Despite Saeko Busujima being shot, and the anger surging in his heart, Roy did not act immediately. His LV.1 strength was insufficient to confront modern firearms head-on.
Roy carried Saeko Busujima and hid in a nearby patch of grass. As time passed, the fire in his heart did not diminish; instead, it burned ever fiercer.
It was already dusk when he left Fujimi Academy, and by the time he arrived here, night had fallen, with a bright moon hanging high in the sky.
Half an hour later.
Roy slowly opened his eyes. A bloody, cold glint flashed deep in his pupils, like an awakened beast.
The surroundings were terrifyingly quiet. The soldiers inside the base knew that noise would attract zombies—which could be inferred from their use of a suppressor earlier. Thus, they had minimal defenses set up and no searchlights.
Roy lay flat on the ground and slowly crawled toward the large truck. The entire process took only one minute.
He reached the underside of the truck successfully.
Roy found his target, raised the Muramasa Sword, and thrust it forward. The sharp tip pierced the fuel tank, and gasoline with a pungent odor poured out.
Soon, the ground was soaked with gasoline.
Roy returned to the driver's seat, inserted the key, started the engine, and slammed the accelerator. The truck shot forward like an arrow.
Bang!
The large truck smashed through the base gate's barricade and drove straight inside, stopping in an open area.
The owner of this truck was also a heavy smoker. Roy pocketed a windproof lighter, ignited the gasoline on the ground, and the flames instantly spread.
Having done all this, Roy moved with the speed of a rabbit, pushing off with his feet and slipping into the shadows.
The burning truck made a loud crackling noise, and rolling black smoke rose, illuminating the surroundings. It was extremely conspicuous in the quiet night sky.
The surrounding zombies raised their heads and shuffled towards the light. With the barricade gone, the base was wide open.
The truck's roar and the sound of the barrier being broken alerted the soldiers inside the base.
The white strongman, Alton, looked through the window, saw the zombies approaching the base, grabbed the radio, and roared, "F**k! Welin, what the hell are you doing!"
"I don't know!" The blonde youth on duty in the tall tower was equally bewildered. At that moment, he also saw the zombies that had broken into the base.
And that truck, blazing fiercely.
"Is that the brat?!"
The blonde youth immediately realized what was happening, his face turning dark. The target actually dared to retaliate against them.
Seeing the zombies about to enter the base, Lieutenant Alton couldn't sit still. "Welin, quickly kill those zombies! Dan, wake everyone up!"
The resting soldiers were called up, quickly arming themselves—the swift efficiency of professional military personnel.
They had set up an M2HB Browning heavy machine gun on the high tower, with a field of fire covering nearly half the base. The blonde, blue-eyed youth aimed the muzzle at the base gate and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Tutututu! Tutututu!
The intense gunfire echoed through the night sky, and the zombies about to enter the base fell down in droves.
But this was a vicious cycle. More and more zombies were attracted by the gunfire, forming a massive queue at the end of the road, rushing forward like rabid dogs.
At this point, the other soldiers in the base took up their positions, covering the area with intersecting fire, killing the zombies.
The best solution would actually be to seal the gate and then clear the remaining zombies inside.
But looking at the ever-increasing horde, the remaining soldiers swore that if the Lieutenant forced them to seal the gate, they would choose to kill the Lieutenant instead!
The American soldiers, focused on dealing with the zombies, had not yet realized that their true grim reaper was about to descend. The blonde, blue-eyed youth, however, had a feeling that Roy's retaliation wouldn't be so simple.
Welin fired at the zombies while anxiously and angrily searching for Roy's whereabouts. This low-caste human dared to resist a noble white man.
Roy lay prone in the grass near the wall, using the shadows and weeds for cover, like a hunter studying his prey. He was observing the number of people and their firepower inside the base.
To defeat the strong with the weak, the many with the few, the most critical element was information. Rushing in blindly was suicide.
With the zombie invasion, almost everyone in the base came out to defend. There were sixteen people in total, fourteen men and two women. The highest rank was the Lieutenant, whose shoulder patch was a silver rectangular pattern.
Roy's gaze fixed on the Lieutenant. The importance of taking out the commander was self-evident.
Under the command of that sturdy man, the dozen or so soldiers were clearly organized and showed no sign of panic. Roy had no doubt that, barring an unexpected event, this zombie attack would be easily suppressed by them.
But he was that unexpected event!
Roy moved slowly along the wall, silently approaching the white Lieutenant.
Seeing that all the soldiers were focused on dealing with the zombies at the base gate, completely unaware of an enemy behind them, Roy seemed to understand something.
That bastard who shot Saeko Busujima hadn't reported the fact that Roy had broken in. Regardless of his reasons, the situation was extremely favorable to Roy—the enemy was exposed, and he was hidden.
As Roy got within twenty meters, the professional military Lieutenant seemed to sense something. A flicker of unease crossed his face, his brow furrowed, and his eyes shifted.
But it was too late!
Wind-Walking!
Roy activated the special effect of his Wind-Chasing Boots, sprinting forward in one motion, instantly crossing the distance between them. The Muramasa Sword pierced the stout man's chest from behind, ran straight through his heart, and blood dripped from the sword tip.
The stout man briefly looked over his shoulder, his mouth agape.
Roy pulled out the Muramasa Sword, and the man's body collapsed, his blood pooling on the ground.
"Lieutenant?!"
"Why is there a kid?"
"Shoot him!"...
The four closest soldiers, who were dealing with the zombies, were collectively stunned by the sudden turn of events. In their fury, they tried to swivel their guns.
But Roy was faster.
Roy pulled out the Frost-Ice Blade. A frigid chill erupted from the blade, manifesting like an ice dragon that roared and lunged towards them.
The four soldiers in front were instantly frozen into ice sculptures.
Crack!
Tiny cracks appeared on the Frost-Ice Blade, spreading across the length of the weapon. Roy glanced down, feeling a pang of heartache. He knew this magic sword could, at most, be used one more time.
Magic swords were simply too useful. No chanting was required, and the magic was instantaneous. That feature alone was enough to terrify enemies. This high-grade magic sword was even more potent. Roy estimated it was equivalent to a magic sword costing six or seven hundred thousand Valis from the Hephaestus Familia.
Roy put away the Frost-Ice Blade and charged forward, swinging the Muramasa Sword with all his might, cutting down the American soldiers inside the ice along with the solid ice itself.
By the time the other soldiers reacted, Roy had already slipped away, submerging himself back into the deep shadows.
As he moved, Roy glanced towards the high tower, meeting the eyes of the blonde, blue-eyed youth. Roy's cold gaze seemed to say:
"You're next!"