dmims Chapter 68 Commissioner Smith's 5
Chapter 68 Commissioner Smith's 5
Chapter 62 Commissioner Smith's Fifty Million (Second Update)
"Hitting its head won't work! It's not human anymore! Don't use the same logic you use to fight zombies!"
Hendrix's roar echoed through the enclosed metal corridor, even drowning out the piercing alarm.
He maintained a standard tactical retreat while holding the gun with both hands, his index fingers pulling the trigger at an astonishing rate.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The orange flames spewing from the gun barrel flickered wildly in the darkness, each flash briefly illuminating the face that was contorted to an extreme degree.
The specially made hollow-point bullet precisely pierced the chest and forehead of the monster once known as Stevens.
The immense kinetic energy was released instantly, causing its shattered body to tremble violently. Black, putrid blood mixed with yellow lymph fluid splattered onto the metal wall behind it like a burst water pipe.
But this is meaningless.
Even with a fist-sized hole punched through its head, and half of its chest cavity torn to shreds by dumdum bullets, the monster did not stop for a moment.
Pain receptors? They were severed the moment the divine seal took over this body.
Fear? That's a luxury reserved for higher beings.
It let out a roar like a wild beast, a sound that seemed to tear its vocal cords, and brandished its pair of sharp bone blades, which were formed from the mutated bones of its ribs and ulna that had been forcibly pierced through its skin.
"Damn it! Its central nervous system isn't even in its brain! This thing's operating logic is distributed!"
Hendrix gritted his teeth, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
He spent fifteen years on the front lines of the Federal Bureau of Control (FBC), dealing with man-eating refrigerators and moldy people that constantly split themselves.
I've even wrestled with indescribable things in many parallel dimensions' "thresholds".
But the thing in front of him—this biological structure that evolved purely for killing—still made him feel nauseous.
Experience told him that when faced with this "alienation" that defied the common sense of carbon-based biology, the conventional "stopping action" was a complete joke.
You can't expect to shut down a machine that has no CPU and is driven entirely by hydraulic rods by destroying its brain.
Hendricks kicked aside the medical cart blocking his way, letting it slide towards the monster to slightly impede its attack. He then turned to the still-stunned geophysicist and roared, "This thing is powered by mutated muscle fibers and some kind of external energy! We must physically disable its mobility!"
"Either cut off its limbs, or be cut in half! Choose one!"
"Cut—cut off the limbs?"
Altman clutched the ridiculous solid steel pipe tightly in his hand, his mind blank.
"Are you kidding me? There's only one stick here! What am I supposed to cut it with? Bite it with my teeth?! Or try to win it over with love?"
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"Then let's figure something out! Use your high IQ! You're the scientist at this base, you know better than I where the big guys are!"
Hendrix fired three more shots, precisely severing one of the monster's waving fingers.
But to the monster, it was as insignificant as having its nails clipped, only slowing it down for less than half a second.
"My gun can only scratch the surface! We need cutting tools! High-powered ones! The kind that can cut through bone, bomb suits, and even rock!"
Cutting worker ———— High power ———— Level ————
Altman's brain was forced to operate at breakneck speed under extreme fear and adrenaline stimulation.
Countless lists of supplies and equipment catalogs flashed through his mind like slides.
Chainsaw? No, those are only in the repair shop, three zones away from here.
Laser scalpel? That's for the infirmary. The power is too low. It's okay for cutting skin, but too slow for cutting bone.
Heavy-duty hydraulic shears? Too heavy, I simply can't move them.
Suddenly, a seemingly insignificant fragment of memory struck him like a bolt of lightning piercing the darkness.
That was three months ago, when the base had just been established. He was passing by the supply warehouse in Area B when he overheard a conversation between two logistics personnel complaining about embezzlement, kickbacks, and expensive scrap metal.
"I remember now! It's in the geological sample processing room in Zone B! It's just around that corner!"
Altman abruptly raised his hand, pointing to a reinforced door at the end of the corridor marked with a yellow warning sign. His voice trembled with excitement, even cracking slightly: "There's a plasma cutter! I remember it clearly! It was a Type 211-V mining prototype, specially purchased from Schofield Tools Company, for collecting high-density rock samples around the Divine Seal!"
"Plasma cutter?"
Hendrix sidestepped, narrowly dodging one of the monster's bone blade sweeps.
The sharp bone spikes even tore through the surface of his tactical vest. He frowned and asked, "Aren't those things used to cut through mineral veins on asteroids? How did they end up here? This is the ocean floor, not outer space!"
"That purchasing agent, Smith! That damned corrupt official!"
As Altman raced after Hendricks, panting, he explained, his voice filled with hatred for bureaucracy and a hint of relief: "He spent tens of millions of dollars on a batch of these oversized industrial equipment under the guise of 'research necessities' to take kickbacks and squander the budget!"
In his report, he said it was for sampling special rocks under high pressure in the deep sea—but in reality, it was hardly ever used! Because nobody would use something that heavy! It's just been sitting idle in the warehouse collecting dust!
"Tens of millions of dollars—bought a bunch of mining tools that are just gathering dust in the warehouse?"
Hendrix's lips twitched violently.
He stopped abruptly, turned around, and kicked the monster hard in the knee joint.
With a "crack," a crisp sound came from the monster's reversed joints, and its body lost its balance and fell forward.
Using the recoil from that kick, Hendricks slid backward several meters, muttering under his breath, "Ha! Thank you, that greedy bastard Smith! Thank you, damn bureaucracy!"
If we were to erect a monument for him, we would definitely write the four big characters "Embezzlement Saves Lives" on the epitaph!
If the FBC had this kind of "wasteful" mentality, I wouldn't be fighting this thing with a bayonet while holding a small pistol!
The monster had gotten up again. The broken leg bone did not seem to affect its movement. It crawled on the ground on its hands and feet, and was even faster.
"Stop talking nonsense! Let's go!"
Hendrix emptied the last magazine, then used the bolt-locked pistol like a hammer to smash it hard into the face of the monster that lunged at him.
Taking advantage of the moment it turned its head, he grabbed Altman's collar tightly and shoved him through the hatch marked [B-04] like throwing a sandbag.
"Go find that damn slicer! Any model will do, even the kind used for pizza! As long as it can cut this thing!"
"I'll stop it!"
"Bang!"