This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 566: Bloody Battle in the Jungle!

Chapter 566: Chapter 566: Bloody Battle in the Jungle!

Waves of Mutant Soldiers charged at the Jungle Corps, their beast-like roars and the clanging collision with metal shaking the entire forest.

"Charge!! Use your sticks and hammers to smash them into flesh mud!!"

"Ogg!!!"

Yelling at the top of his lungs, Ogg urged his subordinates to move forward.

However, before long, a Mutant Sentinel staggered out of the woods, his face pale with panic, reporting to him.

"Captain Gulu is dead! More than half of his brothers are casualties—"

Before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by an irate roar.

"Waste!!"

With fists clenched, Ogg’s eyes bulged with rage, the whites threaded with blood, and his red gums seemed to grind out blood.

There were only about twenty people opposite!

No matter where such a small number of humans were placed, they could be submerged in minutes, not even enough to get stuck in his brothers’ teeth!

But now—

His command of over five hundred brothers was being staunchly held back by these twenty people, even losing a Centurion!

To him, this was an immense dishonor!

"These buckets of rice! Worse than pigs!"

As Ogg roared in anger, a bloodthirsty howl pierced through the forest, and the area ahead seemed as if it had been hit by a shell, stirring up clouds of dust.

The twenty or thirty Mutant Warriors who were previously sent in seemed to be struck head-on by the howl, causing everyone to halt in their steps.

Subconsciously raising his arm to block the dust, Ogg looked in the direction of the noise, just in time to see two Mutant Warriors being chopped in half at the waist!

And the two machine guns they were holding had not even had the chance to fire before they were smashed into pieces by the swooping claws!

His green pupils suddenly contracted as Ogg’s gaze met those amber pupils.

It was a formidable Claw of Death, its body clad in a mechanical exoskeleton, its hot breath distorting the bloodlust and excitement in its pupils.

It was like a hungry velociraptor that had finally found its moment to enter, vibrating with excitement at the imminent hunt.

And most unbelievably, this Variant could speak human language!

Ogg was momentarily dumbfounded.

Mind interference... Wasn’t that a technique of their allies, the Torch Church?!

"Welcome death!!"

Facing the charging Mutant Warriors, Junk Lord had no intention of dodging; with an excited battle roar, he brandished his claws and charged.

The two most threatening Gunmen had been dealt with by him.

Next was the Mutant holding a shotgun; just as he aimed, he was whipped away by a tail, followed by another claw strike that pierced straight through his heart.

"Ogh—!"

The Mutant cried out in pain, grabbed Junk Lord’s claws with both hands, his muscles coalescing into lumps.

With the Mutants’ almost aberrant wound healing ability, some stronger ones could even recover from a bullet-shattered heart.

But if it was completely ripped out—

That was another matter.

"Die for me!!"

The claw plunged into the chest squeezed tight, and with a "pfft," a burst of blood mist and flesh spewed from the Mutant’s thoracic cavity.

Staring dead-eyed at the Claw of Death before it, the emerald pupils gradually lost their ferocity, and the burly arms also lost their strength.

"Three!!"

With a cruel smirk at the corner of his mouth, Junk Lord violently withdrew his right claw, dropping the corpse and then charging towards the next target.

The targeted Mutant’s eyes flashed with panic; he fired his assault rifle in a hurry, but Junk Lord, moving as quick as lightning, dodged low and with an upward swipe of a claw, shaved off the entire jaw.

The Mutant Soldiers nearby raised their guns to aid, but surrounded by their own kind, they couldn’t aim precisely at the swift figure.

In the breath of a few moments, two more Mutants, lacking arms and legs, fell in a piteous state.

Thick blood completely dyed Junk Lord red, even the misty breath he exhaled seemed to carry a stench of rusty iron.

His breathing was heavy, but without a trace of fatigue; instead, the ferocity and battle lust burning in his pupils grew even more intense.

"Six!"

The surrounding Mutant Warriors were stunned by this ferocious beast, anger and horror twisting their dark green faces.

Even in those savage, bloodthirsty, and fearless eyes, a hint of cowardice and fear finally emerged...

These half-human, half-demon creatures were more ferocious than they were!

Their pride in their strength and bravery crumbled before these beings; even their numbers couldn’t overpower them.

Even a flicker of unnoticed panic crossed Ogg’s face for a moment.

"You fools, you outnumber them by dozens! A spit from each of you could drown that reptile!"

"Charge up! All of you, charge!"

"Roar—!"

Hearing the leader’s urgent roar, the mutant warriors, who had hesitated for a moment, finally rekindled their courage to kill.

They were born hunters, and even more so, born warriors!

To them, battle and honor were as vital as life itself!

They would not be frightened by a mere handful of tough prey!

Using roars to dispel the instinctual fear, the heavily armored infantry stepped forward, using steel plates as thick as thumbs and batons wrapped with iron wire to block the whooshing steel claws.

Then a few light infantry rushed in with shotguns, continuously firing at the Claw of Death. Although it was difficult to aim, they managed to restrict its movement with their spray of buckshot.

"Tsk—"

These green-skins had some skills indeed.

After completing twelve kills, Trash Lord finally felt a bit strained and cast a glance in the direction of Midnight Chicken Killing.

The close combat carnage continued.

Brother Chicken swung his axe wildly, hacking away. Next to him lay a few green-skinned corpses indistinct to sight, but the sticky bloodstains made the ferocity of the battle easy to imagine.

Jungle Corps had already lost more than half of their forces!

Although the mutants had left nearly a hundred bodies behind, there were still over three hundred remaining, and the numerical disparity between the two sides remained vast, growing ever more disadvantageous for the Jungle Corps.

"Nineteen—!"

After crushing a greenish skull, Trash Lord withdrew his gradually numb claws and began searching for his next prey with amber pupils when suddenly, a blast of wind slammed from the side.

Relying on his combat instincts, he ducked and with the corner of his eye, caught sight of half an Iron Wall exoskeleton crashing heavily into the tree trunk behind him, legs dangling from the branches, shaking, with intestines and chunks of flesh spilled on the ground like a leaking bag of blood.

The remaining half was grasped in the hand of a giant.

He was nearly four meters tall with a bald head, hands as big as car doors, dark steel seemingly embedded into his body, adorned with several tubes, a black tower standing in the forest.

Even Trash Lord, standing straight, seemed minuscule in front of him. Although his pupils were dilated, drool hung from the corner of his mouth, and ragged, uneven teeth even protruded outside, no one would doubt the strength beneath those swelling muscles.

"Pee—do—"

That drawn-out roar seemed to be his name.

In the Qi Tribe, only the bravest warriors were granted names by the leader, and those names were not just their handles and honors but their totems as well!

They would shout their names to their opponents in duels and torture them to death in the cruelest ways, bathing in their blood to worship the totems given by their leaders, and having their victims’ souls chant their names, carrying the glory of victory back to the land of the "Ancestors."

All this was written in the official setting collection on the website!

The giant mutant bit off the head of the body in his hand, shaking it to let the blood pour over his head and chest while crunching noisily, as if he were munching on some sort of arthropod.

Perhaps fearing accidental injury by the big guy, the two-meter-tall mutants around him stepped back, huffing and puffing, clearing an open space around him.

The fighting in the forest was gradually subsiding, and more reinforcements were still making their way from behind. Although bodies were piled up in the woods like little hills, the outcome of the battle was no longer in question.

They were determined to kill the Lizard in the most brutal way possible, using its blood to showcase their valor and ruthlessness.

They roared crudely, cheering and fueling their Warrior’s fervor.

Hearing that jumble of roars and urgencies, the massive Mutant who stood there foolishly slowly moved its Skull, fixing its gaze on the scar-riddled Lizard.

Those pupils, swirling voids, just locking eyes with it was enough to involuntarily send a shiver through the soul and a haze over the mind.

Watching that guy feast merrily, Trash King’s scalp tingled, but his amber pupils were devoid of any hint of fear, instead filled with a blazing rage.

The twentieth—

You’ll do!

His legs burst with strength as he darted toward the giant Mutant like Lightning, his claws targeting the guy’s knees and ankles.

The bigger they are, the harder it is to control their balance!

Just take out this guy’s legs—

The scales of victory would then tip in his favor!

A chilling flash of light, yet the sensation of a blade cutting through flesh did not follow.

Trash King felt a numbness in his forearm and around the bowl-sized wound, as if his steel claws had struck iron instead of flesh.

In the instant he passed by the hulking figure, glimpsing its back, his face shifted to one of shock.

"Holy fuck—?!"

What the hell is this?!

A steel spine protruded from the back’s flesh, and three glass jars were embedded in the center of the spine, sloshing with a yellow-green unknown solution.

At the ankle and knee he’d just clawed at, the moss-green skin was healing at a visible rate, and he could clearly see that beneath the skin was not flesh but some sort of alloy!

"Pu—do—"

A dull, low growl, like the blast of a ship’s horn, erupted from the giant Mutant, giving him no time to think as it swung the headless torso it held, sweeping towards him.

No slowness in its speed!

Escape was impossible from such extreme proximity!

He took the hit squarely; already covered in wounds, Trash King was sent flying, crashing with a thud against the wobbling tree trunk.

If those burly green-skinned fellows swarmed him now, even with three heads and six arms he couldn’t fend them off, but it seemed they were certain of his certain death, not rushing in but instead backing away, leaving him in the center of the Open Space.

Letting out a grim low groan, Trash King struggled to his feet, unable to tell whether the Exoskeleton had failed or if it was his own joints.

At least three nameless bones were broken, his left arm was nearly senseless, and though his "Physical Regeneration" Talent was slowly working, his body was close to its limit, rendering the meager healing speed almost negligible.

"Motherfucker... that really hurt!" He coughed, spewing a mouthful of blood, trying to lift a claw, but his vision was greeted with an alert.

[Warning! Drive joint damage at 85%, it is recommended to disengage.]

"So annoying!"

Warnings were flashing on his tactical goggles. Gritting his teeth, Junklord reached for the pull ring inside his abdomen with his right claw and yanked it out fiercely.

The breastplate and shoulder guards burst outward, and the exoskeleton that had enveloped him, like an umbrella snapping open, was now completely freeing his body while becoming scrap.

Seeing what was unfolding before him, the giant mutant halted its advancing steps, a hint of surprise surfacing in its dull eyes.

Junklord glanced at the debris scattered around him. Although it pained him to see the wreckage, there was not a hint of regret in his heart. His fighting spirit undiminished, he squared off against the monstrosity, his claws dripping with blood plasma.

"Come on! Let’s have a painful—"

"Ooooh!"

His words were barely out when an explosive battle roar interrupted him mid-sentence.

A dark shadow leaped into the air, landing behind the giant mutant and striking down harshly with two axes.

"Roar—!"

Taking two solid axe hits on its back, the giant mutant let out a pained roar, swinging its right arm to knock the assailant flying before stumbling and crashing to the side, the mountainous body causing the ground to tremble upon impact.

The surrounding flunkies were all stunned, forgetting to cheer or shout, and stood frozen.

They hadn’t expected to find a human still alive, let alone one who would willingly leap into their midst to disrupt their sacred "blood sacrifice."

"Brother Chicken?!" Junklord exclaimed in astonishment at the sight of the blood-soaked Midnight Chicken Killing.

The man’s helmet was completely shattered, his breastplate marred with pockmarks and dimples from impacts, and his shoulder bore a gash of horrifying proportions.

Surrounding the tear, the whole shoulder plate was caved in, as if cleaved by an axe or some other heavy weapon.

Junklord could imagine that he must have been knocked unconscious by a mutant’s axe, collapsing onto the ground with a thud.

Perhaps the mutant thought he was dead and didn’t bother to finish him off, hurrying over here instead to join the commotion.

"Help me!"

Midnight Chicken Killing yelled, discarding his broken logging axe and hastily grabbed a club strung with blades on wire, charging back into the fray. He began savagely beating the giant mutant that was trying to rise from the ground, targeting its forehead.

"Woah—!"

The blades were smashed and bent, and the giant mutant let out a pained, angry roar.

Before it could get up, its face was bombarded with a merciless flurry of blows, its nose and eyes merging into a gruesome visage of bloody red.

Midnight Chicken Killing, drawing on all his strength for a final blow, was sent flying with a painful thrust to his flank.

Og, stepping into the battlefield, had just rescued the whimpering Pido and was about to deliver a final shot to the human, when a shadow swift as lightning flicked past him.

Og instinctively dodged, only to see that the razor-sharp claw was not coming for him but was chasing after Pido, who was clumsily retreating with his hands over his eyes.

"No!!!!"

His face went pale with horror, realizing it was too late to intervene.

Those claws, like the tines of a plow, struck with brutal force, burrowing into Pido’s thick throat from both sides, gripping the blood vessels, windpipe, and spine.

Then, the lizard yanked back with tremendous force!

"Sschhlit—"

The sound of ripping flesh, laced with a nauseating squelch, stood out starkly in the silent battlefield.

Pido, missing most of his throat and spine, had his massive head lose support and slump onto his back, with only a piece of metal bar left jutting out grotesquely.

Blood gushed out like a fountain, spreading across the central battlefield. The small mountain-like giant mutant slowly knelt down, its knees sinking deeply into the earth.

An eerie silence fell over the entire scene.

Pairs of greenish eyes were fixed on the one man, one lizard, in the center of the battlefield, and their leader who was gradually collapsing along with Pido.

"Twenty..."

Glancing back at Midnight Chicken Killing collapsed on the ground, Junklord chuckled, "Sorry, brother, but I had my eye on that kill first."

Midnight Chicken Killing rolled his eyes, panting as he spoke.

"Sixteen... you win."

Counting the previous volley of fire, perhaps it could have reached twenty or thirty.

But the mutants’ regenerative abilities were too strong, and he wasn’t sure whether those who had fallen were really dead; he’d have to check the drone’s aerial footage after logging off.

The only certainty he had was that those with their heads chopped off by him were definitely not going to live.

Anyway, he had done his best.

At that moment, someone shouted, and the surrounding mutants surged forward, chopping up Junklord, who stood beside the fallen giant mutant, into mincemeat on the spot.

Seeing Junklord gloriously log off, Midnight Chicken Killing also planned to disconnect. But just then, he saw that cyborg mutant, who looked like a boss, approaching him.

Being captured alive could be slightly inconvenient.

So he stopped his preparations to log off to see what this guy intended to do.

At the least,

He’d have to find a way to make him kill him.

Raising his hand to stop the mutant warriors from chopping him into pieces, the grotesque mutant leader approached and stopped in front of him, looking down at him from on high.

"Name?"

"Hehe..." Midnight Chicken Killing smirked from the corner of his mouth, spitting a mouthful of bloody saliva onto his leg, "Your daddy."

Wait.

I’ll be back!

The expression on Ogre’s face gradually turned cold as he extended his right hand, which was like a pair of iron pincers, to grip Midnight Chicken Killing’s skull. His fingers suddenly began to exert force.

Midnight Chicken Killing looked on indifferently, his eyes carrying a hint of provocation, as if to say, "Is that all?"

Watching those eyes, Ogre became completely enraged and snapped, his thumb and index finger digging cruelly into Midnight Chicken Killing’s temples and forcefully tearing away the skull around the eye socket, flesh and all.

Yet until the very end, the man didn’t utter a sound, his gaze mocking Ogre until his dying breath.

Crushing the eyeballs and bones in his hand, Ogre’s face was emotionless, but inside he was both shocked and furious.

These human things...

What the hell is going on!

He suddenly regretted letting himself be provoked by this man. If he had taken him back to be tortured with the tribe’s instruments of punishment, he might have gotten some information out of him.

Now, all he had was a white glistening brain and a lump of sticky flesh...

At that moment, a sentry clad in beast skin ran over, puffing and panting, and knelt on one knee before him.

"Ogre!"

Ogre looked at him with a cold face.

"Speak."

Feeling the chill from that icy gaze, the Mutant Sentinel’s shoulders involuntarily shivered as he hastily muttered his report.

"There are no bipeds left in town, nor quadrupeds; residents have disappeared, houses are empty, and the Apostle from The Church has not been found..."

Before he could finish, an injured Centurion approached, bowing his head.

"Ogre... we’ve lost two hundred twenty, and fifty are severely wounded. Also, a Centurion, a big guy, and five vehicles."

"Ah!!! Aaahhh—!"

Ogre, unable to contain his fury any longer, roared out loud, throwing back his head in rage.

He had never been so humiliated!

Five or six hundred brothers had been whittled down by over two hundred, all by a mere couple dozen foes!

Even more unbearable for him was the fact that the human who had killed his brother and was wearing power armor had not shown up at all from the beginning to the end!

He could already see the mocking faces within the tribe.

The surrounding trees rustled, and the whole forest seemed to tremble under his thunderous rage.

Veins bulging on his neck, he turned to the kneeling sentinel beside him and bellowed a command.

"Burn the village! Leave not a single house standing!"

"At once!" The sentinel quickly obeyed, scrambling to his feet and running off.

Still not pacified, Ogre glared ominously at the Centurion in front of him, gasping for breath as he asked,

"Where’s the nearest village?"

The Centurion responded with a round voice.

"Town of Hope, thirty kilometers to the east!"

"Follow me!"

Ogre looked at the henchmen around him and continued to bellow, "Flatten them! Let those two-legged beasts cry and scream and run away! Tell them who really owns this place!"

Although that place was already a district of the Torch Church and also a sheepfold for the tribe, Ogre was furious!

He had lost so many brothers; he had to bring back at least four hundred heads to silence those who mocked him and to please the great leader!

He would kill until it was enough!

Nobody could persuade him otherwise!

"What about those corpses?" the Centurion looked up at his leader, his face eager for orders.

Those guys had a different flavor than the two-legged beasts that could only run away!

He drooled with anticipation.

And his leader did not disappoint.

"Keep the heads, cook the rest! Ogre wants to be well-fed before going head chopping!" Ogre roared, and the surrounding Mutants cheered excitedly.

"Awoo, awoo, awoo!"

Dusty Town was ablaze, smoke billowing into the sky.

What a pity that the residents had already fled; they couldn’t feast on the mountains of corpses and seas of bones.

A group of Mutants ran huffing and puffing towards the truck, removing the large pots and cooking utensils tied to the vehicle. Nearby the forest, they brazenly started fires without inhibition.

The pot bubbled, and barbaric heads blubbered, the songs in an incomprehensible language carried a chill that was hard to describe.

It was like the scent of coagulated blood.

At that moment, the group of green-skinned beings feasting together had not noticed that up on a nearby hillside, a pair of dark green pupils were silently watching them, then quietly slipped back into the shadows of the forest, as if they had never been there...

...

(Thank you to "Yuele" and "Makabakamo" for the generous rewards!!!)