69novels Chapter 115 Manhattan Blackwatch and Blacklight Virus
Chapter 115 Manhattan Blackwatch and Blacklight Virus
Chapter 115 Manhattan Blackwatch and Blacklight Virus
If hell had a shape, it would be called Manhattan.
The once bustling Times Square has now become a slaughterhouse filled with flesh and steel wreckage.
The sky took on a sickly, dark red hue, like an old scar, caused by the high concentration of black light virus spores refracting sunlight in the air.
On the streets, the glass walls of skyscrapers were already shattered.
A dark red biomass that grows like a tumor, or, in military terms, "viral blanket."
It was spreading wildly along the concrete walls, as if the entire city had become a giant, breathing creature.
"This is the beacon of freedom we swore to defend to the death? It looks like a moldy, rotten tomato."
On the rooftop of a high-rise building three blocks from the combat zone, a man in a dark officer's overcoat put down his high-powered tactical binoculars, took a cigar from his pocket, and spoke with a dark humor that suggested he had seen it all before.
"Sir, according to the seventh epidemic prevention regulation, exposure to the respiratory tract at the edge of yellow and red zones increases the probability of infection by 14.5%."
The adjutant standing behind him reminded him expressionlessly.
The face hidden beneath the full-face gas mask showed no emotion, only a gaze that constantly swept across the battlefield below.
"Relax, Lieutenant. If this son of a bitch really wants to kill me, even ten gas masks wouldn't help."
The commander chuckled coldly, but ultimately kept the cigar between his fingers without lighting it.
His gaze fell on the armband on the adjutant's shoulder.
It was an extremely eye-catching sign: a white sword crossed against a black shield background, with a dripping red skull in the center.
Blackwatch.
You won't find this unit's designation in the U.S. military's organizational structure.
They are not included in Congress’s budget report and are not bound by any Geneva Conventions.
They are a unit specifically established to deal with biological threats, viral outbreaks, and all kinds of "inhumane disasters".
When the world comes to an end, we will be the last line of defense.
Blackwatch does the dirtiest work, kills the most dangerous monsters, kills infected civilians, and even, when necessary, nukes an entire city.
This is the creed of Blackwatch: absolute ruthlessness, absolute efficiency, and absolute mercilessness.
In their eyes, apart from the uninfected, everyone else is a mobile biofuel.
"How is the cleanup progressing?" The commander looked down at the devastated streets below.
"The defenses are solid, sir. The 'Scavenger' team is carrying out the standard cleanup." The adjutant reported.
Zoom in.
On Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, a 50-man Blackwatch regular infantry company is demonstrating textbook-perfect "meat grinder tactics."
"Da da da! Da da da!"
The crisp, rhythmic bursts of three short shots echoed through the streets.
There are no rookies like those in movies and TV shows who just close their eyes, yell, and fire away; every soldier here is a ruthless killing machine.
Ahead, ordinary black light infected bodies surged in like a tide.
These monsters, once New York City residents, are now covered in fleshy growths and roar as they lunge at the defense line.
The soldiers, expressionless, precisely pulled their triggers, and almost every second, several Blacklight Infected beings fell.
"Front row, move closer! Flamethrowers, burn that fungal carpet! Don't let them recombine!"
With the crisp command from the junior sergeant, the flamethrower operator pulled the trigger, and the orange napalm bomb transformed into a fiery dragon.
The dozen or so infected creatures, along with the biomass on the ground, were reduced to ashes. A pungent, burnt meat smell immediately filled the air.
The riflemen, using the wrecked car wreckage as cover, carried out extremely precise headshots.
The gleaming yellow bullet casings bounced on the asphalt road, making a crisp "clink" sound.
At the very front of the line, several gunners, armed with M4A1 assault rifles and M320 grenade launchers, were carrying out their mission in an orderly manner.
With a series of muffled "thump! thump!" sounds, high-explosive incendiary grenades traced deadly parabolas in the air, striking with extreme precision into the center of the horde of corpses at the crossroads, which was packed like sardine cans.
"boom--!"
The violent explosion instantly cleared out a large area.
The orange-red fireball, accompanied by a shockwave, sent severed limbs and pieces of dark red, rotting flesh flying into the air like raindrops.
For these Blackwatch soldiers who were used to hell, this was not a massacre; it was just a "highly efficient physical traffic management."
Amidst the interwoven barrage of fire, riflemen specifically tasked with "autopsies" were advancing steadily with meticulous tactical steps.
In Manhattan, ruled by the Blacklight virus, never trust a corpse lying quietly on the ground.
"Lying down" does not mean "death". Even if only half of your intestines are hanging out, these monsters can suddenly pounce and bite through your carotid artery in the next second.
Therefore, there is an inviolable ironclad rule in the Blackwatch infantry manual: "Always remember to finish off enemies."
The soldiers pulled the triggers expressionlessly, the butts of their rifles pressed firmly against their shoulders.
They spared no expense in using ammunition against every infected body on the ground that was still twitching slightly or whose disgusting biomass was still writhing on its body.
"Pfft! Pfft!"
Two 5.56mm bullets are used as a set. One bullet severs the spinal nerve, and the other blows open the skull.
The putrid black blood mixed with brain matter splattered onto their military boots, but they didn't even flinch.
In the words of their company commander, "Taxpayers' money is just for show; military spending isn't something you can skimp on. Don't wait until you get bitten and infected before regretting not spending a few more cents for peace of mind."
On the highest points of abandoned office buildings on both sides of the main road, the real Grim Reaper is lurking in the shadows of broken glass curtain walls.
The sniper team lay prone on the dusty concrete. The spotter lowered his high-powered tactical rangefinder.
"Wind direction southeast, wind speed 3, distance 420. At 11 o'clock, above the traffic light monitoring pole, there's a flea gathering strength."
The main shooter next to him didn't even say a word.
His Barrett M82A1 anti-materiel sniper rifle, mounted on a sandbag and equipped with a special silencer, emitted only a muffled sound like the dry cough of death.
"Pfft"
Four hundred meters away, a mutant that had just climbed up a lamppost had its leg muscles fully tense and was preparing to descend into the infantry defense line below.
In the half-second of airtime it spent jumping, its upper body was struck head-on by an invisible, raging hammer, leaving it no room to struggle before exploding into a foul-smelling cloud of blood mist.
Its disgusting lower body, propelled by inertia, flew forward more than ten meters before slamming onto the exterior of an abandoned bus with a "splat" and slowly sliding off.
"Hit. Next one."
The observer's voice remained flat as he continued searching for prey through the scope.
"The outer perimeter of the infected area has been cleared, and a containment zone has been established."
The adjutant pressed his earpiece, listened to the report from the front lines, and then turned to look at the commander.
"Sir, the decoy is in place, and the target Alpha has been successfully isolated at the intersection in the fourth block. It's alone."
The commander's lips finally curled into a cruel smile as he crushed the unlit cigar against the railing.
"Very good. Tell those soldiers to step back and watch the show."
"Let our Superboys out. Tell the armored battalion and the army aviation squadron to get the party started."
In the middle of the blocked intersection, a colossal creature was letting out a deafening roar.
That was a hunter.
The masterpiece of the Blacklight virus, a true killing machine.
The hunter is nearly four meters long and is covered in dark red chitin armor that is as hard as rock.
It has no eyes; its entire face consists of a gaping maw filled with razor-sharp fangs.
Its robust hind limbs feature a reverse joint structure, giving it a terrifying jumping ability capable of leaping several stories high.
Those two enormous front claws are sharper than the highest-grade military alloy, capable of tearing through the steel plates of an armored vehicle like paper.
If an ordinary infantry company encountered this thing, it would be slaughtered in less than three minutes.
But today, it faces a "trap" meticulously set by Blackwatch to hunt it down.
"Boom! Boom!"
Without any prior warning, the battle erupted immediately with two earth-shattering cannon shots.
Two M1A2 Abrams main battle tanks positioned at opposite ends of the street corner opened fire first.
The 120mm smoothbore cannon spat out a scorching tongue of fire, and the depleted uranium armor-piercing round, with a sonic boom, slammed into the hunter's body.
The immense kinetic energy sent the several-ton monster stumbling backward, its hard chitinous shell exploding with sparks and black blood.
"roar--!"
The hunter let out an angry roar. Its powerful fighting instincts made it instantly abandon its charge, immediately crossing its two huge claws in front of it to protect the soft biological core of its chest and head, and was forced into a defensive posture.
Just as it bent its knees, preparing to jump and leap onto the rooftop to escape the barrage of fire.
"Don't even think about running, monster. Your anti-aircraft net has arrived."