or pain.
And as the storm raged on, the defenders stood their ground, fingers clenched around their weapons, knowing full well that every second bought was paid for in blood.
Somewhere atop the high walls stood four figures, tense and watchful—detached from the chaos of battle, yet deeply connected to every moment.
"You keeping us here won’t change anything," the only woman among them said. Her crimson hair, damp from the rain, clung to her face, and her piercing red eyes tracked the mutants climbing ever higher on the walls. She stood clad in a sleek black tactical uniform, rain streaking across the fabric.
Though she looked the youngest of the group, an unmistakable aura surrounded her—one born only from leadership and battle-hardened experience. Behind her, two other players stood rigid, waiting for orders. Their eyes held nothing but agreement with her words.