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White cold mist surged frantically from the bottom of four giant metal tanks, instantly swallowing everything around it.
The piercing sound of alarms intertwined with the "hissing" of high-pressure gas leaks.
"Clack! Bang! Clack! Bang!"
Four heavy and clear sounds of metal latches popping open were exceptionally abrupt.
Pushed slowly and stubbornly by hydraulic rods, the four thick circular hatch doors opened inch by inch, revealing the bottomless darkness behind them.
An aura of tyranny more primitive and pure than that of a Licker seeped out from the opening gaps—cold, viscous, and carrying a heavy stench of mixed carapace and rotting meat.
"Stalker (Hunter)..." Bruce squeezed the word through his teeth, his knuckles gripping the pistol turning white from excessive force.
"Damn it, it's an enhanced mutant model."
Before his voice could fade, four dark green shadows shot out from the thick mist!
Their speed exceeded the limits of human visual capture; only four blurry afterimages could be seen, carrying a whistle that tore through the air as they pounced toward the three people in the center of the hall from four different directions!
These monsters were larger than any Stalker depicted in the files.
They stood nearly three meters tall, their bodies covered in the hard, dark green scales characteristic of reptilian creatures.
Knotted muscle groups bulged high beneath the scales, filled with explosive power.
Their forelimbs had mutated into two giant, sharp bone scythes, glinting coldly with tips as sharp as spears.
"Scatter!"
Noah gave a low shout.
Phoenix Bell reacted the fastest. She rolled on the spot almost the instant the monsters burst from the mist, and while pulling away, the mp5 submachine gun in her hand began to roar.
A long chain of fire composed of 9mm bullets accurately swept toward the face of the Stalker closest to her.
However, the monster merely tilted its head slightly, letting the bullets strike its hard skull and shoulder blades. A series of crisp "clinking" sounds rang out, and aside from a few insignificant sparks, no effective damage was dealt.
Bruce also dove to the side, rolling clumsily twice on the ground before stabilizing himself.
He knelt on one knee, the.45 pistol in his hand letting out a succession of dull roars.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Every large-caliber pistol round accurately hit the chest and abdomen of the Stalker in front of him.
The massive kinetic energy caused the monster's forward momentum to pause slightly, but the bullets only shattered a few surface scales before getting stuck in the exceptionally tough muscle tissue beneath, failing to even fully penetrate the skin.
"The bones and skin of this damn thing are way too hard!" Bruce cursed angrily, quickly changing magazines.
In that split-second opening, the Stalker had already lunged close again, raising its scythe-like giant claw high and swinging it down fiercely toward the top of Bruce's head, accompanied by a stench-filled wind!
The shadow of death instantly loomed over him.
At this critical moment, Phoenix Bell had already turned her muzzle.
"Get down!"
Her calm voice rang out.
Without hesitation, Bruce pressed his body down violently.
"Rat-tat-tat!"
A precise three-round burst flew past his scalp and, without missing a beat, burrowed entirely into the Stalker's relatively soft armpit joint, which had been exposed by its raised arm!
"Awooo—!"
The monster let out a roar of pain, and its raised bone scythe suddenly stiffened.
Bruce seized this fleeting opportunity, leaping up from the ground like a leopard, his muzzle already aimed at the monster's wide-open, tooth-filled maw.
"Bang!"
A.45 bullet spiraled into the depths of its throat from a tricky angle!
Massive energy exploded within its cranial cavity, and the hideous head instantly burst from the inside, green blood and shattered tissue splattering everywhere.
The massive body crashed to the ground.
Bruce and Phoenix Bell had struggled to take one down, and before they could catch their breath, the other three Stalkers had locked all their attack targets onto the only person still standing in place: Noah.
Facing three top predators pouncing simultaneously from different directions, Noah's expression didn't change in the slightest.
He simply raised his hands slowly and unhurriedly slipped a pair of knuckle dusters onto his fists—minimalist in design but full of power, crafted from a special metal.
The metal fitted perfectly against his knuckles with a faint "click."
The Stalker on the left arrived first, its bone scythe tracing a lethal arc aimed straight for Noah's neck.
Noah advanced instead of retreating, tilting his body slightly to dodge this killing blow at an incredible angle, missing it by a hair's breadth.
Then, planting his left foot on the ground, he pivoted his body around his waist.
His right fist, wearing the metal knuckle dusters, struck first despite moving second, carrying a low sonic boom as it slammed fiercely into the Stalker's ribs.
"Crack—!"
The tooth-aching sound of bones shattering rang out.
Under this punch, the indestructible scales and muscles were as weak as paper, instantly caving in with a massive fist print.
Terrifying force penetrated its tough body, vibrating its internal organs and bones into powder!
The Stalker didn't even have time to let out a cry of grief; its massive body was hit like a head-on collision with a speeding truck, flying backward faster than it had come, its life force completely extinguished in mid-air.
Meanwhile, the other two Stalkers pounced simultaneously from the front and the right!
They seemed enraged by their companion's instant death, their assault becoming even more frenzied. Two bone scythes crossed, sealing off all of Noah's evasion space and forming a web of death.
Noah bent his legs slightly and lowered his center of gravity, neither dodging nor flinching as he faced the intersecting blades.
Just a split second before the two bone scythes could touch his body, his fists, clad in knuckle dusters, swung upward violently.
"Clang!!"
A massive metallic clang, like an ancient bell being struck, exploded in the empty hall!
Noah had actually used his fists to brute-force a block against those two bone scythes capable of cleaving through steel plates!
Sparks flew in all directions!
The massive impact from the two Stalkers only caused his body to sway slightly before being completely neutralized by the seemingly ordinary floor beneath his feet.
A trace of beastly bewilderment flashed in the eyes of the two Stalkers; they couldn't understand why this tiny human could burst forth with such terrifying power.
Noah gave them no time to think.
The muscles in his arms suddenly bulged, and an irresistible force surged from his knuckles!
"Get lost!"
With a roar, he thrust his arms, physically shoving the two giant monsters weighing over three hundred kilograms several meters to the sides!
Seizing the moment the monsters lost their balance.
His figure turned into a blurry afterimage, instantly appearing in front of the Stalker on the right.
He threw a straight punch infused with spiral force, accurately smashing into that hideous head.
"Bang!"
Like a sledgehammer smashing a ripe watermelon.
The hard head burst apart, turning into a mist of blood.
Having dealt with the third one, Noah didn't pause for a moment. He tapped his toe heavily on the ground, and like an arrow leaving a bow, he caught up with the other Stalker that was still stumbling back.
He leapt high into the air, his right leg carrying the weight of ten thousand catties as it slammed down fiercely onto the Stalker's skull!
"Boom!"
A dull, heavy thud.
The entire upper body of that last Stalker, along with the head it had just raised, was instantly smashed into the hard metal floor, turning into a pile of unidentifiable meat.
The battle was over.
It had taken less than twenty seconds.
Bruce and Phoenix Bell stared at the scene before them, dumbfounded, almost forgetting to breathe.
In the air, the thick smell of gunpowder mixed with the even thicker stench of blood, stimulating their nerves.
Noah slowly retracted his leg and shook off the green blood staining his knuckles. The cold metallic luster of the knuckle dusters reflected a grim chill under the lights... The bottom level of the Spencer.
On Morpheus D. Duval's face, the morbid smile of someone admiring a work of art had completely frozen.
He stared fixedly at the main screen, at the Eastern man who had casually slaughtered his three proud "collection" pieces, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Just then, the encrypted communication request popped up again.
It was Drake C. Simmons.
Morpheus, carrying the anger of being interrupted and having his "artwork" destroyed, answered the call.
"Mr. Morpheus." Simmons's anxious face appeared on the screen. He got straight to the point, his tone carrying the smoothness and allure characteristic of a politician.
"I think you should have seen it by now. Among those three rats, one is a tiger in rat's clothing."
He paused and, without waiting for Morpheus to lash out, continued: "Even if you release all your 'artwork,' you might eventually kill him, but your ship and your collection will inevitably be destroyed. More importantly, even if you get that five billion dollars, guess how much power those two enraged superpowers will use to completely erase you and your new world from the face of the earth?"
"What you want is a kingdom, not the world's largest tomb, right?"
Simmons's words awakened the reason beneath Morpheus's arrogant exterior.
Indeed, his goal was not to drag the world down with him.
"What are you trying to say?" Morpheus's voice was cold.
"Cooperation." Simmons finally revealed his fangs.
"Give up this meaningless terrorist attack. In my capacity as 'National Security Advisor,' I will characterize this incident as a failed extortion attempt and take full charge of the follow-up. Your name won't even appear in any official reports."
"In exchange, I will provide you with an absolutely safe secret research base in Africa, along with a continuous stream of funding. And you will need to share your research results with me and help me... deal with some of our common enemies."
A crazed light flickered in Simmons's eyes. "For example, that man on the screen who is destroying everything of yours. We can join forces to create a creature more perfect than him, and then use our 'new artwork' to replace that 'old era' defective product."
Morpheus fell silent.
Simmons's proposal was full of temptation.
A politician out of power wanted to return to the Peak of power by calming an international crisis.
A mad scientist needed a stable environment and political asylum to build his kingdom.
This was indeed a perfect deal.
"...Deal." Morpheus slowly spat out the word... Noah and the others didn't stay long in the exhibition hall; they quickly found the passage to the lower levels and headed down.
On the fourth floor, the alloy door leading to the control core was tightly shut.
Bruce took a small piece of plastic explosive from his backpack and skillfully placed it on the door lock.
"Boom!"
With a loud bang, a gap was blown open in the door.
The three rushed into the control room, only to find it empty. Only the piercing sound of alarms echoed, and the screen flashed navigation information indicating they were about to reach their destination.
Morpheus had already fled.
Just then, an incredibly heavy sound of metal clashing came from the direction of the freight elevator behind them.
The elevator door was severely deformed by a massive force from the inside out, and then the thick metal door was physically torn open by a pair of non-human hands!
A giant and terrifying figure slowly walked out of the dark elevator shaft.
It stood over two point six meters tall, with extremely swollen muscle tissue beneath its pale and tough skin.
Unlike other Tyrants, it hadn't evolved sharp giant claws; instead, two dark red tentacles, several meters long and as thick as giant pythons, grew from the ends of its arms, writhing restlessly on the ground.
And its most horrifying feature was its back.
A giant, deformed, and still "thumping" heart was completely exposed, connected by countless thick blood vessels and tendons, like a bloody backpack forcibly attached to its back.
T-091 Tyrant.
Looking at the monster before him that exceeded his understanding and radiated an infinite sense of oppression, Bruce subconsciously took half a step back and couldn't help but curse in a low voice:
"This guy is a bit different from the Tyrant described in the files... so damn ugly."
The three quickly formed a triangular defensive formation, their muzzles locked onto this new, unknown horror.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Atlantic, between the pitch-black night and the surging sea, the massive cruise ship Spencer was slowly sailing toward a lonely island shrouded in darkness.
A tactical skiff was being towed underneath.
On the island's cliffs, the silhouette of a long-abandoned Research Institute flickered in and out of view under the illumination of lightning.
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