Salute To The General

Chapter 1887



At the back of his troop, Apocalypse was standing there with his arms crossed. He had envisioned the assassination of Nathan to go just as smoothly as it did with Corey Lucas.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined things to turn out difficult.

The nerve-wracking stand-off he was in had also taken a toll on him mentally.

He had brought every single fighter of the Demon Troopers, all two hundred of them. While there were strict regulations on the use of guns in Brimmopolis, regulations which the Demon Troopers did not dare breach thoughtlessly even with Clifford Davier backing them, Apocalypse knew that they had to get more powerful weapons.

The Demon Troopers usually trained with swords and daggers, but this time, their two snipers were equipped with two sniper rifles. Fifty fighters were given sub-machine guns while the rest fought with swords.

Apocalypse had thought that a weapon upgrade would help them defeat Nathan easily, but in retrospect, he realized that he had terribly underestimated Nathan's strength.

With the stress really getting to his head, he urged his troop to fight with their lives. "Our enemies are outnumbered. They have fewer bullets than we do too. Don't hesitate and charge on! You'll get two million for each enemy you kill. And the person who kills Nathan Cross shall get a billion! These are Mr. Davier's very words! If you want the money, show me what you've got!"

A billion for Nathan's head?Two million for any one of his subordinates?

Apocalypse's words worked like anabolic steroids - the eyes of the soldiers of the Demon Troopers lit up, and their morales were at an all-time peak. Those armed with sub-machine guns even came out of hiding, screaming their war-cry and charging forward.

Of course, the one at the front was instantly shot down by Colin and the Elite Eight.

on with their attacks, stepping over the flesh and bones of their dead comrades. It was an unsettling and

overwhelmed with stress.

I don't have many bullets left,"

Trinity added, "Me too!"

running out of bullets too...

the Elite Eight also seemed to be facing the

looked down at his sniper rifle. Only five bullets were

he looked

"General?"

was nowhere to be

Where did he go?

not even have the brain cells to try to figure out

conserve the usage of our bullets. We need to

"Got it!"

firing bullets within tens of meters of their enemies. Apocalypse noticed that

many of our brothers have died in their hands, our enemies

smug about the turn of

of a sudden, squeals and gasps of his subordinates filled

He could almost smell the scent of danger

turned his head in the