Many Bofur warriors who tried to kill themselves were swallowed by the tentacles before they could even resist. So long as they did not suffer immediate brain death, no one could succeed. After all, the Collectors could perform repairs at the cellular level.
Of course, the capture operation had not gone entirely smoothly. Among the entire Bofur pursuit force, their commander remained the last one not captured by the Collectors.
The commander of the Bofur pursuit force was no pushover. In the cramped cockpit, he actually tried to resist the Collectors' attack with the melee weapon he carried.
"Get lost! You damned aliens!"
The weapon in the commander's hand was quite strange. Strictly speaking, it was a melee weapon, but it was alive. It would inexplicably grow, then inexplicably contract again.
It was like both a whip and a sword. It could bend freely, grow branches from itself like a plant, and was extraordinarily sharp. According to the Collectors' tests, its sharpness was at least no less than that of their Monomolecular Blades.
But even so, trying to escape the fate of being submerged by Rhizomes was still nothing more than wishful thinking.
After exchanging information among themselves, the Rhizomes immediately swarmed forward.
"Get away!"
The commander desperately swung his weapon. The strange melee weapon cut down some Rhizomes, but there were simply too many of them for it to defend against them all.
"Aah!"
The intense stabbing pain made the commander cry out. Rhizomes that had found an opening pierced the neural network along his spine from behind with their sharp tips and injected large quantities of paralytic substances.
The side effect of injecting so much of those paralytic substances at once was an incomparably intense stabbing pain.
In the end, consumed by extreme unwillingness, the commander completely lost