socalfunplaces Chapter 31 The Wall of Gluttony
Chapter 31 The Wall of Gluttony
"Fire!"
Lowe's orders were concise and ruthless.
"Rat-a-tat-tat!"
Six heavily modified, blasphemous logging guns roared simultaneously.
The sound was no longer the crisp metallic clang, but a roar similar to the explosion of a high-pressure boiler.
The gun no longer spewed out bright yellow flames, but streams of dark purple plasma.
When a bullet passes through a gun barrel filled with subspace vapor, an unstable, high-energy thermal film adheres to its surface.
The first bullet hit one of the zombies charging at the front.
There was no blood splattering.
The zombie's body seemed to be struck by an invisible, high-temperature force field, and instantly "melted".
Yes, it melted.
The subspace thermal energy carried by the bullet reacted violently with the decaying energy of the corpse.
Half of the monster's chest cavity disappeared.
There was no bleeding from the wound.
Instead, it exhibits a charred and carbonized state, which is even spreading to the surrounding area.
"Ahhhhh!"
Buck let out a beast-like roar.
He was venting his pain, and he was also venting his fear.
The heavy logging gun trembled violently in his hands, each recoil feeling like a heavy hammer slamming into his shoulder.
But he didn't stop.
A dense hail of bullets formed a purple fire net, cutting down rows of charging monsters.
The Nurgle creatures, which originally possessed extremely strong regenerative abilities, completely lost their advantage in the face of these enchanted ammunition.
The wound cannot heal.
The rotten flesh was charred.
Even the plague gas emanating from their bodies was instantly evaporated by the high temperature.
"It worked."
Luo Wei watched this scene and silently made a mental note of it.
"Warspace thermal enchantment, provides a damage bonus of over 200% against Nurgle creatures. Side effect: Severely reduces barrel life."
Through his binoculars, he could clearly see that the barrel of a heavy logging gun was beginning to turn red and soften.
The dark purple metallic surface dripped slowly down like melted wax.
This is an unsustainable way of fighting.
A waste of imperial property.
But that's exactly what he wanted.
By launching a one-time, high-cost offensive, we can squeeze every last bit of residual value out of an asset before it becomes completely obsolete, thereby gaining a decisive battlefield advantage.
This aligns perfectly with the logic of a junior clerk.
Since it's destined to be written off, let's make it leave the most glorious mark on the loss list.
However, Nurgle's army never retreats so easily.
Just as the horde of zombies was being suppressed, the ground suddenly trembled.
"Thump."
"Thump."
The heavy footsteps even drowned out the roar of gunfire.
A colossal creature emerged from the shadows.
That was a plague-ridden Oglin.
Ordinary Oglins are known for their extreme strength and low intelligence, and are typically used by the Empire as shock troops.
The Plague Oglin is the terrifying form of these creatures after they have been "blessed" by Nurgle.
It is three meters tall, like a moving small mountain.
The original human characteristics have completely disappeared.
Swollen and deformed muscles.
A hard, keratinous skin covering the entire body like armor.
A large gash appeared on its belly.
The intestines flared outwards like tentacles.
Each tentacle has a small mouth full of sharp teeth.
It was carrying a giant spiked club made of scrap I-beams and concrete blocks, with half of a laborer's corpse hanging from it.
"roar!!!"
Oglin let out a deafening roar.
It lowered its head, like a runaway heavy tank, charging forward amidst a hail of bullets.
"Focus fire! Take down that big guy!" Buck roared.
The machine gun bullets struck Oglin, sending up bursts of purple sparks.
But this monster's skin was just too thick.
The skin was charred, and the flesh was blown away.
For its enormous size, this was merely a superficial injury.
It is still charging forward.
We are less than fifty meters from the second line of defense.
At this distance, anyone could smell its nauseating stench.
The defense soldiers began to panic.
Several machine gunners' hands trembled, and the bullets deviated from their targets.
"It's going to break in!"
Buck cried out in despair.
If such a monster were allowed into the trenches, it would be a massacre.
On the command tower, Luo Wei remained calm.
He didn't even look at the approaching plague, Oglin.
Instead, he looked towards the front of the defensive line, at the strange-looking dark red metal wall.
That was a "steel behemoth" harvester, with its armor plates disassembled and reassembled to form a defensive fortification.
"Alpha," Rowe asked, "is it hungry?"
The technical priest standing behind him suddenly had a burning red light in his eyes.
"Its soul... is as hungry as a thirsty man."
Just as the plague Oglin was about to crash into the defense line.
The dark red metal wall, which had been motionless, suddenly came to life.
This is not an adjective.
The moment Oglin's shoulder struck the metal plate.
The sturdy armor plate did not dent or crack like ordinary steel.
Instead, it became soft.
It was like a deep-sea mollusk that had opened its gaping maw.
"puff!"
Oglin's violent impact didn't send it flying; instead, it sank deep into the metal wall.
Then, a chilling scene unfolded.
The rough cuticle on the surface of the metal plate turned into countless sharp barbs.
They clung tightly to Oglin's skin.
Pierce its muscles, lock its bones.
Oglin let out a terrified roar.
It tried to struggle, trying to pull its body out.
But the more it struggled, the tighter the wall gripped.
The dark red metal began to wriggle, spreading down Oglin's arms and shoulders.
Like a living fungal carpet, it greedily wraps around its prey.
"Sizzle sizzle..."
A sound similar to strong acid corrosion was heard.
That's the metal secreting some kind of digestive fluid.
No, to be more precise, it is the mutated metal plate that has absorbed the fluids of the Nurgle and been catalyzed by subspace vapor that is "feeding".
It decomposes the biomass of Oglins and converts it into its own nutrients.
Oglin's indestructible keratinous skin softened and dissolved rapidly under the influence of the mutated metal.
Its thick arms withered away rapidly.
"A miracle...this is the dark miracle of Om Messiah..."
Father Alpha was peering through the observation window.
Several mechanical tentacles waved excitedly in the air.
It records this precious yet desecrated data.
"Metal activity increased by 300%, self-repair mechanism activated, it's growing! It's getting stronger!"
Luo Wei watched this scene coldly.
That's really strong.
But it is indeed very dangerous.
This is no longer the technology of the empire; this is trying to negotiate with a tiger for its skin.
He is using the power of chaos to fight against chaos.
In Earth terms, it's using magic to fight magic.
If one is not careful, this metal wall will turn around and swallow the people inside.
"Stop watching," Rowe ordered over the loudspeaker. "Kill it while it's trapped."
Buck and his men were stunned by this bizarre scene.
They only snapped out of their daze when they heard Rowe's command.
All the firepower was concentrated on Oglin, who was half-buried in the wall.
The purple flames shone once more.
Having lost his ability to move, Oglin became an easy target.
A few minutes later.
With a mournful cry of despair, the mountain of flesh ceased its struggle.
Its massive body was riddled with holes.
With the metal wall engulfing it, most of its body had melted into pus.
After being "fed" its fill, the dark red metal wall became even darker, and its surface developed a glossy metallic sheen.
It slowly loosened the wreckage, returning to its hard, cold form.
On the thick armor plates, the outline of a distorted human face was vaguely visible, and it even looked somewhat like the Oglin from before.
The battlefield began to fall silent.
This silence was even more deafening than the gunfire that had just erupted.
Without heavy armor units to act as meat shields, the remaining rebels and hordes of zombies did not collapse like regular troops.
Instead, it slowly and silently retreated into the distant mist.
They did not turn around, nor did they make any sound.
The orderly retreat exuded a chilling sense of order.
The enemy's second offensive has ended.
Lo Wei did not let his guard down.
His gaze swept across the devastated battlefield.
Pass over the dark red metal wall that is digesting food.
It was cast into the darkness further away.
He was calculating.
"Case," Rowe pressed the communicator, "Assess enemy losses."
"Based on image analysis, the enemy lost approximately 2,300 low-tier zombies, the Traitor Guard suffered over 40% casualties, and the entire heavy assault unit, Plague Oglin, was wiped out."
The cold, electronic voice of the wet server reported to him, "Attack-to-loss ratio, 1:12. For a conventional campaign, this is already a rout."
Luo Wei shook his head, his eyes deep.
"Conventional logic does not apply to the Lords of Plague; they do not care about casualties."
"For the Lord of Plague, death is merely another form of life cycle. Two thousand corpses are nothing more than two thousand new petri dishes."
"But they retreated," Father Alpha added, his prosthetic eye scanning the metal wall. "Perhaps they were overwhelmed by the miracle of Om Messiah?"
Luo Wei shook his head.
He took out a clean handkerchief and wiped the cold sweat from his palms.
"The followers of the Plague Lord are crazy, but not stupid. Especially the wizards who are directing things from behind the scenes."
He pointed to the dark red metal wall and the almost-destroyed heavy logging gun.
"It is the strength we have demonstrated that has exceeded their expectations."
"First, the metal walls that can devour rotting flesh and blood as fuel have broken their war of attrition logic of 'trading corpses for battle lines.' The more they send, the thicker our defenses become."
"Secondly, bullets imbued with subspace thermal energy can suppress regeneration at the molecular level. This means their 'recycling and reuse' chain is broken."
"The Nurgle creatures that die here cannot be resurrected or recovered; it's a pure net loss."
Lo Wei paused, folded the handkerchief neatly, and put it back in his pocket.
"For a shrewd plague gardener, if a piece of soil not only fails to grow mushrooms but also devours seeds and fertilizer, the most sensible thing to do is to temporarily abandon it and look for a more easily corruptible target."
"For example... other granaries."
Father Alpha's red light flashed: "You mean, they'll change targets?"
"If that plague wizard were smart enough, he would have done it."
"At least until they find a way to break through this 'wall of gluttony,' or until they amass enough forces to overwhelm us in one fell swoop, the Seventh Granary is safe for now."
This is a strategic deterrence based on cost accounting.
Luo Wei knew very well that he had not truly defeated that vast, rotten sea in terms of force.
He only won one business negotiation.
By demonstrating the extremely high "acquisition cost," the shrewd Plague Gardener voluntarily gave up this unprofitable deal.
Through the metal wall and the gun barrel burning with purple flames, he demonstrated an almost blasphemous "toxicity".
For the vulgar appetite, the Seventh Granary is no longer a piece of juicy meat on the chopping block, ready to be slaughtered.
Instead, it was a hard bone covered in barbs and soaked in deadly poison.
Anyone who tries to force themselves to swallow it should be prepared to have their mouthful of fangs shattered.
The alarm light on the control panel turned from red to green.
After a brief silence, the seventh granary began to shake again.
Pistons slam, exhaust valves hiss, and rusty gears mesh together.
A heavy stirring sound came from inside the fermentation tank; it was the dull thud of bones, flesh, and waste being crushed and mixed together.
The boiler roared as it increased pressure, and steam surged and collided in the pipes.
In this wasteland, there is no poetry, no hope.
Only this harsh, monotonous, and never-ending industrial noise can bring a kind of almost cold comfort.
It means that the machine is still running and order has not yet collapsed.
This means that today's accounts can still be balanced.