Re: Apocalypse Game

Chapter 88 Bloodhound

Every year since the inception of the Apocalypse game, humanity's best minds, researchers, and strategists had collaborated, seeking to decipher and confront the enigmatic challenges posed by this perplexing digital reality. As players delved deeper into the game, they stumbled upon a unique feature: the [Bloodline Booster]. This wasn't just any upgrade; it represented a monumental shift in gameplay dynamics.

The moment the first elite players unlocked and showcased the capabilities of the [Bloodline Booster], it transcended its status and became a global phenomenon. It allowed players to augment their virtual DNA, bestowing them with unique abilities tied to bloodline power.

Military think tanks recognized the tactical advantages that these Bloodline Boosters offered. Soon, secretive military programs were initiated.

In the third year of this relentless game, as the strategies matured and desperation grew, the military's experimentation birthed something extraordinary. Soldiers, those who manifested the ability to harness the [Wolf Gene] from the Bloodline Booster, were cherry-picked and molded into an elite fighting force. This elite cadre, constituting 30 exceptional soldiers, was christened the Bloodhounds Unit.

The formation of the Bloodhounds was not just a tactical move; it was a beacon of hope and the unit quickly skyrocketed to fame. They weren't just soldiers; they became symbols, showcasing the military's potential to finally triumph over the game.

However, the game, as always, was unpredictable and merciless. Merely two rounds post the formation of the Bloodhounds, the tides turned dramatically. Whether due to underestimation, overconfidence, or sheer bad luck, the unit found itself cornered. An order — some say it was a tactical retreat, others claim it was an abandonment — led to a massacre. The unit, celebrated and paraded just a while ago, was nearly obliterated.

Only a handful emerged from the carnage. Distraught by their perceived betrayal and the loss of their comrades, these survivors severed their ties with the military. They channeled their bitterness and unmatched skills to lay the foundation of a renegade group called the Blood Patriots.

####

One of these formidable Blood Patriots was now hurtling towards Alan.

Every swing, every motion was magnified by his augmented strength. When his claw sliced through the air, the very atmosphere seemed to quiver. Alan's attempt to parry had been almost flawless, his sword meeting the descending claw in a desperate block.

CLANKKKK!!!

With just one ferocious strike, Alan was sent sprawling back several meters. Yet, the sheer force behind the blow drained 10 of his HP, an alarming sign of Marcus's prowess. Even to the untrained eye, the difference in strength between them was unmistakable.

With an air of arrogance, Marcus halted his furious charge. Instead of pouncing on his wounded prey, he shifted his tactics, adopting the chilling, deliberate pace of a predator certain of its catch. The confidence in his stride was unmistakable, and his eyes never wavered from Alan.

Of the six rounds Alan unleashed, three found their mark, sinking deep into the monstrous form of Marcus. Each bullet, cumulatively sapping less than 50 of Marcus's HP.

Alan's experienced eyes took in the slightly labored movements of the half-wolf, performing quick mental calculations. Alan surmised that he might possess a health pool ranging from 300 to possibly 400 HP if one took into account the potential enhancements from his gear.

However, the crux of the matter wasn't the sheer amount of the wolf's HP, but its blinding speed. The half-wolf, representing one of the most agile bloodlines in the game, seemed almost impervious to these ranged assaults. Even Alan's D agility was not fast enough to outrun the wolf, and there was no need to compare his E strength.

Those who witnessed the high-octane chase exchanged nervous glances. Whispers spread, conjectures were made, and a consensus was reached: Alan was perilously close to his endgame. It felt inevitable. Just a matter of time before those fierce claws would find their mark.

"It appears a normal firearm has no use against you, let me give my new toy a try."

Without missing a beat, Alan holstered his trusty [Glock] and swiftly replaced it with the weapon he had recently come across, the uncommon [Luger]. It was a weapon renowned for its devastating firepower, further enhanced by a special attribute: [Bonus 20% damage against humans]. And while Marcus might have the form of a beast, the game still recognized him as part-human.

With calculated precision, Alan pivoted on his heel, retreating while simultaneously drawing his handguns. They barked loudly in the ensuing silence.

BAM BAM!!

[Shooting: Inflicts 30 damage]

[Shooting: Inflicts 28 damage]

It gave 20% more damage, but it wasn't the bonus damage Alan was rooting for, it was the stopping power. The lugger has dealt more damage and created a much stronger bullet impact forcefully making the half-wolf step held, and Alan used that split-second difference to regain his distance.

Dexterously, Alan continued his evasive maneuvers, ducking and weaving, all the while ensuring Marcus remained within his shooting range. His guns roared again.

BAM BAM!!

[Shooting: Inflicts 27 damage]

[Shooting: Inflicts 29 damage]

To the onlookers, this deadly dance resembled an intricate game of cat and mouse. However, this mouse was armed, making every twist and turn a potential threat to the predatory cat.

The Blood Patriots, fiercely loyal to Marcus, could barely contain their frustration. Their leader's dominance was being challenged by what seemed to be a mere nimble-footed player. Shouts of anger and encouragement filled the air.

"You're such a coward!!" "

Alan released 8 bullets and managed to hit 6 of them, by this time, Alan should have already taken more than 200 of Marcus's HP.

But even in this high-stakes dance of bullets and claws, Alan's vigilance never wavered. He was well aware of Marcus's capabilities, the reason why Marcus was not afraid of bullets.

Marcus, now more beast than man, locked his gaze onto Alan. With a soul-chilling howl, a miraculous transformation began. Every bullet wound, every puncture that marred his body, began sealing shut, as if they were never there. This wasn't just natural resilience; this was an inherent skill of the wolf bloodline, the ability to regenerate.

[Wolf Regeneration]