Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Rambo was awakened.

In fact, he was already used to being woken up. In the past, it was nightmares that woke him up from sleep. It was not easy for him to fall asleep, and it often took hours of hard work to sleep for half an hour.

Mental stress tormented him more than physical pain.

But not tonight. Tonight, he was awakened by the early warning device that he hadn't thought about since the arrangement. The iron basin fell to the ground, making a loud noise. Bang bang bang, like a machine that is about to be destroyed breathing hard.

Rambo stood up silently, his hand was already holding the m16, he opened the insurance, he reached out of the cover and started aiming.

It must be admitted that the moon tonight is not very bright. At night, if there is no suitable scope, the power of the firearm will drop by a few notches.

After all, how are you going to kill an enemy if you can't even aim?

He held his breath and looked down the hillside. There were dozens of wobbly black shadows between the mountains and forests. He didn't see it clearly, but he still broke out in a cold sweat in an instant.

Nightmarish scenes make for nightmarish behavior, and without hesitation, with guns in hand, Rambo rolls over cover. He quickly approached the first shadow, and the distance between them was only three meters.

Rambo could smell the damn rancid smell.

He silently raised the muzzle of the gun and pulled the trigger - the sudden gunshot was much louder than the sound of the iron basin falling to the ground before, alarming many animals that came out to hunt at night.

A few owls flew overhead, screeching loudly. Rambo didn't stop and continued to walk towards the next goal. His tactics were risky, no, it couldn't even be called a tactic.

If any bastard instructor dared to tell his students to walk up to the enemy's face and shoot, he would definitely be shot. This is not any tactics Rambo has learned on the battlefield, his actions are just to ensure his killing efficiency.

Don't gamble on luck.

If you shoot rashly, you will only waste bullets. Under the night sky, the hit rate cannot be guaranteed.

There is only one consequence of not being able to kill them quickly, dozens of walking corpses will squeeze in front of you, stretch out their stiff but still strong arms, and eat you alive.

He must be reckless.

Rambo ran wild in the mountains and forests,

This is the combat environment he is familiar with. The face-to-face situation also guaranteed his hit rate. Every time the m16 rang, a walking corpse was hit in the head.

It took him about forty minutes to get rid of all the walking dead. Breathing heavily, Rambo returned to the back of the bunker, covered in blood. He twisted open a precious bottle of water and washed his hands before drinking.

When his emotions calmed down, he instinctively felt that the behavior of these things was not normal - they seemed to have become more sluggish, even less than before.

This kind of thing can destroy civilization?

Rambo shook his head and took another sip of water. After changing the magazines, I took two more and put them on my waist. Hanging the gun on his body, he turned his head and picked up the shovel to shovel the body.

Although he didn't think he could fall asleep tonight, he didn't like breathing the air that smelled of blood.

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After a deep and restful sleep, Litosis woke up from his sleep.

He slept so well that he didn't really like the feeling - in this case, it would take more time for his body to wake up.

Putting on his uniform, he asked, "Any news for me?"

The pattern in the room answered him immediately: "No news, Captain. You can move freely today."

free time? What can he do?

Litosis shook his head and buttoned his cuffs: "Get me the training ground closest to me in the Terra Space Station."

The Terra Space Station is a huge place with everything in it—no, maybe it should be called everything.

According to the grapevine, someone has even seen a casino here. I don't know which bastard is so daring to open a casino on the Terra Space Station.

"Please wait a moment, Captain... The call is successful. Do you need to go immediately? According to the data, it is not advisable to exercise on an empty stomach in the morning."

"Of course I'm not going over now."

Litosis was laughed at, the pattern is good everywhere, but it is relatively rigid.

After a simple meal, he set foot on the road to the training ground-although this place is called a training ground, in fact, it is not the kind of place that people think of mixing gym and shooting range.

It is a simulated battlefield, which trains the combat skills of the soldiers... Due to the high level of realism, many people are even immersed in it.

Opening his eyes again, there was a scene of dilapidated ruins in front of Litosis. At the same time, a light curtain unfolded before his eyes.

"Scenario: The Last Man."

"Identity: Ordinary Astral Army."

"Mission description: You are a member of the 781st Regiment of the Astral Army. Your troops have suffered a major blow in a rebellious hive world. The traitors destroyed your ship with hidden heavy firepower. Some of the soldiers who first landed on the ground were killed easily by them."

"Now, you're the last one. You were lucky and unfortunate enough to fall into the lower hive city unscathed in the explosion. And you have to face more than 30,000 rebels armed with deadly weapons. They are hiding in the hive capital. , and your mission is to fight for the Emperor."

After reading the last line of words, the light curtain dissipated in front of his eyes. Litossis blankly checked the light gun in his hand, it was an m36 Catrel.

Usually assigned to Cadian commandos... it seems he is a Cadian in this simulation.

simulation......

Litosis took a deep breath of the foul-smelling air below the hive and began to walk forward. He chose the nightmare difficulty when choosing the difficulty of the simulated scenario. I have to say that the pattern is really sincere.

——This motherfucker is really nightmare difficulty.

One person faces more than 30,000 enemy troops and even has heavy firepower. It was a nightmare to have a Carter, four standard grenades and four magazines in my hands.

There was no expression on Litosis's face. He didn't expect himself to win, but only hoped to kill a few more. What a joke, Astarte didn't dare to say that he could kill 30,000 traitors in the hive alone, let alone a mortal.

Do your best.

He walked cautiously towards the still-flaming wreck not far away, and unsurprisingly heard the conversation of several traitors.

The reasons for betrayal are often varied, ranging from chaos to simple dissatisfaction with imperial rule. Either way, Litosis didn't care. For him, there is only one fate for the traitor.

His finger was on Carter's trigger, and there were several figures talking in front of him. At their feet lay a few dead people, who also seemed to be from the 781st Regiment.

Carter's low but sharp voice sounded abruptly, and several rebels were beaten to death before they could react. The power of the light gun is amazing when facing the flesh and blood, and the vaporized flesh makes the wound not even bleeding.

As long as you don't face some hell of something, light guns always do what they're supposed to do.

Litosis didn't show up directly, but stooped and quickly moved from cover to cover. He carefully circled the ruins twice, making sure there were no enemies nearby, before returning to the dead traitors.

He took away the grenades and ammunition from them, and took another m35, commonly known as the Galaxy-style light gun behind his back, and he left here without any hesitation.

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Half an hour later in the real world, Litosis suddenly sat up from his training cabin with a trace of pain still remaining on his face. He was just attacked from behind by two rebels in the simulation, and one of them slashed his throat directly with a dagger.

Death doesn't feel good.

Wen Zhen's voice sounded gently in his ear: "Captain, you just killed 432 people, your shooting accuracy is—"

"—Okay, no need to broadcast any more, let me slow down."

Litosis wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood up from the training cabin. Beside him, there are many such cabins, most of them are full, many soldiers are training in them, but there are no Astartes.

Litosis noticed this and asked, "Is the training ground closed to the monks?"

"The spirits of the Astartes monks are too strong to easily resonate with the simulated situation, so they cannot use the training cabin. The mechanical priests are following up on this."

I see.

Litosis nodded, stood up and planned to leave. He doesn't know what to do when there is no assignment, and life is usually very boring. But the pattern didn't bore him for too long.

"Breaking news, Captain, please go to the teleportation room immediately."

"I understand."

Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the teleportation room.

His commander had been waiting behind the transparent wall above, his hands behind his back, and Litossis didn't know his name, but he didn't care - seeing him coming, the commander nodded at him.

"Captain, I have bad news for you."

"what?"

"The sample you brought back has evolved." The officer's expression was extremely serious. "They have the ability to rage the host after absorbing about three servings of nutrients."

"Furious?"

"Let Wen Zhen explain to you." The officer rubbed his eyebrows tiredly, he didn't sleep last night. Submitting documents and all kinds of things are so busy that he can't enjoy the rest time.

Array soon took over from him: "The curses extracted from the samples were applied to the clones, and two study samples initially showed unexplained stiffness and slowness of movement. Their strength was increased, With permission, they were infused with nutrients roughly equivalent to the blood of three adults."

"After receiving these nutrients, their otherwise rigid bodies became more sluggish. But after just an hour, both study samples showed extraordinary speed and strength, and were more thirsty for nutrients. ."

"After obtaining permission, the research samples have been killed. The experimental samples you brought back have also been destroyed."

"You should know what that means, Captain," the commander said wearily. "The survivors on Colony One are in trouble, so your mission has been brought forward, any comments?"

"No, sir."

"Very well, two thousand men are on their way. Get ready, Captain."

"As ordered, sir."

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Rambo threw a grenade, and the explosion sounded two seconds later. The intense fire light dispelled some of the haze of the night, and also caused the two walking corpses to be blown to pieces.

He didn't stop, but immediately started to pull the trigger. The m16 began to spit flames, and under the influence of the ignited trees, he was finally able to aim smoothly. But there are still problems.

Those walking dead.

For some reason, they all ran faster one by one. These walking corpses came in the middle of the night. As soon as they arrived, Rambo noticed something was wrong. They're so fast, they're not like walking dead, not even human.

Not to mention aiming, it is very difficult to keep up with them with the naked eye. If it wasn't for Rambo being very familiar with this terrain and laying a lot of traps in it, he would have been caught by them and feasted.

This is the case, and he is also difficult to fight - this group of bastards is too fast. He couldn't understand why a group of dead people were so fast? Why can it be so fast? This is not common sense.

But he also thought that the resurrection of the dead and eating people everywhere was fucking unreasonable.

Gritting his teeth, Rambo shifted the muzzle, and a figure rushing towards him froze for a while. This short stay made it fall into a frenzy of bullet construction, and the surging firepower tore its body to shreds.

Rambo, who got the kill again, didn't stop, he ran away, and just now, out of the corner of his eyes, he had caught a few other walking corpses running towards him. In the gap between running, he took out a grenade, pulled out the pull ring, and threw it under his feet, then ran a few steps forward, and flew away from here.

There was a terrifying heat behind them, and those monsters who couldn't make any sound except the sound of running also made a second sound this time. Rambo clearly heard the sound of their bones and flesh being shattered, and his own back also felt a piercing pain.

Injured, maybe even worse. He gritted his teeth and groaned and got up from the ground. Detonating a grenade at such a close distance was no different from dying. If he had a choice, he would never do it. Too bad Rambo never had a choice.

Without checking the injury or the time to rest, he quickly changed the magazine for the m16 in his hand and loaded it. But the hapless thing did what it had done to kill many American soldiers on the battlefield—it got stuck.

"Oh shit!"

Cursing, Rambo immediately threw the m16 on the ground, pulled out the m1911 from his waist, and aimed at the surroundings with the .45 pistol that was still reliable after a hundred years. The valley fell silent at this time. He was breathing heavily.

finished?

Rambo didn't dare to relax his vigilance, and the piercing pain came from behind him, which made him grit his teeth and groan softly. At the same time, a huge blue light appeared in the distance of the valley.

He shrank a little and realized something - was it the commander and his troops? Are they back?