Hounds Unleashed

Those who should be running for their lives in panic and praying to God for mercy were those self-righteous administrators and scientists!

Russell extended both hands and pointed his fingers empty into the air.

The metal collars on the necks of hundreds of mutants below, regardless of whether they had failed due to a power outage, made a soft click at the exact same time.

Their internal structures were completely destroyed and twisted by an invisible force, then they fell off on their own, clinking and clanking as they dropped to the ground.

"We're free, we're free!" cheers of ecstasy erupted once again.

Meanwhile, in the main control room on the top floor of the underground base, the senior base officials who watched this scene through the surveillance system that had not yet completely failed turned ashen-faced and felt a chill in their hearts.

Especially upon seeing the image of Russell suspended in midair, freeing hundreds of mutants with a wave of his hand, their fear of that white figure reached its peak.

"It's over..." someone muttered in a daze.

The harsh alarm sirens still resounded in every corner, but now they sounded more like the death knell tolling for this base.

The soldiers who had originally been calm and composed now had faces written with tension and a hard-to-conceal panic. Some veterans who had experienced early mutant containment riots felt their hands and feet grow cold, as if they saw the gates of Hell swinging open.

They knew all too well how terrifying mutants without the control of suppression collars were.

The only reason they could lord it over them and act tyrannically on ordinary days was because they had a chokehold on the other party. Once this shackles were broken, the docile lambs would instantly turn into ferocious beasts ready to devour people!

The truth was just as they expected, and perhaps even more tragic.

Under Russell's incitement and leadership, the newly freed mutants quickly and spontaneously organized themselves.

Instead of blindly charging forward, guided by some mutants with slight leadership or reconnaissance capabilities, they split into several groups, spreading along the passages like a fatal virus to other imprisoned areas of the base.

Mind controllers easily dug maps and passwords out of the brains of straggling soldiers or low-level researchers; energy releasers blasted through obstacle after obstacle with lasers, fire, and lightning; physical enhancers transformed into human-shaped battering rams.

There were even mutants capable of short-range teleportation responsible for raiding key nodes and communication lines.

The flames of revenge intertwined with the instinct for survival, bursting forth with terrifying power.

Every passage turned into a killing field.

The sounds of gunfire, explosions, and screams mixed together.

The defensive lines organized by the soldiers appeared fragile and vulnerable in the face of bizarre and unpredictable mutant abilities.

Severed limbs and debris splashed everywhere, the walls were coated with sticky blood, and the thick stench of blood was almost suffocating.

If Hell had a physical form, it was likely the miniature reflection of the Agrawal Base at this moment.

And as the planner and igniter of all this, Russell moved through this bloody purgatory without much moral burden or guilt in his heart.

Having fused with the original body's memories, he naturally inherited that bone-deep hatred of being repeatedly tortured as an experimental subject and treated like pigs and dogs.

Watching those executioners who had once looked down upon him and bullied him arbitrarily now fleeing in panic and dying in agony, he felt only a thorough and unadulterated exhilaration.

The command center.

Colonel Aaron Connolly, in charge of the entire base, had a complexion ashen and blue like a Deadman, his fists clenched until his knuckles turned white, staring fixedly at that white figure on the main screen who was still striking and advancing steadily amidst the chaos.

"It's this bastard, this damned mutant monster, he ruined everything, ruined my base, ruined my future."

Colonel Connolly's roar echoed through the command room, his spittle almost spraying onto the console in front of him, his eyes filled with bloodshot veins and mad hatred.

"I want him to die, I want him hacked to pieces. Release the Hounds! Send all the Hounds out, target the mutant Russell. I want to watch with my own eyes as he's torn to shreds!"

Hearing the word "Hounds", the adjutant beside him's expression changed, and he hesitated as he stepped forward to advise in a low voice:

"Sir, deploying the Hounds requires at least 12 hours of psychological stabilizer injections and deep command-instilling procedures, otherwise there's an extremely high risk of losing control, and they might even turn on us.

We didn't have a contingency plan beforehand, and if we release them in an emergency now, I'm afraid..."

His words came to an abrupt halt under Colonel Connolly's fierce, head-turning glare that looked as though it wanted to devour people. The adjutant had no doubt that the next second he might be shot dead by the furious colonel.

"...Yes, sir, I'll make the arrangements immediately." The adjutant gave a start, stood at attention, saluted, and turned, practically running out of the command room.

Colonel Connolly only then let out a heavy snort, fixing his bloodshot eyes back on Russell on the screen, his face intertwined with extreme hatred and a morbid sense of elation, as if he could already foresee the scene of Russell's flesh flying in all directions under the claws and teeth of the Hounds.

He was so confident naturally because of how terrifying the Hounds were.

The so-called Hounds were mutants whose independent wills and most of their memories had been destroyed by the military through extreme methods, followed by forced manipulation through hypnosis, chip implants, or mutant mind controllers.

Their humanity had been obliterated, leaving only beast-like combat instincts and mechanical obedience to specific commands. They were pure combat puppets and cleanup tools, specifically used to hunt down high-risk mutants or suppress internal mutinies.

While the individual abilities of these Hounds might vary in strength, they felt no pain, knew no fear, and possessed the characteristic of acting in coordination with commands. Coupled with the fact that they were mutants themselves, this made them formidable weapons for dealing with berserk mutants.

At this moment, the situation in the base was completely out of control, and conventional troops were retreating step by step. It was precisely the time to play this trump card.

Out of a towering hatred for Russell, the culprit who had ruined everything for him, Colonel Connolly did not hesitate to designate Russell as the highest-priority eradication target for the Hounds pack.

At this moment, Russell was being surrounded by a group of initially integrated mutants, advancing forward along a relatively wide main passage.

At the very front of the team, a mutant with Telepathy was closing his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temples as he read the base's structural information just acquired from the brain of a wounded officer.

"Hey! This way." The telepath opened his eyes, pointing to a fork ahead with excitement on his face.

"Turn this corner, then go through a corridor about fifty meters long, and we can reach the dedicated freight elevator leading to the upper floors of the base. Taking the elevator, we can go straight close to the surface, where there are evacuation routes leading directly to the outside world.

Gosh, I can't wait to breathe air without the smell of disinfectant."

Just as his voice fell, before his laughter could even escape—

Swish—Puff!

A dazzling, eye-catching crimson laser beam shot out from the corner ahead without warning, striking the telepath's head with absolute precision.

That head of his, already bulging with blue veins from overuse of his ability, burst apart instantly like a watermelon smashed by a hammer, red and white matter splashing everywhere.

The few mutants standing beside him froze completely.

Almost at the same exact time.

Piercing screams and the terrifying sound of flesh being torn apart also came from the rear of the team. Everyone turned their heads in a panic to see that at the tail end of the group, the bodies of several mutants were being ripped apart.

Severed arms and limbs flew up accompanied by splashing blood, instantly dyeing the narrow passage a sheet of scarlet.

"Enemy attack, it's the Hounds! They've released the Hounds."

An older mutant with a bit more experience screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice filled with terror.

Russell's eyes turned cold, and he immediately understood what had happened.

The military indeed still had a trump card, and it was the most vicious kind.

They were using fellow beings whose minds they had destroyed to hunt down fellow beings seeking freedom.