"Fuck, I knew something was bound to go wrong! Avalon's boss gave me a real danger sense! There's definitely something wrong with this city! Something seriously wrong!"
The green gargoyle, "Airliner," had already taken off in a hurry. As Yansang nervously steered it around the plague-ridden remains of Westco City and swooped toward Bank Street, Old Qu complained beside him:
"We shouldn't have let them go in!"
"What's the point of saying that now? Draw your gun and load it with buckshot! Get ready to defend us from the air! There's a flock of carrion birds up ahead—don't let them get close. We're already flying dangerously fast for a rescue. If we hit anything, we'll stall and crash.
There aren't any parachutes here!
Fuck!
Why hasn't any player tried making a parachute? At least spare a thought for the poor bastards who want to fly but don't plan on becoming vampires!"
Yansang's day job had given him a truly strong heart. The more tense and dangerous the situation, the steadier he became.
He kept up his aerial view from the scouting spell, swearing to relieve the pressure, while steering the gargoyle and shouting orders at Old Qu, who had panicked.
His multitasking finally got Old Qu back on track, too.
Crouching halfway down on the gargoyle's broad back, Old Qu drew the shotgun from behind him and took aim. Three blasts shattered the undead carrion birds swooping in from the flank, but those precise kills were a drop in the bucket given the situation.
Who knew what Brother Bang and Meow Brother had run into in the bank's underground vault? The entire stretch of Bank Street, which had been quiet before, was now "bustling with activity."
A horde of plague-tainted skeleton warriors surged out of the ruins and surrounded the