Legend of the Cyber Heroes
Chapter 660 - 304: Battle Between Heaven and Man

Chapter 660: Chapter 304: Battle Between Heaven and Man

The civilians of Recycling Station Town had spent three years amassing a small troop, equipping each member of the Guard Squad with firearms.

Now, they were witnessing the might of these weapons.

For the prepared Green Forest Men, these devices were no more painful than "a heavy rain."

A dozen hulking men with industrial prosthetic bodies arranged themselves into a basic formation and charged toward the town.

Tajibur was the most arrogant among the Green Forest Men. He stood at the center of the troop, deliberately making his lackeys clear a path for him. With arms outstretched, he laughed wildly and jogged forward.

Several fiery tongues aimed intentionally at this Green Forest Man. A few in the Guard Squad had some tactical sense to know to attack the group’s leader.

But this awareness could not compensate for the gap in combat capability brought about by their level of Martial Studies.

Tajibur merely moved his upper body to dodge most of the bullets. Even when a bullet occasionally hit him, it only entered at a great angle, failing to inflict any significant damage on his armor.

Perhaps those who do not understand Martial Arts might think that if one could estimate the enemy’s maximum evasion distance based on their speed and then draw an area at that "distance" from their current position to attack randomly within it, they could counteract a Martial Artist’s anticipation.

But at best, that’s just a misunderstanding by non-martial artists.

The shortest time for bullets to be reloaded, as well as the direction and magnitude of the recoil after firing a firearm, are, in fact, fixed. A Cyber Martial Artist’s weight and arm strength are enough to overcome the recoil of medium firearms.

Moreover, the Neural Reflexes of Cyber Martial Artists are fast enough to keep up with regular bullets.

Often, what laypeople call "random shooting," is actually predictable to Firearm Warriors. If the secret manual practiced by a Firearm Warrior has code for related plugins, his system could even automatically mark those who try to "shoot blindly" and use computational resources for prediction.

Sparks flew off Tajibur’s body.

However, by that time, he had already used the Martial Studies assistance plugin to tag all the "decent" individuals.

If Tajibur’s Martial Arts had advanced further, more information from more plugins could even be left to his subconscious for "human brain judgment." When this "plugin internalization" and "algorithm internalization" reach a certain level, a Martial Artist can process more information in an instant, and "numbers" no longer become an insurmountable hurdle. Only then can a Martial Artist who has cultivated to such an extent truly be "unmatched on the battlefield."

And such Martial Artists would then have met the passing mark for external strength, "surpassing a major threshold."

Tajibur did not dare to hope for that realm yet, but he was more than capable of beating up these villagers.

Like a black whirlwind, that Green Forest Man charged forward. His arms crossed in front of him to protect his vulnerable head parts, he simply plowed through the human barriers built by the townspeople.

Then, lightning-fast, he stretched out his hands and twisted off the left and right hands of two Gunners.

Immediately after, he extended his left foot in a lightning-like kick, sending a member of the Guard Squad flying and splitting them in two.

The Gunner to Tajibur’s right could no longer care for his own team member and grabbed the Shotgun prepared on the ground, firing at Tajibur.

"Quickly clearing all enemies on both sides within the trenches" was a classic use of the Shotgun.

Unfortunately, it was limited to wars among Homo sapiens.

Tajibur shielded his Prosthetic Eye with his arm, lightning-fast, and even a direct hit from the Shotgun simply made his body sink, adopting the "Unloading Force" posture. Meanwhile, some of the pellets seemed to scrape off the protective coating on his body surface.

But that was all.

Tajibur felt a bit gloomy, "The resources you people find in this town are hundreds of years outdated, aren’t they? Do you know any real Martial Artists?"

As he spoke, he casually grabbed the shoulder of the guy who had raised the shotgun and, with a slight exertion of force, tore half of his body away.

White noise suddenly emanated from the Gunner’s synthesizer—an issue commonly seen when low-grade vocal packs failed to process intense emotional expressions correctly.

Tajibur leaped into the air again and then stomped down, crushing a Gunner’s legs flat.

At this moment, those rushing behemoths reached the battle line. These Green Forest Lackeys grinned wickedly, raising their chainsaw greatswords and cutting through the town’s defenses like slicing through rotten wood.

Tajibur shouted loudly, "Lads, spare lives, but otherwise, feel free. If someone gets killed by accident, just give a yell, and we’ll bolt immediately."

"Oooooooh!" The uniform cheers answered him.

The Town Mayor was truly anxious. He held the largest gun in the village, retreating while shouting, "Do you really have no scruples? Silver Transmission Shaft Lev died in our town! He died in our town! We..."

Tajibur burst into laughter, casually picked up a gun, and blew the man’s left leg off.

....................................

Screams and footsteps drowned out Zoloa. People from the settlement were running from one end of the town to the other for their lives, some even heading towards the garbage mountain.

Zoloa thought of his brother, whose body was mostly flesh, and his mind kept pondering "areas in the garbage mountain that retain heat," which actually caused him to falter in his actions.

—Ah... Damn it... Didn’t escape...

In the area where Zoloa was, several Green Forest Lackeys had already started to roam. Relying on the strength of their Prosthetic Bodies, they kicked doors open, then randomly sawed a few times at the people inside before looting for usable resources.

All these guys had guns, and their marksmanship was possibly no worse than those Gunners in the town... No, perhaps their marksmanship far exceeded...

—How can I escape now...

—Perhaps...

A terrifying thought emerged. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become one of the Green Forest Men. Green Forest Men are Martial Artists, too. Although the townspeople always said the Green Forest Men can no longer be considered human, that the personalities of the Green Forest Men are completely overturned, they are not the same person as before, it’s as if they’re dead... Just... Just...

Although terrifying, the Green Forest Men are still Martial Artists...

Green Forest Men are Martial Artists...

It’s as if they’re dead...

Two thoughts intermingled in Zoloa’s mind, leaving him in a dilemma.

But the peace was shattered by a voice Zoloa despised.

"I want to join the Green Forest! I want to join the Green Forest!"

Thus cried Zoloa’s father. A wound inflicted by a chainsaw greatsword oozed blue blood down his body. But the man was beyond caring at this moment.

It seemed he still had ethanol affecting his brain; as soon as he uttered the phrase "joining the Green Forest," he lost much of his restraint and began bellowing loudly, "I want to join the Green Forest! Count me in!"