chsdbacks Chapter 160 was all predicted!
Chapter 160 was all predicted!
Chapter 160 was all predicted!
"High point observation post at intersection No. 5! Report immediately!"
Have you found any trace of Saint Rozwald or any suspicious persons?!
The CPO squad leader called the pre-designated high-ground observation post again.
Elite snipers and observers were stationed there, equipped with high-powered telescopes and communication equipment, theoretically giving them a commanding view of a large area.
However, the communicator was completely silent, with only a faint electrical hum.
"Damn it! Patrol team at intersection 5! Get to the high ground immediately and check the situation! Hurry!"
The squad leader's ominous premonition grew stronger, and he immediately mobilized nearby mobile forces.
At intersection No. 5, in a narrow, dark alley, a team of more than twenty elite naval personnel were on standby.
Upon receiving the order, the captain immediately waved his hand: "Quickly! To the high ground! Second squad stay at the alley entrance and stand guard!"
The soldiers quickly turned around, preparing to rush out of the alley.
However, just as they were about to rush out of the shadows at the alley entrance, a tall, muscular figure with gold rings on his hands that gleamed eerily in the dim light appeared out of nowhere and blocked the only exit of the alley.
Phinks cracked his neck, a ferocious yet amused smile spreading across his face. Looking at the astonished sailors who had stopped in their tracks, he tilted his head and asked arrogantly, in an almost mocking tone, "Hey, you guys—where are you rushing off to?"
He stood there, unarmed, yet he seemed like an insurmountable wall of sighs, emanating a dangerous aura that sent chills down the spines of even seasoned naval elites.
Meanwhile, on the west side of intersection 5, there is the clock tower, which originally belonged to the Navy and overlooks half of the lawless zone and part of the main road.
Feitan stood silently on the broken window sill at the edge of the clock tower, with several corpses dressed in naval uniforms and CP agent uniforms at his feet, lying dead in various contorted positions, their wounds all fatal, precise and ruthless.
The high-powered telescope was carelessly kicked aside, and the communication bug was crushed to pieces.
The wind high above him blew his high collar, which covered half of his face, and his narrow pupils looked down at the chaotic streets below, which resembled ants, and the scarlet main road.
A cold, cruel, and emotionless smile slowly spread across his lips, as if he were watching a chaotic drama that he himself had set the stage for.
The high ground? It has already changed hands...
"Seventh South Square Blockade Force!"
Report on your situation! Is there anything unusual?!
The CPO team leader was getting agitated. The abnormal communications from two directions made him suspect a strong conspiracy.
South Plaza No. 7 was originally the third outer perimeter blockade line, where nearly a hundred naval soldiers and a small squad of low-level CP agents were stationed to cut off possible escape routes from the south.
However, at this moment, the commander here was sweating profusely.
"Communications are under severe interference! Contact with headquarters and other units is intermittent!"
"Report! The eastern patrol team has lost contact!"
"The west watchtower was hit by unidentified gunfire! The sniper is dead!"
"Where are the enemies?! Why can't I see anyone?!"
The most bizarre thing was that soldiers were constantly being shot down by incredibly accurate bullets that came from nowhere while they were moving or on guard duty, and they died instantly.
The bullets seemed to come from multiple directions, hidden behind the ruins of buildings surrounding the square, the bubble forest, and even the giant bubbles that floated by, making it impossible to pinpoint the shooter's location.
Something even more terrible happened.
Several soldiers who had been in the ranks suddenly turned vacant, their bodies stiffening as they turned to their comrades. Then, to their astonishment, they lunged into the crowd, followed by—"Boom!"
The miniature bombs strapped to their bodies or implanted inside their bodies were remotely detonated!
Although the amount of firepower was small, the chaos and psychological impact it caused in dense formations was devastating.
This is the "Puppet Phone" ability of the knight, which uses an antenna to control soldiers with "needles" inserted into them, turning them into human bombs.
"Don't panic! Maintain formation! The enemy has manipulator capabilities!"
The commander shouted at the top of his lungs, but panic spread like a plague.
Paknotta remained hidden in the shadows, each burst of her specially made pistol taking away an officer or CP agent who was trying to stabilize the situation.
Her bullets are known for their danger.
The troops in the South Square were too busy to help themselves and were completely paralyzed. Forget about reinforcements, they couldn't even protect themselves.
The real "eye of the storm" and the toughest blockade occurred on the north side of Auction House 1, at the choke point of the main road leading to the port.
This is the fastest and most direct route for naval reinforcements to arrive from the port base, and it is also the pre-designated interception point with the strongest forces.
However, at this moment, this wide road has been transformed into a battlefield.
"Da da da da da da—!!!!"
Franklin's imposing figure stood in the middle of the road, his arms outstretched, his fingers spread wide, and terrifying Nen energy, like a tangible torrent, surged wildly from his fingertips!
Those were not ordinary bullets, but highly concentrated psychic bullets with astonishing destructive power!
They formed two intersecting, relentless, destructive tongues of fire, like two super machine guns with unlimited ammunition, wildly scorching any target that tried to rush forward—naval soldiers, armored vehicles, roadblocks, and even buildings on both sides—with astonishing rate of fire and coverage area!
Wherever the flames passed, people and horses fell, vehicles exploded, and bricks and stones flew everywhere!
The naval formations attempting to organize a charge were so overwhelmed by such ferocious and unreasonable firepower that they could barely lift their heads, let alone advance a single step.
Franklin, expressionless, like a tireless killing machine, used the purest firepower to create a death zone.
At the edge of the storm of mental bullets, another figure moved like a butterfly flitting among flowers, or a dance of death.
Pedrolev, his bandaged, mummy-like figure, moved with incredible flexibility and speed among the naval soldiers who were trying to flank him or narrowly evade the barrage of bullets.
His movements looked like he was performing an ancient and eerie war dance, with each spin, each step, each arm swing accompanied by blazing flames or small-scale explosions!
"Battle Song: Flames of War!"
"Battle Song: Explosive Step!"
Flames erupted from his dancing path, igniting soldiers' clothing and barricades; explosions burst at his feet or fingertips, blasting away any approaching enemies.
He seemed to treat the battlefield as a stage and turn killing into art.
His presence further eroded the morale and organization of the naval reinforcements.
From the port direction, the naval reinforcements that were arriving in droves were pinned down on the north side of the auction house by this duo of "one still, one moving" and "one strong, one skillful," unable to advance an inch.
Deafening gunfire, explosions, and screams, mixed with billowing smoke and flames, transformed this area into a gateway to hell, isolating it from the outside world.