Mobile City Farming Guide

Chapter 108 Can it be held? (4K)
"Stay calm, we can win!"

On a watchtower in a level 2 mobile city, a lookout shouted urgently.

He was not blindly confident.

With the defensive deployment at the front lines and the fire support from the rear, the million-strong zombie horde has been almost wiped out.

All humans need to do is focus on dealing with those zombie-infested cities.

Overall, the human side has a very high chance of winning.

They had a large number of mobile cities and relied on fortified positions for defense.

With a series of cannon shots, the zombie mobile cities launched hundreds and thousands of smoke shells.

Unlike regular white smoke, their smoke shells emit blood-red smoke when they explode, and it is extremely thick.

The blood-red smoke gradually enveloped the position.

George's fingers gripped the butt of his rifle tightly, his lips moved silently, and his knuckles turned pale with tension. He wanted to gag, but couldn't. The young combat deacon's eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a startled moth, and his breathing became short gasps.

At this moment, he became more nervous than ever before.

The 12 zombie-infested mobile cities were now shrouded in billowing smoke.

More deadly than the war itself is the oppressive feeling of not knowing that a major war could break out at any moment.

The enemy could launch an attack at any time, from any direction.

Just then, he was suddenly slapped on the shoulder.

"If you want to go back to your family alive, then wake up!" the middle-aged deacon roared hoarsely.

George seemed to wake from a dream and slowly nodded.

Seeing his appearance, the middle-aged deacon regained some composure and even sighed with melancholy.

"It's a terrible thing that this cult sent such young children to the battlefield."

"Mr. Xian!"

George snapped out of his daze and stammered.

"What do I need to do to survive?"

"What you have to do on the battlefield is to be like these big guys."

The middle-aged deacon casually lit a cigarette and looked up at the mobile cities not far away.

"Move, then fire."

Time passed slowly, and everyone's tension increased.

The rumbling sounds coming from the smoke grew louder and closer.

The next second, the thick fog was broken, and a large number of figures rushed out at the same time!
These are various vehicles deployed in the smoke of an assault-type zombie city.

Off-road vehicles, motorcycles, airships, jet aircraft, helicopters, and even infantry fighting vehicles.
The hundreds of vehicles surged forward like a black tide!

Inside the SUV, zombies armed with rifles and rocket launchers poked their heads out and roared.

The zombie driving the motorcycle waved a Molotov cocktail and laughed loudly.

The most eye-catching were the jet aircraft.

Inside the cockpit, the zombies' bluish-gray, rotting hands gripped the control sticks tightly, their cloudy, bloodshot eyes behind their goggles staring intently at the instrument panel.

As the jet plane hurtled rapidly downwards, many zombies suddenly lost their jawbones, which they then impatiently pressed back into place with their palms.

Not only that, three defensive zombie cities also emerged from the smoke.

Their shells were covered with thick, heavy white bones, and thick smoke billowed from their steam chimneys.

Following them are scattered, assault-type mobile cities advancing rapidly.

"Fire! Fire!" a lord roared hoarsely.

Behind the position, the fire support city launched a salvo of artillery fire.

For assault-type cities, convoys, helicopters, and small airships that were previously deployed are dispatched.

Before the city battle began, the two sides' convoys and aircraft engaged in a preliminary confrontation.

The clash between the living and the decaying unfolded on the battlefield, with the roar of vehicle engines and the howls of zombies creating a vortex of death.

The human side's off-road vehicles sped forward, the heavy machine guns mounted on their roofs spitting fire, and spent shell casings rained down on the asphalt road.

The zombie convoy was equally well-equipped, and even more ferocious.

At the forefront were the zombies' motorcycle convoy.

The zombie rider on the motorcycle let out a sinister laugh and casually tossed a Molotov cocktail at the human vehicle.

Some zombie drivers, their backs bent like bows, twisted the accelerator to its maximum with their rotting fingers, dodging human gunfire and leaping straight into the air to smash into the car.

Because they rushed to the front lines, the vast majority of them were killed by concentrated fire.

The zombies didn't care about these casualties at all.

They were already dead, so they didn't care about having a return ticket.

The fighting in the sky was equally intense.

Human jet fighters slashed through the clouds like falcons, machine guns roared, and lines of fire intertwined to form a deadly net.

What attacked from the opposite side was a hellish flying formation of zombies.

Inside the machine, a mixture of flesh and machine, the zombies' withered fingers gripped the control stick tightly, their hollow, rotting eyes fixed on the crosshair.

As the two groups of machines converged, the clouds turned into a meat grinder of steel and decay.

The zombies felt no fear and did not back down.

They will only rush into the world of the living, carrying with them their decaying obsessions.

On the battlefield, the mobile city of humans and zombies officially began its battle.

Rapid charge, maneuvering to evade, artillery fire, convoy sweeps forward.

The battlefield burned, and the earth trembled.

On the deck, George gripped the railing tightly as the Holy Sword K32, to which he was, was maneuvering to avoid an obstacle.

Its opponent is a mobile city of assault zombies.

"boom!"

The cannons on the deck of the Holy Sword K32 roared deafeningly, their shells tearing through the air and blasting directly into the enemy's flank.

The rusted, fleshy mechanical deck was instantly torn apart, triggering a massive explosion.

But soon, it began to slowly repair itself.

"We must increase the firepower!" a deacon roared hoarsely.

Soon, the zombie-infested mobile city also opened fire.

The most numerous artillery pieces were the large-caliber cannons loaded with zombies.

In an instant, a rain of countless zombies descended.

The zombies landed one after another on the deck.

The zombies, forcibly stuffed into the cannon barrel and accelerated to the extreme by the shelling, were no longer human-shaped when they landed, and more than half of them were dead or injured.

Driven by instinct, they still roared and pounced on the humans.

Gunfire erupted throughout the mobile city in an instant.

George leaned against the middle-aged deacon and fired at the top of his lungs.

Level 2 firearms and level 2 heavy machine guns were now incredibly powerful, reaping the zombie horde like harvesting wheat.

Just then, several figures appeared in the sky.

The zombies' light airships slowly descended from the light gray clouds, their rotting flesh and blood gasbags covered with black, vein-like patterns, and their hulls suspended from decaying gondolas.

The room was crammed with zombies that kept roaring and moving around.

What awaited them was the Level 2 anti-aircraft gun on the Holy Sword K32.

"Fire! Shoot them down!" a combat deacon roared.

The anti-aircraft guns on the deck suddenly roared, their 20mm incendiary shells transforming into crimson whips that lashed fiercely into the sky.

This salvo struck all the airships' gasbags, the warheads tearing through the decaying skin. Flames instantly spread along the vein-like patterns, turning the gasbags into a massive, distorted curtain of fire. The zombies inside the gondolas struggled wildly in the flames, their burning bodies falling like raindrops.

Before everyone could catch their breath, a new batch of zombie light airships arrived.

Their pods then opened, unleashing hundreds upon hundreds of zombies upon the Holy Sword K32.

The first batch of zombies that fell were instantly smashed to pieces, their severed limbs splitting open like overripe fruit. But many more zombies twisted and crawled to their feet; their bones were broken, but they could still move with difficulty, and some dragged their legs, which exposed their white bones, as they began to charge.

The entire Holy Sword K32 was immediately enveloped by a dense black tide.

"Aaaaaaahhhhh!" George pulled the trigger, firing wildly at the zombies attacking him.

The scene before me was so terrifying that only frantic screams could suppress the fear in my heart.

Fire, move, reload, fire again.

These were the only thoughts that remained in his mind at that moment.

The young deacon's pupils reflected the flames of war, each breath carrying the harshness of gunpowder smoke. His fingers gripped the trigger tightly, his knuckles white from excessive force, and his shoulder was numb and aching from pressing against the butt of the rifle for so long—he was so engrossed in his work that he was completely unaware of it.

I don't know how much time passed before everything returned to calm.

After regaining his senses, George blankly lowered his gun.

The deck was now covered with dried blood, bullet holes, and countless corpses.

The heavy machine gun barrel was twisted from overheating, resembling a withered metal vine. A small mountain of spent cartridges lay nearby.

The zombies that had invaded the deck have all been eliminated, and the survivors began to quickly clean the deck.

"We... survived?" he asked hesitantly.

When I turned around, the zombie-infested city had been largely cleared, and human convoys and aircraft had gained control of the ground and the air.

"Hahahaha!"

Without realizing it, George burst into laughter.

The crimson smoke that had enveloped the battlefield had dissipated by this time.

From the thick, impenetrable darkness of the Eternal Night District, movement came once more.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, dozens of enormous figures slowly emerged from the darkness.

That was a Level 2 zombie, hundreds of meters tall.

Giant Tyrant, Giant Screaming Banshee, Giant Webweaver, Giant Corruptor.
These giant zombies moved slowly toward the position with heavy steps.

The most conspicuous of them all is the Giant Tyrant.

They resemble a walking mountain of corpses, and just walking on them brings immense pressure.

Each of their muscles was bulging and knotted like an old steel cable, covered with a hardened scab resembling asphalt.

After a moment of stunned silence, George's collar was grabbed tightly.

He turned his head and saw that it was the middle-aged deacon.

"This is probably the last wave," he said urgently. "If we can hold out against this wave, we'll survive!"

The first to launch an attack was the giant screaming banshee.

Their chest cavities expanded abnormally like an accordion, and then they emitted a deafening scream.

The high-frequency, trembling scream caused everyone's eardrums to rupture and bleed.

But they quickly quieted down.

Because the mobile city providing fire support from the rear launched a bombardment.

At the same time, the giant net weavers curled up and leaped into the air.

These giant zombies leaped hundreds of meters and landed near several mobile cities.

This includes the Holy Sword K32.

At that moment, George on the deck was very close to it.

It has four mouthparts split open at the neck, multiple thick, spider-like limbs, and huge, wriggling compound eyes.

The next second, the web weaver sprayed a large amount of spider silk onto the Holy Sword K32.

All the cannons of the Holy Sword K32 opened fire on it.

The web weaver, struck at close range, let out a series of mournful howls and transformed into a massive, raging fireball.

After letting out a sigh of relief, George couldn't help but look towards the direction of the Eternal Night District.

Movement came again from the darkness, and a zombie-infested mobile city slowly drove out.

Its flags, city paint scheme, and the zombie members on its decks were all dressed in black military uniforms.

The leader was a female zombie.

She wore a classic black tulle dress, an elegant hat, and her face was covered with a light veil.

A bead of sweat involuntarily slid down George's forehead.

Although this time there was only one zombie-infested city, he still had a bad feeling.

The subsequent behavior of this zombie city undoubtedly confirmed his unease.

It unleashed unprecedented speed, ruthlessly reaping and destroying the human mobile cities on the battlefield.

Experienced and ruthless tactical evasion, and precise seizing of opportunities.
The zombie convoy and flight formation deployed to the outside, the zombie lookouts on the deck, the zombie gunners, and the zombie combat captains.

Both in terms of tactics and personnel quality, this zombie mobile city is top-notch.

Within just over ten minutes, several mobile cities were destroyed.

The human side, which had initially held a firm grip on victory, suddenly found themselves in grave danger.

Just as George inwardly cried out in alarm, a mobile city unexpectedly stepped forward.

After taking a closer look at its appearance, he was immediately stunned.

That was the flagship city of humanity, the Saint.

Its lord is Bishop Hiss, the supreme commander of the human faction.

The mobile city continued its advance, clashing with the zombie city.

The two sides exchanged fire at extremely close range, maneuvering to evade enemy attacks, creating a thrilling scene.

George's eyes widened in surprise.

He never expected that this high bishop would fight so bravely!

The Saint ultimately destroyed the enemy's flank, forcing them to fire smoke shells and retreat.

Then, this mobile city became like a flag on the battlefield, leading everyone to sweep away the remaining enemies.

This time, humanity emerged victorious.

Once he was sure it was safe on the deck, George slowly sat down against the railing.

Only then did he feel the sharp pain coming from the web of his hand and shoulder.

As a relieved smile appeared on his lips, he also wiped the sweat from his forehead.

This time, I finally survived.

Looking around, the position had become a mess, even to the point of being completely destroyed.

The Saint then led the garrison in a retreat.

Now, the positions need to be redeployed.

Just then, someone gently patted his shoulder.

Turning his head, he saw that it was the middle-aged deacon.

He looked around at the deck and the battlefield, nodded slightly, and lit a cigarette.

"How does it feel to be alive, kid?"

George nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

"Sir, could I have a cigarette?"

(End of this chapter)