Li Yexing was still itching to bolt.
But fate had other plans. Norman quickly squeezed in beside him, loading a grenade into his launcher. "This is my last one," he said.
And I care why?
Either missing or ignoring Li Yexing's deadpan expression, Norman continued, "We need to figure out where that sniper is, or they'll pin us down till dawn."
"The trucks are bulletproof. We should ditch the lead one and punch through," Li Yexing suggested.
"No way. We can't abandon the lead truck," Norman shot back instantly.
"Isn't that your so-called 'insurance'? Isn't this exactly when you use it? What's the big deal if we ditch it?"
"The lead truck's electronics are fried—BSAA must've used some kind of device. We can't guarantee the rest of the route isn't rigged with more of that crap," Norman explained.
Just then, a grenade sailed toward them. Li Yexing, moving on instinct, kicked it down the roadside. A loud boom echoed—no idea if it hit anyone. The sheer recklessness of kicking a live grenade sent a cold sweat down his spine. He roared at Norman, "How do you know if we don't try? It's better than getting bled dry here!"
Norman shook his head. "The lead truck stays. That 'insurance' isn't a one-and-done—it's reusable, recyclable…" He paused. "…and way too expensive to ditch."
You bald bastard, I'm gonna kill your mama!
Fuming but helpless, Li Yexing popped out from cover, squeezing off a few bursts toward the gunfire's source. In his head, he was cursing Norman, Argall (the guy who got him this gig), and their entire family trees—especially the women—six ways to Sunday. Another poor sap nearby took a hit, his shoulder blown open like a blooming flower. He collapsed, clutching the wound, screaming, "I'm done! I'm dead! My blood's all over the place!" as his teammates dragged him back.
Norman, like the punk he was, peeked out, fired twice, and ducked back. He turned to Li Yexing, who looked like he'd given up on life.
"Let's talk about that sniper again."
"What? You got a brilliant plan?"
"Soon as they fire another flare, you run out from behind trucks two and three to draw fire. I'll spot the sniper and take him out with a grenade."
Li Yexing's face twisted. "You telling me a stand-up routine?"
"I'm dead serious."
"Running out under a flare? They won't need a sniper to turn me into Swiss cheese."
"You'll be fine."
Li Yexing studied Norman's deadpan face, confirming the guy wasn't joking. His expression darkened. "Baldy, I swear I wanna crack open your mama's cooze and see if she left your brain in there when she birthed you."
Norman raised his rifle, aiming at Li Yexing. "Go. Have a pleasant life."
"Tch." Li Yexing spat out his half-burned cigarette, sneering. "You really think I can't handle you?"
…
Chris, frowning, aimed at the convoy, watching the enemy pop out, fire a few shots, and duck back like a game of whack-a-mole.
"These guys are stubborn as hell," a teammate grumbled over the radio.
"Stay sharp. Keep them pinned. Once air support arrives, they're done," Chris instructed.
Suddenly, a flare shot into the sky. As it burst, flooding the area with light, Chris spotted a guy dressed differently from the convoy's security team. The moment the flare popped, he bolted from behind the second truck, scrambling and rolling past the third, weaving through the gunfire before ducking back into cover.
Chris: ???
…
Li Yexing plopped down beside Norman, clutching his rifle, panting, and wiping sweat from his brow. He turned to Norman. "See him?"
Norman didn't answer, just took off his sunglasses. Li Yexing could see the capital-E embarrassment in those blue eyes.
"Motherfucker!"
"Guess we're out of options."
Norman fired his last grenade, then spoke into the radio: "Supervisor, Freeman, it's out of control. Requesting permission to open Happy Tree One and Happy Tree Five. Release Big Bear and Second Bear."
Li Yexing stared at the bald lunatic, jaw dropped. This guy had been rewriting his entire worldview since the fight started.
After calling Freeman twice with no response, Li Yexing followed Norman's gaze to the second truck's compartment. Freeman was curled up, head in hands, in full turtle mode, practically chanting, "You can't see me, you can't see me."
Norman spat, stormed into the truck, and kicked Freeman to the floor. Grabbing his collar, he roared something. Like he'd been shot with adrenaline, Freeman snapped to life, grabbed a tablet, and started tapping like a man possessed. Then…
Hiss—
With a soft sound, the Iron Maiden-like tanks on trucks one and five cracked open. White gas poured out, and the gunfire on the battlefield stopped dead.
A thick white mist enveloped the tanks. As they slowly opened, a massive silhouette rose within the fog.
"Chris!" the BSAA sniper's voice crackled over the radio. "You see that?"
"Yeah, crystal clear…" Chris lifted his night-vision goggles, staring at the two enormous figures rising from the tanks. Conventional arms for local militias and mercenaries, my ass. You call THIS 'conventional'?
Chris's brow furrowed. "Dammit, check with Kirk—how long till air support? We need heavy firepower!"
From behind the third truck, Li Yexing gaped at the towering figures in the mist, forgetting to breathe. This was Baldy's "insurance"? As a diehard Resident Evil fan, he knew exactly what these were. He'd recognize them even if they were ashes.
Holy shit—TYRANTS!
The two massive figures stepped out. Dark coats were strapped to their bodies with rivets and restraints, their metal-soled boots clanking. Spiked gloves adorned their hands, and their broad shoulders supported pale, bald heads. They didn't need to do anything—just standing there, they radiated overwhelming menace. The aura of power was suffocating.
Tyrants! Li Yexing would know them anywhere. Cloned from Soviet officer Sergei, enhanced with the T-virus, these classic bioweapons appeared in nearly every Resident Evil game. But these weren't quite the T-103 Tyrants he knew. They lacked the wrinkled faces from Resident Evil 2 Remake, and their size—holy hell, they were huge! Nearly three meters tall, rivaling the hulking beasts from Resident Evil: Damnation. They wore high-tech visors over their eyes and strange collars around their necks, with wires snaking into their temples.
"Open your eyes, BSAA scum! This is art!" Freeman, now crazed, waved his tablet, yelling through the bulletproof truck at the invisible BSAA. His manic grin was straight out of a Third Reich propaganda reel.
"Targets locked. Attack! Go, Big Bear, Second Bear!"
He tapped the tablet again. With heavy steps, the two Tyrants charged toward the BSAA positions on the hillside.
Li Yexing was dumbfounded, barely noticing Norman slip back beside him.
"Five minutes. That's all it'll take for those two Bear Daddies to tear the BSAA to shreds," Norman said.
"That's your insurance?" Li Yexing asked, not hiding his shock.
"Yup. What do you think?"
Honestly, Li Yexing thought it was pretty badass. But if these were just the insurance, he was dying to know what the hell was in the third truck.