Players Invade Cyberpunk

Originally, players thought that the grenade launcher was already over the top, but they didn't expect the power of this air-dropped bomb to be even more astounding.

Previously, watching a video of Big Mao tossing a 2000-pound air bomb at Little Mao that blew up a building, it seemed just okay.

Only when you find yourself within the blast range, do you feel that helplessness when humans face this kind of destructive weapon.

Don't even mention human flesh; even MT-1 crumbles like paper in front of this thing. No wonder most infantry casualties in the first and second wars were caused by artillery.

The players caught in this air-dropped express delivery one by one climbed up from the ground; many were flipped over, rolled a long way on the ground, and ended up with a mouthful of dirt.

Fortunately, the air bomb didn't fall on their side, so there were no casualties, though the Chaotic Blade Association lost quite a few people in the explosion.

Youzi Chef, pulling himself out of a pile of loose soil, quickly looked towards the explosion.

The giant head must be dead beyond any doubt; he had completed his delivery mission with his life.

The key is how much damage this wave of attacks did to the BOSS.

But the center of the battlefield is covered by black smoke, making it impossible to see what's inside.

He complained: "Damn... won't they do the no-smoke-no-damage trick?"

"Pff, pff, pff, go take a look, won't you?"

Natural Curl, wearing exoskeleton armor, had no way to get the dirt out of his mouth, so he just kept spitting it out.

"This crap, I'm not wearing it anymore!"

Anyway, the exoskeleton is deformed, making movement inconvenient. If it weren't to protect himself from stray bullets on the battlefield, Natural Curl wouldn't be wearing this thing. Now there's a perfect excuse to take it off, so with the help of Youzi Chef, he disarmed, returning to freedom.

The pungent and boiling air filled the players' noses; they endured the uncomfortable feeling of breathing difficulties, crossing through the persistent smoke to get near the explosion site.

The ground beneath their feet smoked black; even through the thick soles, they could feel the almost scorching heat. They were stunned by the sight of a giant black crater over ten meters wide and seven to eight meters deep.

"Nuke, did someone drop a nuke?"

"Arrowhead, did you friggin' shortchange my 500KG? This isn't how it was in the game! The Super Earth cheats us with underpowered explosives; with this power, ten Titans should be dead."

"I'll never diss the French again, damn, how did they hold up in the war?"

The players argued noisily, but luckily they hadn't forgotten their objective; Youzi Chef mentioned,

"Right, where's the BOSS? Did the BOSS get one-shotted?"

Everyone immediately began searching for that mechanical crab in God Mode nearby. Meanwhile, not a single Chaotic Blade Association member dared to approach the previous bombing range, and even their morale, fueled by cash, hit an unprecedented low.

After all, those were missiles!

Although their flight speed was a bit slow and trajectories abstract, their power was genuine. Even if not many people were killed by two missiles, it was enough to scare a lot of people's guts out. Who knows how many of those big killers are left in those maniacs' hands?

The original situation went from possibly dying to certain death, and they no longer had the courage to charge at the players' position. Even the penal units were useless because they themselves were scared stiff, just like the rest of the Chaotic Blade Association, unsure if they should continue attacking.

"Here it is! The BOSS crashed!"

Without interference from the Chaotic Blade Association, players soon found Great Mount Pill in a nearby depression, half buried in loose soil, legs-up, completely motionless, seemingly dead.

A mecha-lover among the players commented suggestively,

"Laying there with legs spread open like that, so suggestive."

"Damn, dude, why are your kinks so strange?"

"My kink is strange? My kink is totally normal, okay? What's weird about it?"

Ignoring these bizarre comments, the players didn't spot any obvious damage on this war machine.

They looked at each other, but soon someone bravely slid down the slope, jumping next to Great Mount Pill to investigate its damage—or rather, its health bar.

Clang, clang, clang!

Wig tapped its leg with the rifle butt.

"Hey, are you asleep? Trash, trash, really a trash robot, knocked out with just a couple of hits."

His bratty remark made many players make vomiting gestures; indeed, that kind of thing is only charming when said by a cute Lolita; anyone else saying it would make fists fly.

Clang—

Perhaps his comments irritated Great Mount Pill. The robot, which had ceased activity, began moving again; its stout mechanical legs rotated 180 degrees at the spherical joints, flipping its entire body upright.

"?"

Wig, standing beside it, was completely dumbfounded.

What's this?

Phase Two?

Damn, they couldn't even break through Phase One defense, and now it's Phase Two, are they even playing anymore?

However, the situation wasn't as bad as the players feared, because under a sufficiently "realistic" physics engine, damage is damage; new weapons and equipment don't just materialize out of nowhere.

Great Mount Pill's system diagnostic was flashing red like crazy, as even the toughest shell couldn't protect its internals from the shock waves and vibrations.

[Hull integrity 43% detected]

[Fire-control radar damaged]