Using the MC system to pretend spiritual revival

Chapter 239 An Unexpected Joy?

It was dark, cramped, and filled with the acrid smell of blood.

Quake remained in wolf form, his nostrils twitching, his bloodshot eyes reflecting a cold light in the dim light.

The wolf pack was scattered by the sudden attack of the monsters, and they were also shrouded in eerie darkness, unable to see their surroundings at all.

I don't know how far I ran, until the darkness in my vision faded, and then I stopped.

Fortunately, despite the limited field of vision, the werewolves' sense of perception and smell did not diminish, and they quickly regrouped.

At this moment, Quake looked at the dozen or so werewolves lying or leaning on the ground in front of him, sprawled out in all sorts of disarray.

This number is less than half of the original number.

This also means that most of the werewolves have perished in the monster attack that descended with the darkness.

Unless they die, with the werewolf's resilient physique and self-healing ability, even if they are seriously injured, after waiting for so long, they should at least be able to regain their mobility and follow the information to find us.

But as time went by, no sound came from outside.

Thinking of these things, his huge beastly face twisted involuntarily, and a series of low, angry roars came from his chest.

“…Damn vampire reptile, Harold…Roar! Damn it…damn it!”

Now that things have come to this, his usually sluggish brain, which is easily swayed by anger, has finally come to its senses.

That damned vampire who came over for no reason with his mockery and contempt was just trying to provoke me and make me rashly take action to pave the way for him.

"Roar--!!"

"Vampires! I will tear you to pieces!! You vile reptiles!! Ah!!"

The angry roar also elicited a weak response from the wolf pack.

However, after the anger came a sob.

With the werewolf's powerful night vision, Quake could clearly see the hideous wounds covering the wolves not far away.

Even with the werewolf's physical resilience and self-healing ability, the flesh and blood failed to heal for a long time as they writhed.

Thinking about it, Quake withdrew his gaze and turned to look at his right hand.

At this moment, the place was completely empty, and even half of the shoulder and part of the chest cavity had been broken off and torn apart by some terrifying force.

Within the gaping wound, a mixture of flesh and white bone, one could vaguely see the writhing internal organs, which were then re-encased by surging blood vessels thanks to the powerful self-healing ability.

This wound came from a punch from that purple monster with only a huge mouth in the darkness.

The thick, battering ram-like arm fell down. If Quake, the clan leader, hadn't possessed a more robust physique than other werewolves, this blow would likely have been fatal to any ordinary werewolf.

Thinking of that terrifying figure, accompanied by the sharp pain of wounds healing, I felt waves of palpitations—or rather, fear.

Since being transformed into a werewolf, he has once again felt the fear that his life could be taken away at any moment.

However, this hint of cowardice was quickly masked by his anger, and he continued to scan his surroundings with cold eyes, as if a wolf king were inspecting his territory.

As the alpha wolf who fought his way up, he knew best what it meant when the previous successor showed signs of decline after a defeat.

Within that incredibly loyal wolf pack, countless challengers will emerge, and they will not hesitate to tear their once obedient leader to shreds.

That's the rule of the wolf pack.

A leader should be fearless, fierce, and ruthless; any weakness will be the beginning of losing prestige.

For now, Quake has maintained his authority as leader quite well.

Over the next ten minutes or so, the wolf pack's self-healing abilities began to take effect. Some werewolves, even those with broken backs and torn parts of their bodies, were now shakily sitting up.

The even stronger Quake has healed the hideous wounds on his side, his bones have regenerated, his muscles have been remodeled, his fur has covered his shoulders, and his arms have begun to extend and regenerate.

However, there was no joy in his wolf-like eyes at this moment, only a sense of suppression and solemnity.

Looking up at the underground intersection not far away, which was blocked by a bunch of vehicles twisted and turned, there was still no movement.

After so much time has passed and no werewolves have come looking for them, it's safe to assume there are no more survivors.

With only a dozen or so companions left, it meant that he would not receive any reward from the elders upon returning from this mission.

Instead, they would be thrown into the losers' arena, where they would have to fight to see if they could maintain the existence of the clan they led.

But that will have to wait until we can get back alive.

Quake glanced at the remaining wolves who had staggered to their feet, and his keen eyes noticed that the wounds of some of them were healing much slower, which made his heart sink.

Like vampires, werewolves' power is also built on constant consumption. However, compared to blood, werewolves have a wider range of needs, as long as it's meat.

These remaining dozen or so men are incredibly valuable to Quake; each additional one increases his chances of winning the Clan Wars after returning to the United States.

With no survivors in sight, and the wolves' wounds nearly healed, their immediate priority is finding enough food to replenish their supplies.

With his mind racing, Quake stood up and walked toward the exit.

As the clan leader, his hearing was more acute than that of ordinary werewolves. Not long after he hid in the underground garage, he noticed that some small monsters attracted by their scent were beginning to gather.

These things posed little threat, and since the entire team was seriously injured and needed time to recover, they could only find a relatively safe location to take temporary shelter.

However, now that the team has regained its mobility, it is not advisable to stay here for long.

“Ka——!!”

While thinking, Quake, who was leading the team to the exit, stretched out his huge, ferocious wolf claws and pulled the twisted vehicle blocking the entrance out with one hand.

Amidst a series of piercing, twisting metallic sounds, the exit was revealed, revealing a dozen or so monsters that looked like cobbled-together pieces of rotten flesh.

However, in the next moment, a wrecked vehicle flew out like a cannonball, smashing the unprepared monster to pieces.

"Roar—! Go!!"

With a low shout, Quake took the lead, his massive black body creating gusts of wind as he charged in the opposite direction from where he had come from, while the other werewolves howled and roared as they followed.

In that direction, a huge billboard stands in the night, with an arrow pointing to a newly opened large international shopping mall.

Although they couldn't read the words, the steak and salmon printed on the advertisement successfully convinced the wolf pack to decide where to go next.

At this moment, they no longer cared about their location or mission.

Finding meat to replenish their bodies, recovering from injuries, and surviving are the top priorities.

The crisis here has far exceeded previous expectations…

However, they were clearly not the only ones who were unexpectedly caught up in the crisis.

Despite the darkness of the night, surprisingly, lights were still on in the basement of a building.

With its smooth tiled floor and densely packed shelves casting shadows under the lights, this relatively enclosed underground space also avoids the purple mycelium that infests the ground.

Some shelves were emptied and piled up to the side, while a large number of quilts and mattresses taken from the living area were neatly stacked and laid out as a continuous stretch of bedding. Some people who appeared to be injured or sick lay down among the bedding.

Men and women were moving about, some carrying supplies, others taking care of the wounded, and they seemed quite organized and orderly.

Clearly, this was the result of someone's planning and arrangement, which made this underground space, which still relies on generators for lighting, present a scene that is almost the opposite of the chaotic and distorted country on the surface.

The camp, which appeared to be quite large, was surrounded by bunkers made up of stacked shelves.

Behind the cover, one could see soldiers in green uniforms, heavily armed, looking warily into the distance. Interspersed among them were several individuals in full-body black combat suits, their badges and insignia identifying them as elite agents of the Special Operations Bureau.

At the very center, a middle-aged man with balding hair was sweating profusely, his eyes closed as he sensed something.

Suddenly, he stood up abruptly and pointed towards the left side of the bunker defense line.

"Three at nine o'clock!"

At his shout, the soldiers, who had been on high alert, instinctively raised their guns in the corresponding direction and opened fire without hesitation.

"Da da da!"

A series of sparks shot out, shattering a panel on the ceiling and revealing a layer covered with various pipes and cables.

As several flares were fired, a burst of orange-red light immediately illuminated the three twisted figures hiding in the shadows inside.

Then, more than ten guns aimed and fired.

Amidst the sounds of bullets piercing flesh, three dark figures screamed and fell to the ground, quickly losing their lives.

The refugees in the camp were initially startled by the sudden opening of fire, but they quickly calmed down and resumed their work as if they were already used to such scenes.

The soldiers who had just launched the attack also lowered their guns, their eyes filled with exhaustion and numbness, and quickly changed their magazines.

The balding middle-aged man who had spoken up to warn others earlier also plopped back down in his seat, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

He looked more haggard than the others, with heavy dark circles under his eyes that made him almost look like he was wearing sunglasses.

After catching his breath and feeling a bit better, he raised his hand and slapped his cheeks hard, as if trying to boost his spirits.

"This place is great, with plenty of supplies and electricity, but these wall-climbing monsters are really torturous!"

He sighed and glanced at the three lumps of monster corpses lying on the ground not far away. They were brownish-black monsters covered in rough hair, looking somewhat like spiders, but with human hands on their legs.

This thing wasn't as threatening as other large monsters encountered on the ground, but its problem was that it appeared and disappeared unpredictably and could crawl on walls, allowing it to approach silently, which initially caused quite a commotion.

Fortunately, there was a perceptive superhuman in the team, but it was clear that he couldn't hold out for long.

There were fewer than forty people present, and strictly speaking, many of the soldiers were wearing bandages and splints while holding their guns and on guard.

There was a severe shortage of manpower, and several teams suffered losses when they joined forces to carry out their mission after the sudden change on the ground. Many people were seriously injured.

After taking in the refugees who had been evacuated to this place, it had come to the point where even the able-bodied soldiers needed to be stationed as fixed artillery positions to make up for manpower, let alone have room for shift rotations.

The underground shopping mall is great, with no shortage of supplies, but the space is too large and interconnected, with blind spots even after the shelves are emptied, making it impossible to predict where the next attack will take place.

Just as the middle-aged man, whose eyes were dark and who clearly hadn't rested in a long time, was sighing and trying to use this method to perk himself up and not fall asleep, a sound of footsteps suddenly approached.

Soon, a young man with bandages and one arm in a sling came to his side.

He took out a small metal bottle, turned it upside down, and flicked out the last two brownish pills, handing them to him.

"Eat up, Lao Meng, these are the last two. Let's hold on a little longer for the brothers. Lao Dao is already trying to find a solution..."

After receiving the pill from the other party, the balding middle-aged man known as Old Meng gave a wry smile and didn't say much.

He tilted his head back and poured the pill into his mouth.

His face contorted briefly before he slowly exhaled.

Feeling the magical power gradually filling his body, his somewhat drowsy mind suddenly became clearer.

After doing all that, he turned to look at the young man with bandages next to him.

"The old Taoist priest is trying to find a solution? What? That stingy old man has finally decided to let his precious zombie out to scout ahead?"

Upon hearing this, the young man smiled somewhat awkwardly, unsure of how to respond.

However, he also understood why the other party reacted this way.

On the road, they encountered a horde of monsters blocking the way. Old Meng suggested using an experienced zombie attached to a drone to lure the monsters away.

However, as expected, it met with strong opposition from the other party and ultimately came to nothing.

The two of them kept arguing the rest of the way, and the rest of the group had long been used to it.

After considering these points and organizing his thoughts, the young man began to explain.

"That's right, the old Taoist priest..."

However, he was interrupted by a loud bang from above before he could finish speaking.

"boom--!"

With another sound, under everyone's gaze, a piece of ceiling above them suddenly fell in a flurry of dust and debris.

It was as if some terrifying beast was attacking relentlessly, and a large lump quickly bulged out.

At this moment, the entire camp reacted suddenly.

The refugees, protected in the middle, quickly gathered together.

Meanwhile, the soldiers at every point along the defensive line all pointed their guns at the ceiling, where large chunks of concrete were beginning to fall.

"boom--!!"

With a final, deafening crash, the thick floorboards were smashed open, leaving a large hole.

Various fragments, mixed with twisted steel bars, fell to the ground with a loud bang, raising a cloud of dust.

Almost simultaneously, several tall, black figures leaped down from above the hole.

A monster with a wolf's head, nearly three meters tall, almost touching the ceiling, strode out, tearing through the smoke and dust.

Beneath his thick, black fur were bulging muscles, making him look like a giant wolf standing upright.

A pair of beastly eyes, reflecting a cold, eerie light, scanned the orderly, guarded camp before them. They were somewhat surprised, but this quickly turned into a look of excitement.

"Goo~"

He tilted his head back and swallowed the large piece of fresh meat he was holding in his mouth.

Then, a hoarse, unpleasant sound, like the roar of a beast, drifted out.

"Look what I found! A bunch of little mice hiding underground..."

This is a real surprise.

Quirk's sharp eyes quickly recognized the identities of the soldiers in front of him—Xingguo's advance team.

Before setting off, the elders gave instructions, including one concerning Xingguo, the importance of which is self-evident.

Quake looked at the wary gazes staring at him, noticing that many of them were injured and the team seemed to be in poor condition.

His lips involuntarily parted into a wider grin.

If we capture a few extraordinary individuals from Xingguo and bring them back, not only will we be able to punish the Blood War, but we'll probably also receive a considerable reward.

Thinking of this, Quake's wolf eyes gleamed with even greater excitement. He lowered his body and pounced.

"Roar--!!"

(End of this chapter)