"The Alliance must have warned you that under no circumstances should you kill anyone!" Emma Kensington also knew that she had interrupted Michael's operation, but she remained calm, providing an irrefutable reason.
"At a time like this, you expect the Alliance to come save her, to save us!" Michael knew very well that Emma Kensington was just finding an excuse to pressure him, but he didn't want to break ties.
What to do? Continue the attack? It would almost certainly cost the little girl's life and might not even kill the C-level zombie. Do they just stand by and watch as it kills the little girl before taking action?
Clearly not!
"It's buying time!" Michael suddenly realized the possible intention of the C-level zombie and his face changed. "We can't let everyone die for the sake of one child!"
They had to get on the ship before nightfall, or they wouldn't make it out alive! Following the city's destruction was something Michael couldn't accept!
Action!
The three members of the 191st squad were ready to attack again, and this time, Emma Kensington couldn't stop them!
Just at that moment, a figure suddenly appeared beside the C-level zombie, and no one noticed how he arrived. He kicked the zombie and quickly rescued the little girl, carrying her and running toward the crowd!
The C-level zombie didn't react in time, and neither did the crowd. A few more steps, and he would have successfully saved the little girl.
But at that very moment, a cold light flashed, and a wound appeared on Clark's left thigh. Blood flowed out, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground. However, just before falling, he threw the little girl towards Emma Kensington.
Emma Kensington hurriedly caught the little girl, who started crying. She handed her to her mother and then looked coldly at David, who wore a triumphant expression.
"You dare to take action!" Emma Kensington was genuinely furious.
Only now did everyone realize that, just before Clark ran toward the crowd, David had secretly attacked him, injuring him with a directional throwing knife and causing Clark to fall between the crowd and the C-level zombie.
At this moment, the C-level zombie was already approaching Clark.
"Traitor!" Olivia Turner cursed, picking up anything she could find to throw at David.
David didn't care at all, his face still smug. He even stepped on his own broken arm, seemingly ready to end his life.
"You'll face trial in the Alliance court, but I'm afraid I might not be able to resist killing you before that!" Emma Kensington said, then charged toward Clark.
Could they rescue him before the C-level zombie attacked?
At this critical moment, an anomaly occurred. The entire open space started trembling. The C-level zombie stopped, seemingly waiting for something.
"Why do I feel shorter?" someone exclaimed.
"No, we are sinking!"
Starting from the central position, the entire open space began to sink. A pair of giant pincers, resembling door panels, slowly emerged from underground, obviously a living creature, still wriggling continuously.
Once someone approached, the pincers would snap shut, cutting the person in half. Then, beneath the pincers, a large mouth opened, revealing itself, ready to devour the bodies.
People were continuously being killed.
"What is this thing?" Even Michael was startled. It was his first time encountering such a bizarre creature. He quickly picked up the flamethrower, spraying flames toward the pincers.
The flames turned the pincers red, but it didn't affect its ability to continue cutting people in half and devouring them. The flames even seemed to give it a deadlier attacking power.
This was the thing the C-level zombie had been waiting for!
Everyone would die in the mouth of this sand-dwelling monster!
"Run!" Olivia Turner shouted, trying to alert those around her to escape. However, she found herself unable to move. Looking down, she realized that some kind of tentacle-like appendage had wrapped around her legs. The more she tried to loosen it, the tighter it became. Some people were already pained to the point of collapsing on the ground, their legs ensnared, and then the appendages dragged them toward the monster's mouth.
Even Michael and Emma Kensington were entangled.
Michael tried to use throwing knives to cut the appendage, but found that the blades couldn't sever it.
"We're done!" Michael felt a sense of despair.
"Cut off our legs, maybe there's still a chance!" Emma Kensington unexpectedly blurted out this idea, but she herself didn't move.
Everyone was stunned. This survival method would leave them crippled even if they managed to live, surrounded by zombies nearby. The only difference between dying now and dying a bit later was the timing.
Not wanting to stir up conflict suddenly thought of something. He looked at Emma Kensington, mouthed something, but didn't say anything.
David was about to be dragged to the side of the giant pincers. Upon hearing her words, he made a desperate decision. Overcoming reason with a will to survive, he took out a throwing knife and actually cut off his own feet at the ankles. Blood sprayed out, and he crawled out, his face pale, but there was a hint of pride.
You fools, thinking of a way but not daring to act. I've got the guts!
Little did he know that the fresh blood had attracted the attention of the sand-dwelling monster. Numerous tentacles emerged from the sand, entwining his entire body like a cocoon, and he was dragged toward the monster's mouth.
"No, Captain, save me!" David shouted loudly.
Michael had his hands full and couldn't save him. All he could do was watch as David was clamped into pieces by the giant pincers, dropping into the monster's mouth to be devoured.
"Evil begets evil!" Olivia Turner's face showed disgust. In her eyes, David's death was cleaner than him being alive.
"You!" Michael glared at Emma Kensington but ultimately said nothing. The person was dead, and there was no longer any value in offending a companion for him.
People continued to be killed, and it seemed like the sand-dwelling monster could never be satisfied, wanting to devour everyone!
The C-level zombie seemed to be enjoying the show, playing with a sense of amusement, without any intention of taking action again.
"Give me the flamethrower, quickly!" Clark's wound on his thigh had stopped bleeding after a simple treatment. He struggled to get up and shouted at Michael, who was closest to him.