Chapter 94: The Fierce Battle with the Whirlwind Team (Second Update)

Wang Long, gripping a coiled dragon club and boasting a sturdy, well-fed frame; Tao Xian, his face twisted in a sinister grin as he stroked the eight-character mustache on his upper lip; Chen Heng, his arms bound by a meteor chain that made his bulging muscles strain; and Lan Yue, clad in flowing pink silk attire that made her look lively and enchanting.

Four kung fu masters had all been summoned into the fray.

"Thank you all for clearing out the zombies here and sweeping this battlefield clean." Wang Ling's words, spoken with a smile, brought dark scowls to the faces of the three Tempest Squad members.

While the Tempest Squad mopped up the remaining zombies, Wang Ling took a moment to rest at a distance, his stamina already restored from the earlier chase. The three had first pursued relentlessly and then hacked down more of the undead, draining their energy further; now they all panted heavily, their conditions poor.

"In the face of absolute power, any clever tricks are useless."

Amid cold laughter, Aaron suddenly crouched low and launched into a headlong sprint, his momentum like that of a car accelerating at full throttle, the very earth seeming to tremble beneath his charge. The force carried the raw power of the fat soldier's signature "cannonball" slam from the game.

This was the soldier's skill: the charge.

In the game, even a thick wall could be smashed by a fat soldier's charge. Aaron's strength far exceeded those of the common soldiers, and the impact of his charge was beyond imagining—it might as well have been a small car.

Facing such a brutal collision, evasion might have seemed the wiser path. Yet Wang Long stepped forward, extending the club in his hand to meet the oncoming charge. The move was ruthlessly cunning; if Aaron plowed ahead, he would first slam into the unyielding head of the one-hundred-forged iron club, and the harder the impact, the greater the peril.

Remember, there was no damage reduction when attacking summoned characters, and summoned characters dealt no damage reduction when attacking him.

The iron club loomed before them, but Aaron ignored it and kept charging headfirst. At that instant, Wang Ling cried out sharply, "Wang Long, dodge—it's—"

Before the words could finish, a black spherical object hurtled through the air and landed at Wang Long's feet.

It was a grenade!

"BOOM!"

The explosion lifted Wang Long's massive body with the force of the blast. The coiled dragon club in his grip could not hold its forward extension. Aaron, still charging, collided squarely with the suspended bulk of this great man.

"Die!"

Aaron roared viciously. He was a Dreamer, and the grenade was a disposable item thrown by Ke Li, also a Dreamer. The weakening of the peaceful scene reduced both the explosive damage and the incoming shockwave by nine-tenths, a rule of the game; the remaining tenth of the impact could only inflict less than ten points of life damage—something he could easily withstand.

Dealing such damage to eliminate one of the opponent's summoned characters was a profitable exchange. The more summoned foes slain at the outset, the lighter the ensuing battle and the brighter the chance of victory.

What precise coordination! If Ke Li had lobbed the grenade a single second earlier, the charge would have missed the body blown skyward by the blast. If a second later, Aaron would have crashed directly into the club head. Such teamwork could only have been forged through countless hours and painstaking effort in the training ground.

Bearing most of the grenade's explosive fury and struck by the skill, Wang Long let out a pained grunt. Yet his physique specialty and recent level gain had boosted his attributes and life; he would not be one-shot like the previous Dark Warrior, only losing roughly one-third of his health.

From the battlefield's perspective, however, Wang Long looked utterly wretched. Shrapnel from the grenade had embedded in his belly, and the shockwave had flung him into a second brutal collision, spraying blood from his mouth.

"Fifth Brother!"

The Tyrant Clan had sworn brotherhood, as close as blood. Seeing Wang Long wounded, they roared in fury. Chen Heng whipped out the star chain; the links coiled around Wang Long like living serpents, then yanked him back, preventing Aaron's follow-up heavy punches from the charge.

Lan Yue stamped her foot on the ground and shot straight up more than three meters, delivering a high kick toward Aaron's temple. Tao Xian twisted his hands into a cross shape, stepped forward, and the tendons in his arms twitched as he unleashed the bursting force of the cross strike, slamming it into Aaron's lower dantian.

But then another grenade came flying!

The grenade dealt minimal damage to Dreamers; under the peaceful-scene penalty, Aaron's strength allowed him to tank the blast and shockwave, yet it dealt full damage to summoned characters—indeed, a perfect weapon against these kung fu masters.

In truth, every grenade thrown bled Ke Li's heart. In the junior district, firearms were rare treasures; the value of grenades was beyond measure. Grenades were disposable items of maximum power that could wound even E-difficulty BOSSes. The Tempest Squad had once wandered the Ninja Turtles world, slaying who-knew-how-many mobs with grenades to collect eight that could be carried out.

Three grenades had already been spent on the previous task, leaving only five. Each one spent was a heavy loss.

Still, the Tempest Squad had received intelligence that Wang Ling's four kung fu summons were extraordinarily strong; even one-on-one they might duel any Tempest member. They could not afford to let the fight reach a stalemate without killing one or two at the start—numbers were already against them.

Even if all five grenades were expended, killing Wang Ling would still turn the loss of these consumables into a net gain. Beyond the spoils of victory, they would also receive generous rewards from the half-beastman team: Wisak's full set of four gene potions and a bottle of strong beastman bloodline development potion.

Moreover, completing the task would earn them praise from their master, the Riot Team.

The grenade's shockwave ripped outward; Tao Xian's cross strike had not yet landed before the wild wind hurled him away like a plastic bag!

Gud leaped forward and charged, legs weaving in a blur, delivering a heart-piercing leg kick that struck Tao Xian solidly. The yoga master could normally reduce damage by regulating his muscles, but the grenade had scattered his qi and blood beyond control. Struck on the side by the heart-piercing leg, two ribs snapped with a sickening crack.

Lan Yue, flying through the air with light kung fu and leg arts, lost her balance from the shockwave. Two iron-pliers-like hands seized her ankles. Aaron showed no mercy; laughing wildly, he activated the slam throw "back big throw," leaning his body backward and hurling Lan Yue toward the hard brown earth behind them.

The courtyard grass had long since been replaced by compacted, iron-hard brown soil. This mud, though not as unyielding as concrete, was close enough. If Aaron had flipped her headfirst into it the way he had handled the big man earlier, with her agility specialty and life below one hundred, she might have been instantly killed.

Lan Yue struggled in mid-air, feet locked in the iron grip. She swept her waist with one hand; five plum blossom darts flashed into her palms. With a swing of both arms, cold light flashed, and every dart buried itself in Aaron's face.

"Ahhh—!"

The darts struck with pinpoint accuracy. Aaron's left eye and right eye were both pierced; the eyeballs burst instantly, spilling turbid white-and-blue fluid. The nose was sliced open along the midline by the darts' sharp edges, white cartilage and red flesh laid bare. The pain drove the big man to roar in fury.

His actions did not stop. Still clutching Lan Yue, he hurled her backward. The pain only fueled his rage, unleashing even greater strength.

Pain twisted Lan Yue's face. She felt her ankles about to snap under the crushing grip, and worse, she was being slammed downward toward the earth—death seemed certain.

Aaron's charge suddenly halted. Still leaning backward, he was struck by a turtle-shell item that slid across the ground, interrupting the half-executed slam throw and triggering a beautiful heart-shaped light bomb that drifted toward him, glowing with faint pink light.

"Puff!"

The pink heart, seemingly harmless, struck Aaron's head, then gently exploded. Countless tiny pink light dots scattered. Aaron, enveloped by the glow, felt as though a giant fist had smashed into him; his body was hurled sideways.

To understand the power, the pink heart's attack equated to Wang Ling's full-power punch. With equipment enhancement, Wang Ling's strength reached forty-six points. A fist under that force, even with peaceful-scene reduction, was enough to send a big man flying.

Yet Aaron's awareness remained razor-sharp. The moment he was launched, he refused to release his grip on Lan Yue's ankle. His sole target now was to utterly kill this agile girl.

"Heh!"

Lan Yue gave a soft cry. With both feet pinned, her body curled; she seized Aaron's hair with her left hand and then drove her right hand down like lightning twice.

Two thin streams of blood erupted. The plum blossom darts still lodged in Aaron's eyes were driven deeper into the sockets from the eye rims. The agony exceeded any ordinary person's endurance. Aaron roared in pain. His mental energy, already depleted by repeated skill use, could no longer activate the back throw. Terrified that Lan Yue would strike again, he gathered every ounce of strength and hurled her toward the distant ground.

The silver chain, driven by the metal hammer head, whipped through the air. Just as Lan Yue fell, it coiled around her waist. Chen Heng exhaled and yanked with both arms, pulling the second-ranked sister of the Tyrant Clan back.

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