Reservations
With its long history and generations of accumulated wealth, connections, and resources, the Saint's Association had more than one trump card powerful enough to keep in reserve.
If they were willing to go all out and pay any price, the Saint's Association was confident it could swiftly cut through the mess and wipe out the Ghoul Curse before it could take hold in the depths of the Tar Desert—even with those more terrifying Mutated Zombies already appearing.
At any time, cost-effectiveness should come first.
If five dollars could take care of an opponent, why spend a hundred thousand? Wouldn't that make you an idiot and a spendthrift?
But right now, the most suitable option was the Biological Combat Weapon Armored Nightmare, which had just been developed by France's Moller Institute. It had performed well in its previous round of live-fire exercises in Africa. The local militias had been completely outmatched. If the peacekeeping forces hadn't been alerted, and Li Bai hadn't gotten involved, that reckless experiment would probably have continued.
Even so, the data they had collected so far was enough to prove the Armored Nightmare's combat capabilities.
Unless it was hit with heavy weapons fire, ordinary infantry weapons were completely useless against it.
The few special zombies mutated by the Ghoul Curse probably couldn't break through the monstrous beast's hide, either. Even artificial mutants like the Bombardier Beetle, which could shoot down drones, would be helpless against it.
The reason Hercules, the Saint of Strength, had recommended the Armored Nightmare was that Dr. Moller, head of the Moller Institute, was one of his people.
You didn't let good opportunities go to outsiders. Even if you were going to show off, you might as well let one of your own do it.
"Armored Nightmare?"
The term was completely unfamiliar