SOTOPIA: Artificial Pseudo-God

The attacking troops that landed from the darkness were like ghosts and lions that were preying, sharp and rough.That's what they were born for.

The party equipped with night vision devices obviously had the upper hand: when the power system was completely destroyed, the militants who lost their command could only fight on their own without a clue, and the chaotic gunfire was not conducive to their judgment of the situation on the scene.

Belikova, who was the first to rappel onto the cruise ship, did not use the radio to talk, but gave concise tactical gestures to issue combat instructions to her companions.They dispersed according to the plan, and gradually cleared the patrol posts on each deck from different directions.With a bang of the battering hammer, they broke open the door into the superstructure.

Another part of the team led by Belikova made an assault on the living deck.

She hid at the corner of the corridor, clenched the M4A1 gun in her hand.The group members who spread out in a tactical formation prepared for the assault in silence, and the power that could not be restored in a short period of time and the dim environment were their best cover.Immediately afterwards, the team members who had already put on gas masks threw the bomb in the direction of advancement.

The figure of the enemy flashed past in the thermal imaging scope.Belikova's hands did not tremble.Even when the fired bullet hit the target and the enemy fell, her eyes did not waver, only the gun in her hand vibrated upward due to the recoil.

——Oneshot, onekill.

For others, this is the ideal state; for Belikova and her peers, it is the basic requirement. □□The era of precision strikes does not allow mistakes beyond the floating range.

"Move forward." She gestured.The team members acted immediately, cautiously and quickly moving towards the area that had not been cleared in a semi-squatting tactical posture.

Before the operation began, all the headquarters got was the design drawing of the cruise ship before it was completed.As for the adjusted internal functional partitions, they can only figure it out in the course of action.But it's not difficult.Although the emergency lights turned on inside the building are bright, their range of exposure is limited.Whenever a door is forcibly breached, a few bombs are the first to smash into the room—the brief period of dizziness for the people in the room is enough for the attacking team to confirm the identity of the other party.Belikova did not forget that there were not only militants and "sponsors" on this cruise ship, but also hostages vital to Sotopia.

After controlling the cab, a team member quickly walked to Belikova and whispered: "Our team did not find the No. [-] target or the hostage."

She knew that target number one was Alexander.Compared with this, solving the "big killer" on the cruise ship is a more important part, although this unknown system should be destroyed by electromagnetic pulse.

Belikova rubbed her wrists (although her muscles weren't sore from the overwhelmingly fast firefight): "They're within the search range of the second squad." Her voice was muffled by the gas mask.She turned her head, arranged for the three of them to stay for defense, and then led the rest of the team into a new suppression operation.

In the darkness, when Alexander dragged Moskevich off the bed by the nape of his neck.

"They're here. You take this first." Alexander's tone seemed calm, but there was a bit of gnashing of teeth and anxiety inside.He had already donned a gas mask and forced Moskevich to do the same.

"Why use this?"

"You don't have to wear it if you want to choke on the fumes from above."

Although there was no movement of resistance, and he even snorted a few times because of Alexander's rough movements, Moskevich showed a rare smile behind the mask: "I thought you would be absolutely sure."

"Either a traitor," Moskevich could hear the anger in Alexander's words. "Either some gadget exposed the coordinates."

In this way, his task is completed.

"Your 'spider web' has been torn." Moskevich finally couldn't help laughing out loud.

Alexander laughed too. "But we have not lost. As I said, I am only part of the 'Tower of Babel'; as long as Sotopia exists, its enemies cannot disappear. Wait dear."

The older man grabbed Moskevich by the arm and dragged him toward the door, holding the SMG11 in the other hand, and sprinted through the dark escape tunnel without even a single pause.Moskevich thought that Alexander might be so familiar with this place that he memorized every ventilation duct.

Overhead is the chaotic sound of gunfire and footsteps - the attacking force will soon enter this level.

The "spider web" system that has not yet been put into use has fallen into a paralyzed state.In fact, this is already a relatively polite statement.Alexander did not let go of the restraint on Moskevich, but walked quickly to the console, and handcuffed Moskevich's hands to the bracket beside him.Immediately afterwards, Alexander used the light of the indoor emergency lighting to forcibly pry open the floor interlayer with a dagger, preparing to manually activate the self-destruct system composed of C4.

"After dealing with this side, I will take you away from the 'Yugiri'." He said to Moskevich.

However, a gunshot directly ruined his plan-the body armor failed to protect Alexander from the powerful damage of the ACR assault gun.Alexander fell to the ground at the sound; another missed bullet landed right next to the pile of guns, and Moskevich broke out in a cold sweat.

He heard the dull laughter between Alexander's painful gasps, and the sound of footsteps approaching from the door.

"Target confirmed."

The fortification team members who were tightly wrapped in gas masks and special military uniforms approached them cautiously with their guns raised.

After clarifying the current situation, Moskevich directly opened his mouth and shouted: "I am a hostage held by them. There is only Alexander here, and he has fallen to the ground with injuries." He shook the handcuffs and once again expressed himself with the sound of metal impact identity of.

Alexander was still laughing intermittently, even when his vision was gradually blurred due to excessive blood loss and the gun he was holding was kicked aside, the laughter still did not stop.Even though the opponent was still wearing a gas mask, Moskevich could feel his sharp gaze on him.

"It's not over," Alexander stared at him, and Moskevich could almost imagine the crazy smile that would be. "I can't die by your hands."

The desperate bandit leader crushed the drug capsule hidden in his mouth.Death happens in an instant.There is no lack of foreshadowing, but it is still hasty and sudden.Looking at his fallen body, Moskevich finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The battering team members squatted down and pulled off Alexander's gas mask—his eyes were wide open and he had stopped breathing.Having felt Alexander's pulse, armed strangers searched for his belongings.

"...This is simply the style of war criminals during World War II." Moskevich shook his free hands and stood up leaning on the console.

The man who uncuffed him didn't speak, just grabbed his arm with moderate strength to make him stand still.

"Can you go?" the man asked briefly, his voice rough and hoarse. "You are hurt?"

Moskevich shook his head: "My body is fine."

The muscular man moved his eyes from Moskevich to the nutrition tank on the other side, staring at the brain floating in the glass container.

Moskevich suddenly had a sense of foreboding.To be precise, he couldn't decide whether this was a good thing or not.

The man thought for a moment, then raised his gun—after a burst of shooting, he neatly smashed the nutrient tank and the brains in it into pieces, and the nutrient solution instantly splashed in all directions.

"You are—" Moskevich's eyes widened in astonishment.

The man was silent for a while, and said, "Help them out of the nightmare." Perhaps sensing Moskevich's shock, he asked back, "Or do you have a better plan?"

Moskevich gave a negative answer: "No, that's fine."

The gunfire on the cruise ship has gradually subsided.Perhaps, he thought, the battle was over—Alexander's gradually cooling body was the perfect witness.

"Let's go." The man held Moskevich by the arm in the posture of escorting an important person, and led him away from the meaningless "spider web"; the two who entered the door later waited beside Alexander's body, cleaning up the aftermath of the battlefield Works ready.

With the roar of the helicopter landing on the deck of the boat, the cruise ship Yugiri ushered in the first dawn after changing hands.The sea fog was thickening, obscuring the white light on the skyline.

The disarmed captives had no chance of resistance.They were controlled in an open open area, and the SWAT team members in charge of guarding seemed much more relaxed; the bodies of Alexander and others were parked not far away, and someone was checking the identities of the dead and the leftover items one by one.

The first to get off the helicopter were the military doctors.They trotted off the tarmac to treat the wounds of the injured team members during the assault.Moskevich, who was in good health, was also placed there, looking tiredly at the busy figure of the military doctor.

"Are you an 'insight' too?"

He heard someone talking to him.When he turned his head, Moskevich found that it was an unfamiliar face of his own age, but he had no memory of it.He nods.

"Me too." The other party said to himself.

Moskevich smiled, but said nothing.After a while, he took the initiative to speak: "We are finally free."

What responded to him was a refreshing laugh: "Yes, but everything has to go on."

They didn't talk anymore, they just stared silently at the surging tide outside the cruise ship.

Belikova was slightly injured during the operation - when she was clearing the remnants of the enemy, she rushed too far forward and was injured by a stray bullet.Seeing her boss walking towards her, she stood up while leaning on the wall, and the gas mask she took off was placed at her feet.

Frank had a gratified smile on his face.This made Belikova a little embarrassed.

"Alexander is dead." Her tone was full of remorse. "We should have captured him alive for interrogation."

"No, you're doing well." Frank comforted, and reached out to pat Belikova on the shoulder, like a mentor and a father.

Belikova pursed her lips, her expression was not completely relaxed: "Our victory is not because of how strong we are, but because Alexander and the others were treated as abandoned children."

Frank agrees with her: "This war is far from over."

Immediately afterwards, he approached Moskevich again, which made the latter flinch reflexively.

Frank knelt down, leaned close to Moskevich's ear, and whispered, "The murderer of Mrs. Reynolds is among these prisoners. I can lead you to meet him."

Moskevich froze.But he immediately stood up, temporarily putting aside his innate fear of Frank, and looked into his eyes: "Take me to see the murderer."

In fact, he himself didn't know why he did it.

And when Frank brought him to one of the many captives and told him in a relaxed tone how to conduct fast and efficient on-site interrogation of the captives and make the murderer confess the crime, Moskevich finally realized: An urge for revenge driven by anger.

He had witnessed the death of Christian Reynolds - Elena Komorowski; and this woman was his "mother".

Frank is still persuading him: "We can grant you a one-time execution right as a reasonable compensation for all your sacrifices so far-you can kill him now."

The mysterious man in the suit even stuffed the gun directly into Moskevich's hand.Ryan Ball .500, slightly heavy to the touch.The bullet was already loaded, and he only needed to pull the trigger against the terrified and desperate unfamiliar face in front of him.

Moskevich raised his gun.

He couldn't understand the prayers of the "condemned prisoner".

——Even so, I'm glad you didn't kill me or anyone.

A familiar voice suddenly sounded in his mind.This is not a nightmare, but the gentle words that he once deliberately ignored, and then cherished to the extreme.

"Shut up, Steven." Moskevich muttered to himself.

——Even if your innocent appearance is faked, I still think that you are not suitable for blood.

"No." Moskevich closed his eyes, and slowly lowered his hand holding the gun.He took a deep breath, smelling the dampness and saltiness brought by the ocean current. "Someone told me that I shouldn't—I couldn't be a murderer, even if there were countless reasons."

He returned the gun to Frank and said in a low voice, "You can kill him for me at any time, I just need one result." Moskevich left the crowd, walked slowly to the edge of the deck, and greeted the long night in the sea breeze. The long-lost sunrise.

The morning sun is gentle and not dazzling, but it is enough to dispel the heavy mist covering his heart and smash the heavy shackles that have imprisoned his lonely soul for a long time.

Moskevich felt free—he had never felt so at ease.