Chapter 206: Chapter 152, Tribe (7K words, please subscribe!)_3
They were worried that those Green Skins, if they made use of explosives in a targeted manner, would be able to blow up their location, and they might face attacks from all sides—especially if the enemy used ladders to climb up.
Matins and his group were still searching for a more suitable location to hold their ground.
Despite no one knowing whether the last abandoned high-rise, which seemed defensible, was the best spot they could find next, or if the next would be even worse, they had to keep searching in order to maximize their defensive advantage.
This time, The Emperor seemed to have heard their loyal prayers, and their luck suddenly changed for the better.
A soldier discovered an underground space amidst the ruins of a building.
As for defending, this kind of basement was well-suited. Although there was still the danger of collapse, if it was deep and sturdy enough, the risk of being buried would be smaller than having a high-rise blown up.
And as for other aspects, it was nearly all advantages.
There was only one entrance, which made it easy to defend; the inner space was more restricted, reducing the number of enemies they would face, preventing the enemy from leveraging their numerical superiority; in such limited space, not even a killing jar would fit, which was even better.
If worst came to worst, they could seal the entrance. Though they wouldn’t be able to get out themselves, at least there would be no worries about being overtaken for a significant time. After staying a day, when Mr. Gu’s army arrived, the outside might be much safer, and they could dig themselves out in power armor with their bare hands—maybe even make their way out in a few days.
In any case, it was better than waiting to die.
The only concern was whether the vertical depth of the underground space was sufficient.
If it was just a small basement, once they entered and enemies rushed in, getting trapped with no room to maneuver would also be very dangerous.
However, just by briefly passing by the underground entrance, Matins dismissed this concern: This wasn’t any kind of basement; it was an underground research facility!
You could tell just by the thick, solid circular iron door at the entrance.
In the past, this iron door must have been power-driven, as it would have been impossible to close or open by human strength alone. Now, though, it was merely ajar, its power mechanism long ineffective.
Without any room for hesitation, Matins chose to enter.
Five interstellar warriors and 21 surviving soldiers from the Storm Squad stepped into the underground space.
At Matins’s signal, a squad of elite soldiers ventured deeper to explore. They needed to understand the layout, to know where to fall back if the fighting turned unfavorable; moreover, they also needed to ascertain if there were other entrances or exits, for a possible escape or to guard, preventing the Green Skins from discovering them and attacking from behind.
The rest remained about twenty meters inside the entrance, hurriedly gathering any materials they could find—broken bricks, building materials… in short, quickly constructing a defensive position.
They were to hold the entrance, delay the enemy as long as possible, and inflict casualties.
But they didn’t have much time at all. Only two minutes later, enemies appeared at the entrance.
It was just a few Green Skins, apparently dismounted from an armored truck that couldn’t pass through.
No sooner had they shown their heads than they were mercilessly killed.
Within the thirty-meter range of the entrance, the interstellar warriors and elite soldiers of the Storm Squad were accurate with their shots. What was critical was that their weapons were far from weak compared to the G9 series rifles. Bomb guns could kill Green Skin brats with one shot, and electromagnetic rifles only took a few more.
In other words, if those Green Skins only tried to storm in using infantry, they were likely to die without capturing the place.
The interstellar warriors each had nearly three hundred rounds; the Storm Squad soldiers had at least one hundred eighty rounds each.
Used sparingly and accurately, they might be able to hold on.
The Green Skin Orcs understood this point as well—Even if they didn’t, after the killing jars couldn’t make it through, and they had gathered metal barrel cannons to bombard the entrance, with twenty lads rushing in and none coming out alive, it became clear.
They stopped sending more men to die, which gave Matins and the others a chance to catch their breath.
But he also knew this was the calm before the storm.
It was deep into the night, yet they dared not rest.
They attempted to contact Mr. Gu, but the wireless communication had been cut off.
It was likely that the Green Skins had the technology to block communication signals.
In any case, they didn’t have many options now; they had to hold on with the natural advantage of the location.
…
The Orc Elder Gorgon glared angrily at the flesh-tearing figure before him, much stronger and larger than himself, wishing he could kill him.
But that was not an option.
He was no longer a match for the flesh-tearer.
He couldn’t even stand by and watch the flesh-tearer go to his death.
He knew those hiding were ‘cans’. In his distant memory, he had seen these cans before, and they killed Orc youngsters as easily as Orcs slaughtered little devils.
The flesh-tearer was already the strongest warrior in the tribe, but according to his old memories, he judged that if the flesh-tearer charged in recklessly, he might kill one or two cans, but he would ultimately die there.
The flesh-tearer couldn’t die. If he did, the more than a thousand youngsters that had just been regrouped would immediately plunge back into collapse. Below him were five or six Orc chiefs of equal rank, all following the flesh-tearer because he was stronger and greener. If the flesh-tearer died, a bloody struggle would undoubtedly ensue among them, and they would fight with their followers, not caring about anything else until only one remained.