Chapter 112: Monkat
Translator: Letty Editor: DarkGem
As the man had said, Sanpang’s arrogance was ignored by both the bartenders and the waiters.
Sanpang lost his interest when the boredom of being ignored hit him. He stepped down from the chair, and started boasting about his achievement, "Listen, listen. What I got in the jungle is incredibly valuable, because I found a kind of insect that had just evolved..."
Sanpang kept flaunting himself, and that attracted the attention of a one-armed woman who had a hook installed on her stump. She supported her chin with the heel of her other hand, listening as if the stories told were also experienced by a person that stayed in her heart.
At the same time.
Something tense was happening in the jungle.
A troop fell into a trap, and some of the members were tied up by ropes that had been buried under the dry leaves on the ground. All of those caught were hung upside down, and they started crying out of fear.
"What!"
"Ah!"
"What is it?"
Those men bawled.
"Someone untie us! Who set this trap up? F*ck this sh*t!" A man hung between the branches, shouting to his comrades underneath beneath him. "Get me loose! I’m already having a bad day for getting lost in the jungle at night."
"Hey! Someone answer me!"
Those men who hung upside down could only see red and blue colors through the optic goggles that they had bought from the institute.
Looking through the shrouding red fog, their companies didn’t instantly rescue them from the trap but stood still, as if they were alerted by something moving around them.
"Hey! I said..."
Those men hurried their companies, but then a few bulbous lumps bulged out from underneath the ground. A kind of animal that had a strange appearance poked out from one of the lumps, then another, and another.
"There’s something coming from beneath the ground!"
Those who stood on the ground were stabbed by the organisms that sprang up from below. Their hight was up to an adult’s abdomen.
"Monkats! They’re monkats! Run! Run!" the mercenary shouted out, firing his repeaters towards monkats. Some of these fierce animals that had monkey bodies with rat faces and claws were shot immediately.
Yet monkats were fearless and obsessed with fighting. They didn’t mourn for their companions’ deaths but got excited by blood. They squeaked even louder while throwing their wooden spears at the mercenaries, and those crude weapons penetrated through one of the men’s chests.
"Don’t touch their spears! They’re poisoned!" A man who knew about the monkats called for withdrawal. "Run! They aren’t something that easy to deal with," the man shouted out, fleeing.
However, a monkat threw a fruit-like object and hit his chest.
The fruit exploded upon impact, releasing green mist from within. The person couldn’t help but inhale a bit of that mist out of shock and fear, and then fainted.
The monkat which had hit its target with the fruit squeaked with pride.
Those who hung upside-down refrained from shouting, instead, they bent up to reach for their daggers that were hidden in their boots to cut the ropes. However, wooden spears rained on them, scratching their skins when passing by. All of the mercenaries began to twitch when the poison entered their systems.
For those who were on the ground, the fight with monkats wasn’t enjoyable or blood-boiling—they withdrew to the jungle while dodging the spears.
The leader of monkats squeaked loudly again when it saw the humans fleeing in all directions. His subordinates followed the command by jumping off the trees to the ground. They were rolling over the obstacles, springing between the bushes with great speed. Monkats were no doubt much more flexible than monkeys from before the apocalypse.
Apparently, humans were disadvantaged when competing in speed. Besides, even nowadays they could only see two meters further with the optic goggles, while monkats were gifted with night vision.
The mercenaries simply couldn’t get away from their pursuers.
There was a great disparity in strength, given that one side was fleeing with limited vision and speed.
So the mercenaries collapsed one by one from the wooden spears thrown from overhead, and it wasn’t even a long distance later that there were only three or four remaining.
More and more monkats joined this human hunt.
The never ending rustling sound from all around broke the surviving mercenaries’ last nerve.
"Brother, we’re going to die."
One of the survivors ran slower and slower, eventually stopping with a tear-stricken face, sobbing.
"Don’t cry, dad told us that we should never fear nature." The other one also stopped. He threw away his repeater, taking out a few grenades. "Here, we must take some of those bastards to hell with us. We must let them know that humans aren’t easy to deal with, either."
"Brother..." The boy who seemed to be only eighteen years old took the grenades from his brother’s hand. He clenched his teeth to cheer himself up, repeating, "Fear is more dreadful than death, fear is more dreadful than death. Papa told us that fear is more dreadful than death. I’m not afraid, I’m not scared."
He murmured to himself again and again, until his face blushed due to agitation. When he was about to pull out the security to release the grenade, a deafening sound echoed through the jungle.
BOOM!
The noise must have been produced by a heavy caliber weapon, and a weapon meant that someone was using it. The boy who had heard the gunshot lowered his hand, holding the grenade as if gripping a life-saving straw.
A deep voice came from the source of the gunshots.
"Hold on."
They were just two words but they granted hope for the boy to resist. He put away the grenade and picked up his repeater again. The deep voice of that man vanished, but a different kind of rustling sound replaced it.
The noise was different to the one made by monkats. Although it sounded like the one making it had a bigger body size, it was much more agile. A massive angel flying through the woods.
When that agile figure made brief stops, there would be shrieks emitting from monkats.
When the boy heard a shriek for the eighteenth time, meaning the death of the eighteenth monkat, a man descended from a tree crown, suddenly arriving in front of the boys.
The man dressed in a camouflage uniform was expressionless. He didn’t wear the optic goggles either, and had brought a live monkat in his hand.
He raised the monkat up high, straightening his arm. As if warning the sinister animals that still lurked in the tree crowns, the man squeezed the monkat’s neck, causing it to lose its ability to strike back.
While the man showed off his trophy in the air, the mercenary boy noticed that he took out his giant handgun, pointing at the monkat’s head. As if it all happened in slow motion, the boy could see the man’s finger draw back, and a bullet of an unusual size bolted out from the muzzle.
BOOM!
The handgun growled, and the monkat’s head exploded like a smashed watermelon.
Squeak!
The witnesses of the cruel judgment roared in rage and fear.
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