Chapter 1641 - 81: Wild Night Second Movement (Part 2)

Chapter 1641: Chapter 81: Wild Night Second Movement (Part 2)

The snipers, snapping back to their senses, had already started to return fire. Bullet after bullet crossed the void in eerie silence, appearing in front of the gate of Devil’s Paradise.

But in that dense hail of bullets, Fatty’s leaping, rolling figure was so agile it was almost unreal.

Not a single round could hit him—never mind hit, they couldn’t even keep up with his footsteps. It was like he wasn’t dodging the bullets; the bullets were dodging him.

On the ground, tiny craters bloomed in an instant, dust exploding outward.

Fatty rolled once, and as he came up into a half crouch, the sniper rifle was already leveled.

The muzzle flared for the third time, another clean headshot. The sniper who was hit took the round through the eye; it blew out through the back of his skull in a bloody hole. He toppled straight off the rooftop of Space City, like a puppet dropped headlong into hell.

Over Hydefield’s city skyline, the gunshots were almost inaudible.

No machine gun rakes, no battlefield missiles and that overwhelming storm of bullets that makes you afraid to lift your head. Yet this kind of fight was even more brutal, even more terrifying.

No one could have imagined Fatty would just stagger out alone with one rifle, drunk off his ass, and launch a challenge against fifteen top-tier snipers.

But everything in front of them left them no choice but to believe their own eyes.

Fatty roamed the circular plaza outside Devil’s Paradise, sprinting, jumping, rolling. Flying Cars, support columns, billboards, and even Bu’er, Heinrich, Vivian and the others standing there dumbly—all of them had become his cover. The bullets chased him, but always missed by a hair.

And every time the sniper rifle in his hands flashed, it took another sniper’s life. In that circular arena, that chubby silhouette was like a Heavenly God descended.

David, McCarthy and the others were already dazzled and stunned. A jolt of electricity crawled up their spines in an instant.

"Thup, thup!" Two rounds slammed into the ground in quick succession. Fatty suddenly sprang up, his body almost level with the ground in midair, legs scissoring, rolling as he snapped off three shots in a row.

From the satellite surveillance feed looking down, three sniper positions on Space City went silent at the same time. In the zoomed-in close-ups, all you could see were heads bursting like rotten watermelons, bodies either crumpling to the rooftop or tumbling down toward the cold lights of the city below.

No one could find words to describe the shock pounding in their chests.

In the lights of Hydefield, this Fatty was like a monster that had walked straight out of a smoke-choked battlefield. Unstoppable, unbeatable. His movements were faster than lightning, his combat sense richer than the ace of aces. Every shot he fired punched another vicious hole in the heart of the Leefer Group.

Who could possibly be more arrogant than a lunatic like this?

Everything happened in the space of a spark and a flash, too fast for anyone to catch up.

Finally, the Mecha that had come with Friedrich powered up. Four Mecha lunged at Fatty in the arena like four enraged lions. On the highway, the armed forces of the major families surged forward as well. At that moment, everyone’s eyes went red.

In front of the satellite screens, the crowd fell silent.

Everyone knew Fatty couldn’t possibly rely on a single sniper rifle to fight it out with that many Mecha. Watching those four ferocious Thunderbolt Mecha pounce at him, and the brown-haired youth whose knife gleamed coldly as he dove in alongside them, nearly every heart watching was lodged in their throat.

Suddenly, twenty silhouettes floated out from the blue shield of Alaska’s Sky City.

Twenty black Mecha, like devils themselves. It was as if they’d been there the whole time, lurking inside that light curtain, in the empty air along that circular upper railing.

Only now did they step out of the void, baring their fangs, and under the push of auxiliary thrusters, they blasted toward the four Thunderbolt Mecha like bolts of lightning!

Rampage! Fatty’s Rampage! A crazed roar went up from the watchers; it felt like the whole world shook at that instant.

No matter which side they stood on, everyone had painstakingly searched for the whereabouts of those twenty Mecha. But no one could find them.

It had seemed those Mecha hadn’t come with Fatty at all.

Now they understood: Fatty’s trump card had been right beside him.

Inside that blue light curtain, Bandit Army Mecha with Stealth Technology were flat-out impossible to detect. This was a carefully laid trap!

Fatty didn’t spare the charging Mecha a glance, still calmly harvesting the surrounding snipers’ lives shot after shot!

Thirteenth. Fourteenth... When he, eyes bloodshot, rested his rifle on Vivian’s completely limp body and took out the final sniper, that brown-haired youth named Flaischer was already on top of him, knife flashing coldly in his grip.

"Boom!" A thunderous blast—four Thunderbolt Mecha became four fireballs almost simultaneously.

Twenty Rampage units, like twenty Devils, closed in and shredded them in an instant.

There was no real fight, no resistance. The four Thunderbolt units were like four punching bags laid out on the ground. In front of twenty terrifying Rampage Mecha, they had no chance to strike back.

Instant kill!

Everyone was stunned speechless by the scene before them.

Even though the pilots of those four Thunderbolt Mecha were elected Advanced Mecha Warriors, they had no chance at all against those Devil Mecha, faster than lightning, visible only as streaks of Phantom. Twenty Super Mecha War Gods butchering four Thunderbolt units was like chopping vegetables—overturned in the blink of an eye!

The explosions in his ears and the pillars of flame didn’t affect Flaischer.

In his icy eyes, there was only Fatty. That was his prey, a prey that gave him enough fun and also made his Anger boil.

For the first time in his life, he was this bloodthirsty. He was going to kill this Fatty, drive his blade straight into the man’s heart!

The knife was already in front of Fatty, fast as a streak of cold light.

This was Flaischer’s fastest speed, a thrust unleashed after driving every last fiber of muscle in his body to its absolute peak!

The silver-white Blade was about to plunge into Fatty’s chest—when Fatty suddenly let go of his rifle. His left-hand fingers twitched, and a razor-sharp three-edged bayonet appeared in his palm as if by Magic.

On the rooftop of Alaska’s Sky City, the blaze was burning hot.

On the satellite feed, the red glare drowned everything; beyond Fierce Fire, there was only blood.

Under everyone’s gaze, Flaischer and Fatty tangled together, their hands moving so fast they were practically invisible.

In the hush, a flash of blood.

Fatty’s Bayonet sliced open Flaischer’s wrist. As the silver knife slipped from Flaischer’s hand toward the ground, his other wrist, his thigh, his lower abdomen, his chest, his neck, his face—were already being stabbed over and over by Fatty, eyes drunk-rainbow wild, expression twisted.

Ten stabs, twenty, thirty...

One stab, then another!

The brown-haired youth stared in disbelief, shuddering under the endless flurry of blades.

The whole world was the color of blood.

.Finished this Chapter and I feel completely drained. Seven thousand words today, count it as two updates. Wildly begging for monthly tickets.

.(To be continued. To find out what happens next, please log in to www.qidian.com. More Chapters there—support the author, support legit reading!)