Muscle Dog

The bosses on both sides stepped back, and their underlings started brawling.

No one knew who shouted, "For the God-Emperor!"

Then both sides charged into battle.

What followed was a melee straight out of Warhammer 40,000, with cold weapons and firearms appearing at once. Both sides' morale was absurdly high.

They were just a bunch of Underhive Gangs, yet they hacked at each other like they had been buffed by some morale boost, with no intention of retreating.

At the very center of the battlefield, in the blink of an eye, the bodies piled up into a mountain.

Then someone planted a Fertilizer Gang flag atop the heap of corpses. A group of Fertilizer Gang gunmen rushed up the corpse mountain and fought from its peak all the way to its base, wildly blasting enemies with all manner of ramshackle guns.

Bro Mountain. Though it was only the youth version of an Underhive mortal gang fight, this was still an essential part of the Warhammer 40,000 experience!

The Chemical Gang outnumbered the Fertilizer Gang, but they were just a bunch of Poison Insects. At most, the injections made them Poison Insects who could not feel pain. A steel pipe to the head would still kill them. So the two sides were currently locked in a war of attrition.

Inside the crane's operator cabin, Li Qinwu steadily operated his semi-automatic battle rifle, firing accurately at a rate of one shot every four or five seconds.

Before every shot, he would remind Little Knife beside him.

"About 250 meters ahead. See that Chemical Dog on the blue container?"

Little Knife nodded. "I see him."

Bang!!

Li Qinwu fired. The man's head exploded, and he died.

"On the left, more than 300 meters away. See that pompadour holding a torch?"

"I see him."

Bang!!

The pompadour took a shot to the neck. He clutched his spurting wound and fell, his torch going out.

"See that Chemical Dog over at Bro Mountain, 200 meters away?"

"I see him."

Bang!!

"Uh... I think I missed that one..."

"You hit the unlucky guy beside him. Count it!"

In this bizarre atmosphere of shooting while keeping score, Li Qinwu emptied a fifteen-round magazine, earning six kills and 1,800 bucks.

He tossed the empty magazine to Little Knife, who handed him a fresh one and began loading rounds. Li Qinwu continued firing.

After emptying three magazines in a row, the barrel was getting hot. Li Qinwu put away the gun and prepared to change positions.

"Huh? We're not shooting anymore?"

Little Knife asked in confusion.

"We're changing positions. We might have been spotted after shooting for so long. How many did you get?"

"Seventeen."

Little Knife followed Li Qinwu down from the crane. The two ran all the way to the western side of the battlefield, more than a kilometer away, leaving Little Knife gasping for breath.

There was a cluster of empty containers here. It was quiet, on the battlefield's flank, with no one around.

Seeing there was no way to climb onto the containers, Li Qinwu said to Little Knife, "Go squat beside that container and give me a boost."

Little Knife did as told and squatted down. Li Qinwu stepped on his shoulders, gripped the edge of the container with both hands, and pulled himself up in a single motion.

"Give me your hand."

Li Qinwu reached down and pulled Little Knife up.

The view here was not as good as from the crane, but they could still see the battlefield.

The moment Little Knife found his footing, he heard a burst of intense, muffled gunfire. The crane operator cabin where they had just been was blanketed in bullets, riddled with dents and holes.

Little Knife instantly broke into a cold sweat. If they had still been up there, he would already have been shredded meat!

"Hey! Focus! Keep count for me!"

Li Qinwu shouted and lay prone atop the container.

He took off his backpack and placed it in front of him, resting the rifle on it. Little Knife hurriedly lay down as well, gripping magazines and loose rounds in his hands. By now, he was completely following Li Qinwu's lead.

Li Qinwu lay there for over thirty seconds, waiting for his heartbeat to settle before he slowly began firing.

Changing positions had also been to let the gun cool down. It had gotten hot after three magazines, and the run had cooled it off nicely.

The semi-automatic battle rifle rang out across the battlefield once more. Every one to three shots, a Chemical Gang member was killed.

This drew the attention of Mother, the Chemical Gang's leader.

Li Qinwu's gunfire was far too distinctive and deadly. What kind of fighting was this? Everyone else was hacking away with big blades, and those with guns only had piles of homemade junk that could not shoot far, useful only for spraying wildly at close range. Who fought like him, carrying out precise long-range shooting?

Mother looked toward the battlefield's flank, where muzzle flashes occasionally flickered in the darkness, and spoke to a muscular man built like a bear.

"Baby, go bring Mama that gunman's head."

The burly man knelt, kissed Pigtail Mama's boot, and looked at her with a face full of longing.

Pigtail Mama raised her hand. A needle sprang from her metal bracer and pierced the burly man's neck, injecting a vial of drugs into him.

The burly man instantly went red-hot. A dose of Rage Drug turned him into a little superhuman, and he ran toward Li Qinwu's position on the flank with the speed of an Olympic athlete.

Li Qinwu was still firing accurately from atop the container when he heard heavy footsteps rushing toward him, drawing his attention.

He saw a two-meter giant who looked like he had spent two and a half years bodybuilding, his head sharpened from too many injections, charging at him at terrifying speed!

"Holy shit!"

Li Qinwu jumped in fright, swung his gun around, and fired at the thing.

Bang bang bang bang bang!!

Five shots in a row, and every damn one missed. The guy was running too fast; moving targets were hard to hit.

"Ahhh! Hurry, kill him! It's a Muscle Dog! He'll tear us apart!!"

Little Knife screamed in alarm, clearly traumatized by the thing.

Li Qinwu ignored him. He rose into a crouch, took a deep breath, held it, and lined up the iron sights on the rapidly approaching Muscle Dog.

Bang!!

Splat!

The Muscle Dog was shot in the thigh. The large-caliber bullet tore off a chunk of flesh. The fast-running Muscle Dog fell and rolled dozens of times across the ground, his exposed skin scraped raw by the surface.

"You... you hit him!!"

Little Knife shouted excitedly, but Li Qinwu was not excited. That shot had not been fatal. He aimed again at the Muscle Dog, who was slowly getting back up, intending to finish him off.

He centered the target in his iron sights and pulled the trigger. Click. The bolt locked open; he was out of bullets!

"Fuck! Magazine!!"

Li Qinwu shouted. Little Knife snapped back to his senses and hurriedly handed him a full magazine.

Li Qinwu reloaded quickly, but by then the fallen Muscle Dog had already gotten back to his feet. Blood gushed from his thigh, where the bullet had torn away a huge piece of muscle, though it had not broken the bone.

His pupils had shrunk to pinpoints, foam spilling from the corner of his mouth as his entire body trembled unnaturally.

He did not feel the pain of his thigh wound at all. He screamed hysterically, "Mama told me to bring your heads back!!!"

The Muscle Dog's muscles tightened all over as he sprinted at the very limit of human speed, blood gushing from his thigh wound.

In less than ten seconds, he covered more than a hundred meters, charged up to the container, and jumped.

Just then, Li Qinwu finished changing magazines. He violently racked the bolt, raised the rifle, aimed at the Muscle Dog leaping toward him, and, amid Little Knife's terrified scream, rapidly pulled the trigger.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!!