With everything ready, Lin Mo pressed the Gatling's red button.
"Whirrr-"
The motor began spinning up, its low hum rising to a shrill whine, as if the Grim Reaper's chainsaw were starting.
The next second.
"BRRRRRRRR-!!!"
A deafening string of roars instantly drowned out every howl and scream on the battlefield.
A fiery whip of tracer rounds shot down from above, lashing viciously into the densest ranks of the Demon Clan's vanguard!
Ever seen a combine harvester cutting wheat?
The Demon Clan's vanguard was that wheat, falling in swathes!
Wherever the fiery whip swept, Lesser Demons, Hellhounds, and whatever other hideous Demon Clan units were there had their bodies instantly shredded into flying scraps of flesh and black blood.
There were no screams or struggles, because neither sound nor scattering flesh could keep up with the bullets tearing their bodies apart.
Lin Mo held the Gatling steadily in both hands, his arm muscles taut as he controlled the muzzle, sweeping from left to right.
He brutally plowed out a fan-shaped "death zone" a hundred meters long.
"Hahahaha, dazed and blazing!!!"
Lin Mo laughed wildly,
"This feels amazing!!!"
Holding a Gatling that spat blue fire in both hands, killing hostile Demon Clan troops and contributing to his country-who could understand how that felt?
Within this area, a shockingly huge gap appeared in the tide of the Demon Clan's vanguard, and black pulp made of blood and flesh covered the ground.
The Assault Platoon Leader stared at this "monster of a commander," who was operating a Gatling Vulcan Cannon alone, as though looking at a monster.
Seemingly fired up by the sight as well, he refused to be outdone and roared at the soldiers beside him,
"Fire!!!"
"Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!"
"Ratatatat!"
Several heavy machine guns roared at once, their large-caliber 12.7 mm rounds