In that part of the labyrinth where the mutant tribe had settled, a whole lake of black sludge had formed near a damaged sewage pipe. A thick, suffocating smell of chemicals emanated from it, which would instantly make a normal person dizzy.
Several three-headed and six-armed freaks, whose degree of deformation was astonishing, sat in a circle and spoke in hushed tones:
"I haven't eaten fresh flesh for so long... I wonder if the warriors will bring us a live human this time?"
"The ones who wandered in last time were too skinny. There was nothing to eat."
Another mutant joined the conversation:
"And that fragrant liquid they call 'wine' in legends... Heh-heh-heh, how I want to try it! I want to try it!"
These creatures were priests who ruled the tribe. They monopolized the black water and the right to interpret the will of their deity – the sewer pipe. In the tribe's hierarchy, they were considered beings of a higher order.
However, today their "higher" existence was coming to an end.
With a sharp screech, the handcar stopped on the rails at the entrance to one of the side tunnels.
A crowd of mutants turned their heads, but were immediately blinded by the searchlight. Hysterical screams rang out, and the creatures scattered in panic, trying to hide from the light.
The priests, who lived near the drain, were the ugliest due to constant contact with toxins. They resembled huge mountains of flesh.
When the tactical flashlight beam fell on them, they couldn't even run – they just helplessly covered their numerous eyes with their deformed hands and howled in pain.
"Cursed heretics! Stop your evil sorcery, or we will curse you in the name of the God of Black Water!"
While the meat-headed brutes were yelling, Li Qingyu looked skeptically at the flashlight in his hand. This is what they call evil sorcery?
"Oh, you want to curse me too?" he sneered. "Well, I'll show you real evil sorcery!"
He took out three sticks of dynamite, taped them together, lit them, and threw the bundle towards the priests.
"I see you've got inflammation, guys. Catch! Three ampoules of universal medicine!"
The bundle fell right in front of the meat mountains.
There was a roar. Several mutants flew into a bloody mess, others were thrown to the ground by the explosion. They convulsed, choking on blood.
Li Qingyu, shotgun at the ready, jumped off the handcar and rushed into the tunnel leading to the tribe's lair. The other fighters, armed with rifles, followed.
Entering the mutant camp, Li Qingyu almost threw up. Tents sewn from human skin, knives made of bone, dirt and rot everywhere.
Wriggling and squealing, the mutants grabbed makeshift weapons and rushed at the uninvited guests.
Looking at all this, Li Qingyu suddenly understood why some imperial agencies used such radical cleansing measures.
Can those who became like this be called people?
He raised his shotgun and fired. A mutant running at him with a bone knife instantly lost a leg.
From the left, another freak screamed and also fell, taking a blast to the knee.
Another jumped out of a tent and rushed forward with a scream. Li Qingyu turned and shot off his leg.
The fighters following him exchanged glances, not understanding: why was the boss shooting at their legs and not their heads?
The answer was simple. The gamer habit of "immobilize first" was ingrained in his subconscious, and his hand automatically reached lower.
The hollow clicks of the shotgun echoed through the tunnels. The metal storm tore bodies to pieces.
In the narrow space of the sewer, the shotgun was ideal – every shot found its target.
When the drum was empty, Li Qingyu began to reload. At that moment, a scream came from the darkness:
"You are a demon! Why are you killing us?!"
Li Qingyu worked the bolt and replied with fire:
"A-a-a! Run, fools! My brain has been taken over by the AA-12! This gun is forcing me to shoot! Mina-san, save yourself!"
He rushed forward, shooting and yelling, as mutants exploded into bloody fountains. The others finished off the wounded.
Knife cut down a mutant with an automatic burst and, looking at the raging Li Qingyu, thought: "The boss is really not simple."
When he ran out of ammunition, he shouted:
"Reloading!"
Silence immediately took his place, pointing his absurd pipe forward. The metal balls, released by the power of thought, knocked down mutants one after another.
Knife, inserting a new magazine, raised his head and noticed that there was no sound from the pipe. He shouted:
"What kind of weapon is that? Why is it silent?"
Silence remembered Li Qingyu's instruction – "don't show off" – and slapped his forehead.
"Damn, I forgot the voice acting! Pew! Pew-pew! Pew-pew-pew!"
He continued to shoot, accompanying the shots with mouth sounds. Knife didn't understand anything anymore, but arguing with the result was pointless: the mutants were still falling dead.
The fight lasted another ten minutes. In the end, Li Qingyu blew off the head of a mutant fused to the wall, and the cleanup was complete.
He slung the smoking shotgun over his shoulder, lit a cigarette, and exhaled smoke.
"I didn't want to sin, but the AA-12 has taken too deep a hold of me. I am sinful, I repent!"
Younger Joel ran up to him with burning eyes:
"Commander! I want to learn to wield the AA-12 too!"
Li Qingyu sized him up and shook his head.
"It won't work. Having lost your wheelchair, you have lost your natural gift for wielding this weapon."
He raised a finger:
"When they shoot your spine again and return your sacred artifact-stroller – then you will have the right to the AA-12."