Using the MC system to pretend spiritual revival

Chapter 107 Devastated
"Fake!"

After figuring all this out, the bearded man couldn't help but curse under his breath.

Looking at Professor Watson, who was still holding up the blank paper, his eyes were full of anger.

I protected them all the way, and now they want to use me as a guinea pig.

His men all died protecting this man, yet he's still worried about his own life.

This is no longer a matter of respect; it's downright disregard for the lives of these soldiers.

Looking into the pleading eyes behind the other person's glass mask only made the bearded man feel more and more disgusted.

Thinking about how the other person had been constantly hindering and causing trouble along the way, the anger in his heart burned even more fiercely.

Finally, she simply turned her head away and stopped looking at him.

He was breathing heavily, his anger subsiding slightly, but he had to face reality.

Expecting this cowardly old man to dedicate himself is certainly hopeless.

They couldn't stay trapped here forever, dying of thirst and hunger.

Recalling General MacArthur's instructions and the pledge he filled out before his departure.

And then there's the unexpected death, the pension that would be left for his wife and children, enough to ensure they'd be well-off for the rest of their lives—all of that can only elicit a deep sigh.

So he scanned himself up and finally pulled off the federal badge on his chest, weighing it in his hand.

The alloy-cast badge is quite heavy, enough to be thrown a considerable distance.

But when the moment came, even the bearded captain, who always prided himself on being fearless, couldn't help but tremble a little.

After hesitating for a few moments, I felt that I might lose my composure or make a mistake at this moment.

I could only keep telling myself, taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and steady my arms.

On the other hand, seeing his "hesitant" actions, Professor Watson couldn't help but frown.

He put away the paper he had been holding, assuming that the other party did not want to sacrifice themselves to save him, and could only think of other countermeasures with a gloomy expression.

Just as the two were each lost in their own thoughts.

A series of footsteps stomped on the puddles, making a loud, pattering sound that echoed in the enclosed room.

This sound, different from the monster crashing against the door behind them, immediately attracted their attention, and they both looked up in the direction of the sound.

As a result, it was seen that Payton, who was also wearing a bulky protective suit, had put away his paper and pen at some point.

He even boldly circled around in a semi-circle towards the door.

This seemingly suicidal action caused the two people, who already knew the angel's motive for killing, to stare in horror.

However, Watson soon realized something was wrong.

Although Payton made no attempt to conceal his footsteps, the angel standing in the center of the room only moved his limbs slightly.

I don't know what they're doing; there's no sign of them rushing forward.

Upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that Payton's gait is completely undisguised.

But from a distance in the room, the path leading around it is drawn in a semi-circle.

It seems that they are deliberately maintaining a relative distance while moving.

Thus, an idea came to Professor Watson's mind.

"He also figured out the pattern of the angels? But with so few reference points, how did he determine what distance is safe?"

It's not difficult to summarize the pattern of angels killing people; Watson himself figured it out through observation.

But what puzzled him was why Payton was so sure his guess was correct.

How could they have walked here so fearlessly? He couldn't understand it.

To the astonishment of the two men, Peyton walked to a spot not far from the towering angel.

With a smile playing on his lips, he pulled a pen from his pocket and tossed it without hesitation to a spot more than ten meters away.

At this moment, time seemed to slow down in the eyes of the bearded man and Watson.

The gleaming pen traced a parabola before landing a dozen meters directly in front of the angel.

As it landed on the ground, a crisp metallic clang reached everyone's ears.

Just moments ago, the angel had been displaying an image of gentleness, holiness, and majesty, but the next moment, it took action.

He took a step in the direction the pen had fallen.

With disproportionate agility, the enormous body swiftly reached the spot where the pen had fallen in just a few steps.

With a smooth, poreless foot, she stepped on a pen that had fallen to the ground.

With a twisting sound of metal being flattened, the entire pen was crushed into a thin sheet.

Then, under the tense gaze of the three, the other party completed this series of actions and stood still again.

Seeing his plan succeed, Payton's bloodshot eyes revealed a great deal of surprise and satisfaction.

Without pausing, he took a few more steps forward and returned to the angel's side. This time, he took a water jug ​​and threw it out in the same manner.

This time, the kettle tumbled several times with a thud as it hit the ground.

Finally, it stopped in front of the door, on the two mechanisms that control the opening and closing of the door.

The small metal kettle seemed to be too light to trigger the rock slab mechanism.

But then, the angel, drawn by the sound, strode over and stepped on it.

The weight of his tall stature allowed him to easily trigger the opening and closing of the wooden door.

With two crisp creaking sounds, the wooden door swung open as if it had suddenly closed earlier.

The skeletal monsters piled up on the wooden door collapsed to the ground and rolled around in a heap.

At this moment, the angel had already arrived a few meters in front of the door.

The constant noise from these monsters also caused the angels, who should have been motionless, to start moving again.

This time, he raised his long, muscular, and powerful arm.

With a single punch, he slammed a skeletal monster that was wobbling as it stood up, sending it flying against the wall and scattering it all over the ground.

Clearly, this was a monster that even special forces soldiers couldn't defeat despite their best efforts.

He was completely and utterly dead from that simple, unadorned punch.

Just two body lengths away from the skeleton monster crashing into the wall, the bearded man suddenly jerked.

I felt an urge to urinate, but thanks to the well-developed muscles I've built up over the years, I managed to hold it in.

In contrast, the bearded man was extremely nervous because he was too close to the door.

Professor Watson, who was now far away from the angels due to their changed positions, was filled with surprise and joy at surviving a close call.

He even boldly stood up at this moment, although his legs were still swaying unsteadily, but he clearly felt that he had a great advantage.

As for Dr. Payton, the mastermind behind it all, he once again took out his precious little notebook and quickly jotted something down.

His face was full of interest, showing no sign of nervousness.

At this moment, our gaze returns to the doorway.

The gray-white skeletons that had fallen to the ground had been smashed into scattered bones by the giant angel, who was four or five meters tall, with both fists.

Some old-fashioned wooden bows were blown away and scattered everywhere.

But clearly, just as Watson had predicted, the angels did not linger after killing this batch of monsters.

Instead, it was targeted by other monsters that were gradually attracted from outside the door.

Among them were eerie flame creatures that I had seen once before, floating in the air.

There's also the first encounter, the tall, jet-black skeleton wielding a heavy stone sword.

Payton even saw a group approaching from a distance through the space between the angel's legs.

According to outside accounts, he was a burly monster with ram's horns, a necrotic and rotting body, and a cleaver.

Almost the instant the door opened, all sorts of monsters surged in along the long, open-air corridor.

The angel, with its pair of bright golden eyes, showed no fear, and simply bent down and stepped out of the two-meter-high doorway, into the outside world.

With a casual punch, he sent the nearly 3-meter-tall, pitch-black skeleton, wielding a heavy rock sword, charging wildly flying.

The latter drew a parabola and fell into the lava lake below the fortress, creating a bubble.

But soon, all sorts of monsters surged up.

However, no monster is a match for the Thousand-Winged Angel.

Various black rock machetes and rock greatswords struck the angel's knees, but none of them left a mark.

Instead, it was like a monster running along the rocky corridor, as if it were one of the Calabash Brothers rescuing its grandfather.

One after another, they were smashed and sent flying by the tall angels, striking from both sides.

Finally, they scattered on the ground or fell into the nearby lava lake.

The number of monsters kept pouring in from all directions, seemingly endless.

This continued for a while, until they seemed to tire of the monotonous, visceral combat.

The angels with thousands of wings raised their hands, just as they would when executing two soldiers in a room.

A series of dazzling rings condensed in his hand.

The next moment, a beam of light consisting of a ring was launched from his palm.

Then, with a deafening roar, the various monsters in the row of rocky corridors in front of them were all shattered by the violent impact and scattered all over the ground.

Suddenly, the monsters in front of them were reduced from a surging tide to just a few scattered creatures.

(End of this chapter)