Chapter 846: The Target Is Not So Simple

Chapter 846 -704: The Target Is Not So Simple

From beneath Iron Claw’s mask came a heavy gasp, and with a backhand swing, an invisible vibrational wave blade sliced through the air like lightning, precisely chasing the rebounding silver particle.

“Crack—!”

A crisp and short bang.

The silver particle attempted to evade but ultimately failed to completely escape.

At the moment the wave blade swept it, the particle shone brightly, exploding in a small cluster of blue-white sparks, immediately splitting neatly to reveal slender energy conduits, meter-level crystal arrays, and still flickering microchips within.

Iron Claw slowly turned around, the thick soles of his boots grinding over the scraps on the ground.

Facing Shadow Scorpion, his arms appeared to hang limply, but the exoskeleton at his knuckles emitted a cracking sound; the internal pressure system was accumulating energy.

Suddenly, ten cold, gleaming alloy blades—more akin to lethal metal claws rather than mere blades—sprung forth from his hands, the high-frequency oscillation hum growing even sharper and more piercing.

He sneered; his voice came through the mask’s filter, carrying a metallic friction quality:

“All you do is hide behind phantoms, bug. If you’ve got guts, drop those tricks and face me head-on? Watch me tear off your scorpion tail segment by segment and shove it up your ass!”

Seeing that a precious Phantom Bee of his had been destroyed, Shadow Scorpion erupted with a terrifying killing intent, dropping the temperature inside the gas station by several degrees.

No longer holding back, he flicked his wrist, and dozens of silver particles shot out from the seams of his armor, bringing a faint sound of breaking through the air.

Instantly, the inside of the dilapidated gas station became surreal, filled with chaotic lights and shadows.

In the previously dim space, dozens of “Shadow Scorpions” appeared.

Each one lifelike, not just in appearance but in the subtle nuances of movement, defensive posture, and even the cold and vigilant eyes seen through their masks’ slots.

Some leaned forward, armor on their hands ejecting energy daggers; others lowered their center of gravity, with scorpion-tail-like mechanical appendages flexibly moving behind them; still others side-stepped, moving with light steps…

Dozens of phantoms, varied in motion, were faintly encircling Iron Claw in the center, forming an indistinguishable death maze.

These Phantom Bees were far from mere optical projections.

Each particle carried a highly customized AI core, capable of almost 100% simulating Shadow Scorpion’s attack mode, impact feedback, and even energy fluctuations, creating a battlefield truly indistinguishable to the naked eye.

“Come on, fool! Find my real body!”

Dozens of Shadow Scorpions spoke simultaneously, their voices overlapping, forming a dizzying three-dimensional echo in the room.

Iron Claw glanced around at the encirclement, snorting disdainfully through his nose, unfazed by the formation.

He suddenly leaped in place, swift as a leopard; the exoskeleton armor on his back emitted a series of crisp “crack crack crack” sounds, suddenly opening up, thrusting four pairs of sturdy, jointed mechanical limbs.

The ends were equipped with sharp probes, fast-rotating micro cutting wheels, or powerful suction cups.

This instantly transformed him into an iron spider brimming with tech vibes, easily suspending himself from the ceiling’s steel beams covered in webs, dust, and rust.

The eight limbs spread wide, covering a far broader attack range than when standing, with the cold metallic sheen flashing in the dim light.

The battle was poised to erupt!

However, in this gunpowder-filled corner, two figures wearing White Masks didn’t even lift an eyelid, still engrossed in their own tasks.

One sat on a tattered chair stripped to its metal frame, busy cleaning a uniquely designed long-barreled rifle.

The rifle’s body was wrapped in energy conduits emitting a faint blue glow, as if liquid energy slowly flowed through them.

His armor color was slightly darker than the others’, appearing in a muted deep gray, and his shoulder armor had two closed box-like structures like silent bumps concealing unknown destructive power.

He was Fire Raven, the team’s ranged firepower expert.

The other leaned against a relatively clean corner, arms crossed, helmet slightly nodding as if napping.

His armor was the thickest among the team, joints reinforced with visible strengthening plates and additional hydraulic rods, and each forearm was embedded with a faintly recessed dark red energy core.

His physique was the tallest and most robust, sitting there like a massive door panel capable of withstanding any impact.

He was Fortress, the team’s undeniable frontline and tank.

Clearly, both had long been accustomed to the team’s main form of “communication” being violence.

“Enough, everyone settle down; this mission objective isn’t simple.”

A deep voice that carried a metallic resonance sounded from the corner, coming from the last White Mask.

Though not loud, the voice felt like a heavy hammer, shattering the almost solidified tension between Iron Claw and Shadow Scorpion.

Unlike the others whose masks fully covered their faces, his ghostly white mask hung uniquely at an angle, only securely covering the right side of his face, leaving the left completely exposed.

The exposed skin had a peculiar mercury-like texture, smooth, with no pores.