The gunfire and explosions in the underground parking garage finally subsided.
A man draped in animal hides, with a necklace of teeth around his neck, was dragged out of the garage entrance by two young players supporting him from either side.
Even covered in blood and with his hands bound, he was still babbling and shouting threats.
Unfortunately, his efforts were doomed to be futile. The surrounding players could not understand a word he was saying.
As a war criminal, he would be sent to Dawn City to stand trial under the new Alliance's laws.
After that, the gallows of justice awaited him.
Aside from Fox Fang, all 282 raiders who stubbornly resisted had been killed.
It was not that no one wanted to surrender. They simply never had the chance.
The brutal street fighting was like a rolling meat grinder. Especially in the pitch-black underground garage, forget taking prisoners—avoiding friendly fire was already impressive enough. No one had the luxury of holding back.
Both the Death Corps and the Ape Fang tribe that led the charge suffered considerable casualties.
Watching his soot-covered subordinates emerge from the underground garage, Ape Fang's face was full of heartache.
In that brutal round of street fighting alone, his tribe had lost at least twenty percent of its forces, leaving behind two hundred corpses...
But when he saw Fox Fang's miserable fate, that small pang of pain immediately vanished.
These were necessary sacrifices.
Everything had been worth it...
Unlike the conflicted Ape Fang and the cannon fodder who had survived the disaster, the players who emerged from the underground garage had a completely different vibe despite suffering heavy casualties themselves.
"Shotguns are forever!"
"Seriously! They're insanely strong in street fighting!"
"The LD-47 is still a little weak up close. It overpenetrates way too badly