dognovel Chapter 923
Chapter 923
Dust particles danced erratically in the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the stones.
The cold, impersonal words "System online" had barely faded from the valley when, not long ago, the only sounds were the rustling of shoes, and a strange vacuum briefly descended upon it.
"puff……"
A suppressed laugh, sounding like a fart, came from some unknown corner. It was like striking a match in a room filled with hydrogen gas.
Immediately following was a burst of laughter that nearly overturned the rocks above.
"Ha! I knew it!"
The soldier at the very front slung his Thompson submachine gun over his shoulder, laughed so hard he couldn't straighten up, and even exaggeratedly wiped away non-existent tears from the corners of his eyes.
"I knew it looked familiar! Hey Tony! Look at that square head in the middle, doesn't it look like that baling machine I used to see at the Manhattan scrap yard?"
"A baling machine? I think it's that tin man that was half-finished and then kicked into the trash by the designer!"
A tall, black machine gunner next to him, chewing on tobacco, slammed the M2 heavy machine gun mount to the ground, kicking up a small cloud of yellow dust. He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.
"Are these Cuban country bumpkins out of ideas? Do they think they can scare away the U.S. Marines by putting themselves in a tin can welded together from sugarcane leaves and tractor scraps? Please, that's rougher than a Halloween pumpkin to scare kids."
"Hey! You tin can!" The scout, oblivious to the danger, took a few steps forward, pulled a lighter from his pocket, and opened and closed it with a "ding." His tone was full of condescending provocation. "Is anyone in there? If you crawl out now and dance for everyone, I might make my bullets go a little later and not come after you."
A burst of even more unrestrained whistling and strange shouts erupted from the crowd.
To these seasoned soldiers, accustomed to winning battles with ease, these three large, dark, motionless machines looked like a farm tool exhibition painted with cheap paint. What faint red indicator lights? They probably just contained a red flashlight.
"Shut up, everyone!"
A loud roar came from behind. Major Hansen, dressed in a khaki officer's uniform, roughly shoved aside two privates who were still grinning foolishly, his full beard trembling slightly with excitement.
He didn't laugh.
His constantly shifting eyes were fixed on the ground beneath the three "tin cans".
The rocks there had shrunk slightly because of the three massive figures standing there—marks that would require at least several tons of weight to create. But when those three things came out, they didn't make the expected heavy rumble.
mute. Great self-respect.
The moment those two words collided in his mind, a layer of white sweat broke out on the veteran's back.
“Are you an idiot? Does that look like a tractor part to you? Huh?” Hansen grabbed the scout by the collar and yanked him back, spitting in his face. “Everyone! Spread out! Take cover! Put your paws on the trigger!”
"Machine gun team! Stop fucking watching! Set it up! Load up the armor-piercing rounds!"
"This is level one combat alert! Anyone who dares to joke around again, I'll send them back to their hometown to grow corn right now!"
The scout, who had been shoved and stumbled, rubbed his neck, which was red from being choked by his collar, and reluctantly moved to the side of the big machine gunner.
"Hey, has the old man taken the wrong medicine today?"
While pretending to check the bolt, he lowered his voice, gestured towards the machine gunner with his lip, and looked at him with obvious disdain.
"Look at him, acting like a coward. I think he's been paranoid because of those scary traps. They're just a few iron sculptures, but he's acting like he's seen the real Godzilla."
“Who says otherwise?” The big black man curled his lip and slowly pulled back the massive bolt of the M2 heavy machine gun, producing a sickening metallic clang. “He probably wants to go back and write a report saying he won a tough battle, so he can get another star on his shoulder.”
He turned his head and spat the tasteless tobacco residue onto the ground.
"Let's fight then. The sooner we smash it up, the better so we can go back and collect the ice-cold beer that the lieutenant colonel promised. My old buddy can tear this kind of tin to shreds with just two snaps."
"Everyone! Target directly ahead, three... uh... large puppets!" Major Hansen didn't have time to pay attention to the soldiers' little tricks. He hid behind a boulder and raised his pistol.
"Don't hold back your bullets! Open fire at will!"
"Is this the end?"
The Black machine gunner barely even aimed. At a distance of less than fifty meters, that "canned" bullet was as big as a double-door refrigerator in the living room. He could have hit it with his eyes closed.
He casually pressed his huge thumb onto the firing plate.
“BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM—!”
The heavy machine gun, about half an inch thick, spewed out a tongue of orange-red fire more than half a meter long. The unique, muffled sound of the gunfire, like the beating of a bass drum, instantly filled the entire narrow valley.
Immediately afterwards, a dozen Thompson submachine guns and dozens of Garand rifles joined the chorus. For a moment, the not-so-large dead-end alley was filled with that suffocating smell of gunpowder and copper.
A dense hail of bullets rained down on the platform, like a torrential downpour of metal.
The echo from the valley's terrain amplified the noise, making it terrifying. Rock fragments were flung everywhere, and ricochets that struck the rock walls trailed gleaming erratically in the limited space.
The big black man watched as the tracer bullet accurately penetrated the largest "square-headed" metal body in the middle, and he could even see sparks flying everywhere. A look of gleeful satisfaction, typical of those who destroy things, appeared on his face.
He knew what would happen if he were hit by one of those 12.7mm caliber bullets, the kind that could even pierce a Jeep engine. No matter what kind of sheet metal it was made of, it would probably be one of those old ladies' sieves for leaking water by now.
"Awesome! That's fucking awesome!"
He kept the trigger pulled until the entire hundred-round belt was emptied. The immense recoil made the dark flesh on his arm tremble, and the barrel was already slightly red-hot, with wisps of smoke rising gracefully into the hot air.
"Now even scrap metal dealers won't take this pile of junk."
The scout next to him whistled a flippant whistle and changed a magazine.
The gunfire gradually subsided.
Major Hansen also peeked out from behind the rock. The commotion was really too loud; the rising dust, mixed with the powder from the broken stones, looked like a murky white fog that completely enveloped the end of the platform.
Most of the soldiers stood up. The tension from before had been largely dispelled by this satisfying outpouring. Some took out cigarettes from their pockets, while others unscrewed their water bottles.
"Hey, I say," the machine gunner shouted into the white mist, patting the scorching hot barrel, "how about we charge you a little entrance fee? After all, we've shot you with so many holes to let you breathe..."
Halfway through the sentence.
A mountain breeze, carrying a slightly salty and fishy smell, wisely blew in through the crack overhead.
It was like an invisible hand gently parting the not-so-thick veil.
The machine gunner's next sentence was like a hard bone suddenly stuck in his throat, choking him so much that he could only let out a strange "uh".
The sunlight went down again.
Three tall, dark figures.
He maintained the same standing posture. He didn't sway or lean, and his half-raised arm didn't even drop an inch.
He was still standing there.
On the broad chest armor plate of the middle armored vehicle, the marks left by dozens of armor-piercing incendiary rounds that the machine gunner was so proud of were clearly visible. They were small patches of charred marks and some shallow, silver dents that looked like they had been casually scratched with a fingernail.
Beneath those "scars," many deformed copper jackets and steel-core bullets, like chewed gum that had been spat out, were sparsely stuck to the armor surface, or were sliding down the smooth, curved shell with a "clink" onto the gravel at their feet.
A thin layer of shiny copper sheet had been laid on the ground.
but.
There is no hole.
There wasn't even a tiny hole that could let in light.
Even the seemingly most vulnerable, inverted T-shaped electronic eye, which glows red, still shines with that eerie red light that makes one's heart race at a glance, after enduring countless stray bullets.
The entire valley was now truly deathly silent.
The Marlboro soft pack cigarette that the scout had just pulled out of his hand fell to the ground with a "thud".
The black machine gunner blinked twice, and as if he didn't believe it, he stretched out a finger and rubbed his eyes vigorously.
I'm not seeing things.
He stared, mouth agape, at the still-warm gun barrel, then at the "iron wall" whose paint hadn't even chipped off much.
A feeling called "fear," which had never appeared in his not-so-complex mind before, was creeping up his spine, like a cold, venomous snake, from the soles of his feet.
"Then...what is that..."
Major Hansen emerged fully from behind the rock. He still held the Colt 1911 pistol, which had only fired two shots, its muzzle hanging limply to the ground.
He saw it.
He saw the black mech in the middle, the same big guy that his men had just been shooting at with heavy machine guns at its face for half a day.
The head, which had only one black panel, emitted an extremely faint sound of a hydraulic servo motor deflecting.
"Zi..."
It tilted its head slightly.
It's like an adult who has just been hit with a crumpled piece of paper, then looks down with a hint of confusion, and a touch of indifference as if looking at mischievous and annoying ants, at the group of little green-clad figures who are starting to shiver in the sunlight.
The movements were very human-like, but when combined with this steel body, they made it even more terrifying.
It seems to be asking:
Are you guys tickling me?