Chapter 322: High-Explosive Impact!
The Bait and The Agent
Joshua's action was purely out of goodwill; the location was genuinely cold and drafty, not a place to sleep. Unfortunately, the girl didn't appreciate it, continually brandishing her dagger, her face clouded with vigilance.
Seeing this, Joshua simply stepped back, remaining silent.
After a while, seeing that he remained compliant, the girl slightly lowered her guard. She stood a short distance away and asked,
"Who are you? I've never seen you around here."
Joshua whispered, "I came from the south district. I didn't know anyone was here. If you feel uneasy, I'll leave right now."
Saying this, he started to walk away.
"Wait."
Debbie called him back, asking in a slightly suspicious tone, "The south district... are you Mexican?"
Joshua nodded.
Debbie relaxed a bit. "You can stay, but remember, don't try anything with me, or I'll stab you."
Joshua asked curiously,
"Are you Mexican too?"
Debbie delivered her prepared answer with a poker face. "Svalar, a desolate hole. I doubt you've heard of it."
"I know it! I came from there."
Joshua was extremely excited. He never expected to meet someone from his hometown on what he believed was his last night. "I grew up at the parish orphanage in Svalar. Old Woman Arleen there was very kind to me. What about you? Where were you?"
"I don't believe a word you're saying."
Debbie didn't trust him at all. After a moment of hesitation, she picked up half a sandwich and placed it about two meters away from him.
"This is for you. Eat it and get out."
"No need, I've already eaten."
Joshua shook his head, refusing. In the dim light, he failed to notice the girl's legs trembling from fear and excitement.
"Just take it and eat. Why so much trouble?"
Debbie picked up the sandwich and tossed it in front of him. The distance between them had narrowed to less than a meter.
At this moment, everyone—including the snipers hidden in prominent positions, the FBI team huddled in the motel, and Lex Luthor observing via monitoring equipment—held their breath.
An Unstable Target
Fortunately, the dreaded outcome didn't happen. Joshua didn't pounce on Debbie like a starving beast to consume her. Instead, he shrank his body, continually shaking his head.
Gradually, everyone felt that something was wrong.
An FBI agent questioned,
"Director, is that really the Parasite? Could we have the wrong man?"
The three massacres indicated the Parasite was a terrifying, cold-blooded beast with no shred of mercy. The man before them, however, looked like a meek, kind little rabbit.
The difference in demeanor was too vast not to raise suspicion.
Scott Ruby said soberly, "Everyone has two faces. Don't be fooled by the illusion in front of you."
Debbie also felt uneasy. The man's behavior didn't align with a blood-soaked serial killer. However, as an elite agent, she had encountered similar situations before.
Regardless of his behavior, the mission had to proceed.
Debbie composed herself and asked in a slightly suspicious tone,
"Why are you keeping your head down and not looking at me?"
Joshua couldn't hide his panic. "I'm fine, it's just... just... anyway, stay away from me."
"Strange guy!"
Debbie intentionally grumbled. Her body slowly tensed up, and her eyes became razor-sharp. Using the moment she bent down to pick up a sandwich, she subtly pulled out the vial of agent, and then...
Snap!
The plastic vial shattered. The compressed purple gas surged out, covering every area within a three-meter radius.
The purple gas seemed to have a mind of its own. It bypassed the nearby Debbie and desperately burrowed into Joshua's body. Wherever it reached, the cells enhanced by the alien bug's genes immediately entered a dormant state.
His strength was fading. His limbs became incredibly heavy.
Joshua, enveloped by the gas, rigidly turned his head. Seeing Debbie running away, a complex expression flashed in his eyes. In the end, he chose not to pursue and simply crouched quietly where he was.
Annihilation
Following Scott's command.
The snipers crouching in the shadows immediately opened fire. The rapid gunfire pierced the deep night, fire streaking back and forth, forming a dense web of crossfire.
Countless bullets flew toward him, ripping through the old coat and striking various parts of his body, only to ricochet off in strange directions.
After continuously consuming the life force of both Clark and Linda, Joshua had evolved to a level beyond human comprehension. His strength, speed, and defense were not far behind Superman's.
These bullets inflicted no damage on him; they couldn't even penetrate his outermost layer of skin.
The rain of bullets crisscrossed and deflected everywhere.
A ricocheting stray bullet hit Debbie's thigh. She grunted, enduring the severe pain to crawl quickly under a vehicle.
Joshua watched her silently. The complex expression was gone, replaced by an unspeakable bitterness. Ultimately, he said nothing, just sitting there, motionless.
Soon, Scott and the others realized the situation was wrong.
"Damn it! The intelligence from Lex Luthor was wrong! The armor-piercing rounds aren't working! Initiate the fallback plan!"
Upon receiving the command, the snipers immediately switched weapons. They put away their sniper rifles and set up small Vulcan cannons loaded with High-Explosive Impact rounds.
Boom! Boom!
The deep sounds of artillery erupted in the air. Three high-explosive rounds—powerful enough to destroy an armored tank—tore through the air and struck Joshua.
The air began to boil!
A visible shockwave rippled outward, followed by massive, burning plumes of high-temperature flame.
CRASH!
The floor was destroyed, and the fiery impact swept through like a hurricane.
The snipers instinctively covered their heads, then took aim and continued firing.
Explosions rocked the area, wave after wave. Moments later, the building began to tilt and collapse, eventually turning into a total ruin.
The bombardment continued until the ammunition was depleted, then finally stopped.
Dust billowed high, covering the sky and taking a long time to settle.
Scott Ruby and the others emerged from the motel, gazing at the ruined building that had become a large crater. He muttered,
"That should have taken care of it, right?"
Such a dense barrage of high-explosive rounds caused unimaginable localized destruction. It was enough to warp even alloy steel, let alone a man.
Not just Scott, but everyone believed it. After all, those were high-performance rounds specifically developed by the military for superhumans. Each shell had more than three times the power of a standard high-explosive round.
If an attack of that magnitude couldn't kill their target, they couldn't imagine what weapon would.
They couldn't possibly resort to using a nuclear bomb!
The atmosphere was quiet. Everyone stared at the ruins—some hesitant, some puzzled, most just waiting in silence.
Scott raised his hand, signaling. Four elite soldiers wearing Tesla Power Armor and carrying heavy-duty rifles cautiously stepped forward toward the wreckage.
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