Long-term salvation

This place is more uncomfortable than facing the monster in the dense forest and swamp. The invisible mental oppression and the sticky air come together. There is no stinging, no whisper, only the despair as if watching a millstone slowly rolling towards you.

The height of the gallery's ceiling changed randomly with the visitors' breathing, almost crushing their skulls at one moment, and expanding into the tall vault of a cathedral the next moment.

Price heard screaming from the corridor.

It was not a roar through tangible vocal cords, but a roar through the distortion of space itself. When blood oozed from the corners of Price's eyes, he finally understood the truth about the building. This was a nest carefully cut, constructed, and shaped by an indescribable thing, a circle drawn in the dream world by a terrifying god that transcended the boundaries of human imagination and cognition.

Price thought he might be screaming too, but it was at that moment that he realized what he was about to face.

The corridor was suddenly shortened, and a gorgeous wooden door marked "Reception Room" appeared in front of them, and now, the door was slowly opening.

Taking a deep breath, Price opened the door and walked in.

This time, Price actually screamed:

"What the Fvck?! What the fuck is that thing around you, Mr. Rhodes?!"

The ghost and soap following behind hadn't reacted yet, but when they walked out from Price's left and right sides, they almost screamed at the same time as Price:

“Oh God!”

Rhodes was sitting on the sofa with his legs spread out. On his left was a three-legged monster with long tentacles twisting on its head, and on his right was a huge piece of meat with black whip-like tentacles attached to it that were swaying constantly. One of the tentacle licked Rhodes' cheek.

If there was anything acceptable, it would be the girl sitting on Rhode's lap. However, a keyhole-like wound was opening on her forehead, and countless eyes were staring at the "guests" who broke into this place - like a strange and hateful witch who wanted to drag humans to death.

"God? The Outer Gods are here, gentlemen."

The corners of Rhode's mouth curled up slightly, with a faked expression on his face. He glanced at Nayako and Qianye beside him. They had cute and delicate faces and were responding with inexplicable smiles. His heart sank, and he suddenly felt that his future reputation might be very bad.

All in all, let’s deal with the things at hand first.

After a brief pause of a few seconds, Rhode looked at Price and the other two, who were completely stunned and whose SAN values ​​were almost empty, and said:

"These are representatives of powerful gods from the universe. They..."

"We are Rod's past, present, and future companions, and we will obey any decision he makes," the Dark Young said softly, her every word shocking the mortals. "Welcome to our 'home', human."

The word "home" smoothly shifted to "nest" in Price's ears. He was certain that neither Rhode nor the monsters in front of him spoke a word falsely. They were from the distant stars, beings beyond the comprehension of modern human civilization. As for the even more terrifying word "partner"...

The veteran who had escaped death countless times on the battlefield looked at Rhodes, almost shedding tears of blood:

"Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Rhodes. You are willing to sacrifice yourself for humanity."

"It's not hard—No, no, no, just wait a minute! You should also return to your usual self right now!"

After reaching out and knocking on the heads of the three offspring of the evil god, Rhode blinked at them. Although from his own perspective, these three guys who were eager to cause chaos in the world did not change... However, to Price and the others, they saw the terrifying monster image disappear in an instant, transforming into three lovely women of different ages.

Loli, girl, mature woman, if you appear in this image, you can indeed deceive people.

Sitting in a daze on the sofa opposite Rhodes, Price and the other two subconsciously straightened their backs, sitting upright like elementary school students in class - they didn't know what expression to make, and could only let their facial muscles sway back and forth between crazy twitching and complete collapse.

"Ahem, anyway, we need to talk here," Rhode managed to control his expression. After the smirking Asuka Ikiji brought them some tea, he continued, "Every memory of your experiences here will be cursed, and these three will put you in chains to prevent leaks... You're all veterans of the army, so you'll definitely know what this means."

Hearing this, Price, who tried hard to tighten his facial muscles, nodded slightly. His eyes swept over the three descendants of the evil god who were casting a subtle threat, and then he said in a deep voice:

"I'm ready to have my memory wiped, but if I have to wear memory shackles, I have no complaints. I'm incredibly lucky to have been able to rescue the soap intact this time. I can't ask for anything more."

This saved Rhode some trouble. He breathed a sigh of relief, reached out to untie Nayako's ahoge from his neck, and continued:

"In exchange, tell me about your experiences in Iraq. I'm very interested in the Ibriya group operating there."

"Of course, Mr. Rhodes."

Chapter 430: Task Force 141's Operations in Iraq

Dream world, Hill Villa, reception room.

Taking a sip of the illusory black tea, Price felt the rich flavor spreading between his lips and teeth, sighed, and said:

"Basra, Iraq's second-largest city. I'm afraid it will be hard for me to forget it. And of course, there's Crawford Manor."

These words made the corners of Rhode's mouth curl up slightly. He still remembered it clearly. After all, not everyone could go against the current in the nightmare woven by the descendants of the evil god.

Forced to smile, Captain Price looked down at the tea in the cup and said softly:

"The operation took place at night. The weather along the Persian Gulf coast in March wasn't too hot, so it was perfect for our operation – to rescue a CIA agent investigating the 'arms smuggling channels from Ukraine to the Middle East.'"

"That sounds like inside job theft, Captain Price."

"The CIA has grown into a behemoth, Mr. Rhodes, like a hydra, each head potentially possessing its own agenda. In the past, it was held together by the Soviet Union, and now, as it continues to struggle in this aftermath, the future is uncertain."

Price shrugged, apparently accustomed to this situation. Then he took another sip of black tea and slowly began his story.

+++++++

Basra, Iraq.

The night clung to the sky above the city like solidified asphalt, and the crescent moon was looming in the clouds.

Several uninvited guests were slowly moving through the darkness. They took a helicopter from Kuwait and then transferred to a car that had been prepared in advance on the edge of the city to enter the target area:

The abandoned logistics warehouse area in the south of the city.

Once, goods passed through this area, traveling north along the Euphrates and Tigris rivers, but now only the detritus of plunder by refugees and fleeing soldiers remains... and pure malice lurks in the shadows.

Captain Price, leader of Task Force 141, looked out at the dimmed streets in the distance. The aftermath of the Gulf War had not yet completely dissipated, and the harsh UN sanctions had dashed Iraq's hopes for rapid reconstruction.

Those who die in the war are lucky, but those who survive will be tortured again and again in the future.

"Let's keep moving forward. We're just ahead and can already see several sentries. Be careful, there are definitely hidden sentries here!"

Price told the others in Task Force 141 on the communication channel that the people coming with him this time were Soap, Ghost, Xiaoqiang (Gary Sanderson), Gaz, Sandman, and Joseph Allen. Including himself, there were a total of 7 people, which could be said to be the best of the best.

But even such an elite force was almost wiped out here!

Initially, everything went smoothly. Equipped with high-performance night vision goggles from Atlas, the soldiers of Task Force 141 entered through a breach in the southwest wall of the warehouse area, providing mutual cover and moving forward in shifts. Unmanned reconnaissance aircraft in the deep night brought them the latest intelligence:

everything is normal.

There are only a few scattered oil lamps hanging in the warehouse area. This retro lighting tool has played a role again after the decline of modern human society.

The dim light of the oil lamp cast shadows on the surrounding piles of debris. Only when the patrol passed by would the standing figure sway slightly, and then retreat into the "nest", waiting for the moment when it was needed.

"Xiao Qiang, scout ahead. Pay special attention to the shadows. The enemy could be hiding there. Even sleeping shouldn't disturb them," Price whispered, recalling the positions of the several already-scouted sentries. "Sandman, watch our backs. Everyone else, follow me closely... It's too quiet here, as quiet as a cemetery."

"And it's like the kind that's lying in a coffin in a cemetery, starting to rot right after being buried."

Soap's eyes swept through the shadows beside him, and an unexpected fear and irritation surged in his heart - just as he said, the Iraqi government, which had barely recovered from the chaos, had not yet taken care of the repair and cleanup of this place, so the warehouse area was constantly filled with the stench of diesel waste and rotten meat, and the mosquitoes and flies that were hard to see were even screaming directly in the soldiers' ears.

"Quiet."

Price, who was also feeling annoyed, shouted the order. He had already seen Xiaoqiang, who was walking in the front, raising his hand. The whole team then half-crouched and slightly stuck to the wall. Then two slightly dull footsteps were heard, mixed with Afghan Pashto with a heavy accent.

After a brief thought, Price and Soap looked at each other, straightened their rifle belts, drew their daggers at the same time, walked slowly forward, and hid in the shadows.

Two figures came closer and closer, but they were not holding any lighting tools, as if they were not affected by the darkness.

"..." Price instinctively sensed something was wrong, but the arrow was on the string and had to be shot. He tapped the communicator a few times, causing a few regular muffled sounds to echo in the channel.

Everyone in Task Force 141 immediately prepared for battle.

The footsteps were still approaching.

Still approaching.

Unable to avoid it, Price pursed his lips, slowed his breathing, and reached out to tap the communicator a few more times.

"!"

Price and Soap attacked at the same time. The dagger flashed a sharp edge under the dim moonlight, but disappeared into the flesh and blood in the next second - the dagger pierced into the back of the waist of the two terrorists without any hindrance, crushing their kidneys directly - the contaminated blood quickly spread in the abdominal cavity, and slowly flowed into Price's palm along the blade of the dagger.

It was not warm blood that nourished the human body and brain, but rotten blood with a cold and faint corpse odor, filthy, dirty, and disgusting, as if a dagger had been stabbed into a corpse.

Unlike Soap, who froze for a second, Price didn't hesitate. He released the dagger and stepped back, dodging the "human's" angry counterattack. Pulling out his silenced pistol, Price fired three shots without aiming!

At this distance, only speed can determine life or death!

The gunpowder in the cartridge case exploded the moment the firing pin hit the bullet primer, and the bullet, carrying high-pressure gas, rushed into the expansion chamber of the silencer. Before the subtle and crisp gunshots began to echo in the silent warehouse area, the strange human body had exploded into three equally dirty blood flowers - liver, lung lobe, and heart - each bullet had its own destination, but each bullet failed to completely take away the life.

How can one completely kill those who should have died but have not yet died?

The answer is, fire a few more shots!

Price, who had already fallen backwards to the ground, subconsciously raised the muzzle of his gun and fired several more shots at the zombie's head, causing the monster, which still wanted to pick up a weapon to fight back, to completely collapse and return to its essence as a "corpse".

Unlike Price's swift reflexes, though Soap was equally quick, encountering an enemy who could ignore even a kidney shot still caused his thoughts to pause for a moment. At that very moment, the butt of a swung rifle struck Soap's cheek, the dull pain adding to the soldier's confusion... However, he wasn't fighting alone:

Ghost raised his gun sideways and fired several bursts from his silenced M4 carbine, piercing the zombie's head and heart, causing the latter's body to collapse straight down and fall on Soap.

Rubbing his cheek, Soap pushed away the stinking corpse, shook hands with Price who was extending his hand, and let the latter pull him up with a hint of blame.

"Whatever the enemy is, be prepared to fight back."

"I...I know, Captain," Soap breathed. He wiped the rotten blood that splashed on his face with disgust. "I won't do it again."

"very good."

Price looked at the two bodies on the ground. His face was pale and he had a sense of foreboding in his heart, but he finally spoke calmly:

"Now that we've killed the enemy sentry, there's very little time left before the alarm is triggered... Continue the mission. I hope that unfortunate CIA agent won't end up as bacon."

In this case, there is no reason to waste any more time.

Price ordered the entire team to move forward quickly, while Soap and Ghost were ordered to place bombs in other areas of the warehouse area to confuse the enemy and buy time - this was indeed a suitable job for Soap, who was good at sniping and demolition.

A few minutes later.

"Arrived at the target location, on the edge of the A-area main management building. Task Force 141 has arrived successfully."

"Visual sight of armed enemy personnel."

"Prepare to break in."

Chapter 431 Who are you?

Dream world, Hill Villa, reception room.

After listening to Price's description of the enemies, Rhodes nodded slightly. He snapped his fingers, allowing several fragments of his memory to slide in front of the three people on the sofa opposite.

"That's right. Walking corpses, the living dead, those who should be dead but haven't died yet." Rhode stirred the tea with a teaspoon without losing even a trace of water. He watched the tea swirl around, mixing in a hint of silvery-white light... After glaring at Nayako who started whistling beside him, Rhode continued.

"This is a classic Ibris tactic. Judging from Soap's experience, you've clearly recognized it. However, is the arms smuggling trade from Ukraine to the Middle East truly so thriving? It looks like NATO will have a lot of trouble in the future, although this is largely due to your own fault."

Having said that, Rhode was also wary. He knew that the Ibris Organization wanted to deal with more than just the "allies of the free world" who were now at odds with each other! After all, such a large New Antioch standing there would obviously become a thorn in the eyes of many people.

Coupled with the chaos before and after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the instigation of some people with ulterior motives, it is now extremely difficult for the intelligence agencies of the Perseus Organization (Army Without Borders) to resume their work in Ukraine - this requires more investment of funds, manpower and time.

Starting from Ukraine, Türkiye, Iraq and even the entire Middle East are piling up gunpowder, and the darkness underneath is brewing.

"Someone has already made a fortune by brokering this," Price said helplessly. "It's no secret. The only thing we can do now is to try our best to prevent NATO weapons from falling into the hands of the enemy."

Sighing, Price tried to ignore Rod's half-smile and the expression that said "Are you sure?" and continued his story.

+++++++

Basra, Iraq.

"Visual sight of armed enemy personnel."

"Prepare to break in."

Price said this, taking several deep breaths to suppress the uneasiness in his heart, but he could only hear his heart screaming in the air filled with the faint stench of corpses and formaldehyde - his heart was beating very fast, but his body was also excited by the effect of adrenaline, making his brain more clear - the veteran's finger slowly moved to the trigger, just like the others in Task Force 141.

"Follow my command, three, two, one...shoot!"