The Savior of American Comics? I'm the Subspace Evil God!

Chapters 494, 904, and 905: The Mutant [Tyrant] and the [New Variant] (Part 1)
[Securities Security Council Emergency Operations Meeting Room]

As the last wisp of fiery tornado disappeared from the screen, the [Roton] vanished as a black dot on the horizon. A brief silence fell over the conference room, followed by deafening cheers and applause.

Representatives from various countries, their faces flushed with excitement, stood up and showered General Steker Pantecost, who stood beside the conference table, equally visibly awestruck.

"Oh, God!!!"

"This is amazing, unbelievable..."

"Thank God, we finally managed to wipe out those disgusting infected."

“Fantastic! General Strick, the PPDC’s feat today has saved the situation from the brink of collapse!” A European representative excitedly grasped Strick Pantecost’s hand, shaking it back and forth as he exclaimed.
"The performance of the [Roton] far exceeded expectations. It seems that your [Titan Hunter Mech Project] has achieved considerable success... This is definitely another major breakthrough for humanity in the field of mechs!!"

"That's right!"

Another representative slammed his fist on the table, “The Rodan is simply the natural nemesis of those tentacles! Those disgusting things are utterly helpless in the face of Absolute Flame… This is another milestone in humanity’s fight against abnormal bio-virus infections!”

"General Pentecost, congratulations! The Titan Hunter Mech Project of the PPDC Organization has demonstrated unparalleled strategic value. This is not only a victory of technology, but also a perfect symbol of human courage and resistance!"

Praise poured in from all directions.

Steker Pantecost's brow, which had been furrowed for so long, finally relaxed completely at this moment, and a strong sense of pride and relief welled up in his heart.

He smiled modestly and nodded repeatedly to the people around him.

As my gaze inadvertently swept across the corner, I saw Ross [Secretary of State] holding a coffee cup, a slight approving smile on his face.

The unpleasant feelings that Steker Pantecost had in his heart because of being "forced into this task" dissipated considerably with the overwhelming praise around him.

Perhaps Ross's "recommendation" just now, by sheer coincidence, has allowed the [PPDC Organization] and the [Titan Hunter Mech] to prove their worth on the world's highest stage?
No matter how you look at it, this is a great thing!
Thinking of this, Steker Pantecost nodded slightly in Ross's direction, casting a friendly, even grateful, glance at him.

However, Alexander Pierce, who sat at the head of the conference table, was not blinded by the joy of this victory.

His icy gaze was fixed on the entrance to the underground base, standing alone amidst the scorched earth, on the big screen.

He waited until the cheers around him subsided before speaking.

"All right!"

Alexander Pierce’s voice, though not loud, was enough to silence everyone: “Now that the external threats have been eliminated, let’s quickly move on to the next step and completely eradicate that ‘malignant tumor’ buried deep underground.”

His gaze then shifted to Genes, the head of the BSAA organization, and he said in a completely cold voice:

“This time, I don’t want to see any more accidents or failures! If Albert Wesker slips through our fingers again this time… then there’s no point in the BSAA continuing to exist.”

"Do you get me?!"

Hearing his boss's blunt 'threat,' Genes felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, and his forehead was instantly covered with a fine layer of cold sweat.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were swallowing a piece of burning charcoal instead of saliva.

However, he was an experienced man after all and knew how to get back. He immediately straightened his back, patted his chest with his greasy hands, and pretended to be hot-blooded. Even his voice contained a bit of desperate courage.

"Yes, Mr. Chairman, please rest assured, you and the Security Council... I will personally direct this operation... no, this operation will be a do-or-die situation."

"If we fail again, you don't even need to tell me, I, Genes, will be the first to resign, get out of the BSAA, and get out of the Security Council family!!"

……

With the order issued again, the BSAA organization demonstrated unprecedented efficiency.

Soon, a "temporary cleanup force" of about two thousand people was formed, with the remaining elite special agents of the BSAA organization at its core and mixed with special forces elites drawn from other countries.

The reason why the number of people was a thousand fewer than the first time was not because the team was more elite.

Quite the opposite.

The soldiers who came this time were not the elite troops sent the first time.

However, nowadays the BSAA organization has no choice at all.

Apart from the BSAA's own agents, elite special forces from other countries, upon hearing of the horrific deaths of their former comrades, were unwilling to get involved in this mess.

Therefore, not only did the number of participants plummet, but the overall strength was also greatly reduced.

Meanwhile, a group of members of the 'cleanup force' arrived once again in an air transport formation consisting of military strategic transport aircraft such as the C-130 and A400M, as well as CH-47 transport helicopters.

This time, the landing went exceptionally smoothly.

The anticipated ambush did not occur.

On the charred ground, still hot and smelling of fish, there was only deathly silence and scorching air.

The demolition team quickly installed directional high explosives on the heavy alloy door at the entrance to the underground base.

Boom——! ! !
With a muffled thud, a huge gash was blasted open in the metal gate.

A deep, cold passage, like the path of a giant beast, was exposed before the soldiers.

"Go, Go, Go!!!"

Beams of searchlight pierced the darkness as soldiers filed in, providing cover for each other.

Inside the command center, Genes watched as the troops entered smoothly on the monitor screen without triggering any alarms or encountering any resistance. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if the huge weight on his chest had been lifted a little.

However, this brief period of peace did not last long. When the cleanup troops penetrated deep into the outer perimeter of the core area of ​​the underground base, they finally encountered the enemy.

Deep within the underground base.

In a laboratory the size of four or five football fields, the intricate network of pipes, the flickering red emergency lights, the numerous, mostly broken, and disgustingly slimy culture tanks, and the thick, pungent smell of blood in the air quickly conjured up a hellish scene in the minds of the soldiers.

"Oh damn it, everyone beware, a large number of humanoid BOWs have appeared ahead..."

Uncontrollable screams suddenly erupted in the communication channel; the squad at the forefront had been attacked by the enemy.

At the corner of the passage ahead, a large number of shadows were swaying.

The first to emerge was the ultimate nightmare of all ground squads recorded in the BSAA's database—the Tyrant!
However, unlike the records, the "tyrants" that appeared before them were clearly much larger. Their exposed upper bodies had skin that was an ominous dark purple, and their muscles bulged exaggeratedly like steel nooses. Their movement speed was also astonishing.

But what truly terrified the cleanup team was that their arms, which were thicker than a human waist, had transformed into two enormous bone blades that gleamed with a chilling light.

Like steamrollers, they silently charged out of the darkness at the first moment, as if to crush any obstacle that dared to stand in their way.

Is this some kind of tyrant?
It's clearly the Terminator T-1000, isn't it?

"Fire! Fire now!!"

The captain of the BSAA team in the front row roared at the top of his lungs.

Rat-a-tat-tat—!!
Boom boom boom——! ! !
A barrage of bullets and grenade explosions instantly covered the passage ahead.

However, the dense bullets struck the Tyrant's skin, which was clearly mutated by some kind of biochemical virus, making muffled "thud" sounds.

The kinetic energy generated by the explosion of bullets and grenades was significantly weakened by a certain keratinous hard shell and tough muscle layer that grew on the surface of the opponent's skin.

Can you believe how unusual this is?

Only rockets and heavy machine guns equipped with armor-piercing rounds can barely inflict any effective damage on it.

The problem is that there are far too many Tyrants in the passage and warehouse, more than a dozen of them. They are like tough and durable Rhino Tanks, braving the hail of bullets and launching one savage charge after another.

The bone blades on his arms swung back and forth, and in the blink of an eye, they cut several soldiers in the front row who couldn't dodge in time at the waist.

Blood and entrails splattered all over the cold walls and floor.

"Ugh..."

"Help! I don't want to die..."

"Captain, save me, I can still manage..."

"Everyone retreat immediately and establish a defensive line..." The commander issued the order without hesitation, but his voice carried a hint of despair as he roared:

"Use flamethrowers and white phosphorus grenades to burn these bastards to death!!"

To everyone's slight relief, and even some relief, the high-temperature jet did indeed produce excellent results.

According to the BSAA organization's files, the Tyrant, who should not have been afraid of flames, let out painful roars after his exposed upper body was licked by flames.

The two enormous bone blades that had transformed from the arms also reverted to their original form.

Even the attack movements became somewhat sluggish.

However, the situation was fine inside the spacious warehouse, but the squad of 'flamethrowers' blocking the narrow passage ahead became the first live targets to suffer.

One of the Tyrants, braving the flames, actually rammed a Flamethrower soldier, sending him and his equipment flying and crashing into the wall behind him, turning him into a bloody mess.

Boom——! ! !
call--

The high-fuel cylinders on the back of the flamethrower exploded violently upon impact, instantly turning into a rain of fire that ignited the entire area.

Several unlucky guys behind couldn't dodge in time and instantly turned into 'human torches', collapsing to the ground amidst screams and groans, and then turning into charred corpses.

But the others had no time to mourn their teammates or feel fear, because something even more terrifying was yet to come.

As the 'tyrant group' successfully broke through a gap, some 'people' quickly emerged from the shadows in the dark passage behind them.

They were dressed in all sorts of clothes, some in T-shirts, some in work clothes, and there were even beggars and cooks... Their bodies looked no different from ordinary people, and you could even see the unique 'reason' and cruelty in their eyes.

But when the soldiers behind them tried to aim their weapons at them, something unexpected happened!

Swah——

A soldier was aiming at a young man wearing a T-shirt when suddenly a strange, cruel smile appeared on his face.

Immediately afterwards, the right arm of the man in the T-shirt seemed to melt away instantly, transforming into several dark red tentacles with sharp bone spurs. Like venomous snakes emerging from their holes, they instantly traversed a distance of more than ten meters and precisely pierced through the soldier's chest.

The speed was far beyond what most people could react!
……

Meanwhile, a middle-aged man in a white chef's uniform remained completely calm in the face of the oncoming gunfire. His body twisted back and forth with incredible flexibility, successfully dodging all the bullets aimed at him.

Even Neo from The Matrix would have to applaud and say "666" if he were there!
At the same time, the middle-aged man's right leg instantly mutated from the knee, extending like a rope into a tentacle-like blade whip covered with suction cups and barbs, several meters long.

whoosh-

The tentacle-like whip swept across with incredible speed, severing the legs of three soldiers at the knees in the distance, their screams echoing through the passage.

……

On one side of the warehouse, a special forces soldier from a European country, somewhat skeptical, used a shotgun to blast a 'new variant' walking towards him in the chest at close range. Blood mist splattered, creating a hole the size of a bowl.

However, before he could cheer, he saw tentacle-like granulation tissue writhing wildly at the wound, and sap-covered tissue gushing out like a living thing.

In just over ten seconds, this potentially fatal wound healed almost completely at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The 'new variant' that was hit head-on merely swayed its massive body, a flash of green in its eyes, before it grinned maliciously and pounced, snapping the special forces soldier's head as it whispered in his ear:
"You should have been shot in the head!!"

……

If the abilities of these newly emerged 'variants' are chilling, then what truly makes these soldiers despair is that these 'variants' do not, like the completely mindless infected they have encountered before, or the somewhat intelligent but not very powerful 'Tyrants,' prefer to 'cluster together' or fight individually.

These guys are no different from normal humans. They know how to use cover to avoid high-temperature attacks, and they also know how to use their instantly mutated limbs to provide crossfire cover for each other...

Even while fighting, they still have the energy to set up seemingly simple but often surprisingly effective traps for the cleanup team?!
For example, one "new variant" deliberately exposes itself to attract fire and uses the Tyrant to withstand headshots from high-powered weapons such as armor-piercing rounds, while another "new variant" takes the opportunity to sneak around from behind through the ventilation duct. Then the two of them attack from both sides, instantly wiping out the entire heavy firepower squad, including the machine gunner.

A thug isn't scary; what's scary is a thug with education!

Limbs becoming tentacles, wounds healing at supersonic speed, tactical coordination...

The emergence of these humanoid BOWs, known as 'new variants,' became the final straw, directly shattering the morale of the cleanup forces.

(End of this chapter)