Chapter Forty-Six: Total Annihilation of the Opponent

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As the group “Return to Afghanistan” was about to enter the rotunda, Wu Hua had already riddled the doctor girl with bullets. Doctors had high defense, but even so, she couldn’t withstand the relentless onslaught of a green-grade gun and purple-grade ammo. Now, of the once formidable team of fifteen, only a single Level 27 Gene Warrior named “Return to Afghanistan” remained.

He wasn’t stupid; his plan was to dash into the rotunda and take cover. No matter how skilled the enemy, bullets couldn’t bend around corners, and the rotunda was the best cover there was.

Earlier, the mid-level boss had dropped two pieces of purple gear. He’d been secretly congratulating himself for wisely kicking out those outsider warriors and claiming the spoils for himself. Who would have thought a ruthless killer would appear? He hadn’t even seen the enemy’s face, let alone what kind of gun they were using, and now he was on the brink of death. He resolved that once he crawled into the rotunda, he’d use his receiver to “call headquarters and request fire support.”

But just as he crawled in, Tuber and Riwan, who’d been lurking on either side of the passage, pounced like hungry dogs on a bone.

These two old partners truly excelled at close combat. Tuber’s strength specialization was his pride and joy. He charged in, his metal combat boots slamming into Return to Afghanistan’s stomach, sending him flying. Before he even hit the ground, Riwan’s cleaver came whistling down from above.

It was a thunderous leaping strike, landing precisely, the blade biting into Return to Afghanistan’s ribs and flashing a high green damage number, “-788.”

Return to Afghanistan saw stars, but immediately felt a gentle force—he knew it was a telekinetic wave. The su2o didn’t deal direct damage, but used its telekinetic pulse to spin him in midair, dropping him right in front of Tuber. Return to Afghanistan’s expression changed.

He’d teamed up with these people before and knew their coordination was flawless. Once you were caught, you didn’t stand a chance.

Still, Return to Afghanistan decided to gamble. As the telekinetic wave caught him, he thrust his energy sword straight at Tuber’s chest, aiming for the heart.

“You want to resist?” Tuber’s eyes narrowed. With a flick of his hand, he knocked the energy sword aside, then launched a spinning kick—his legwork was his signature move. His foot struck Return to Afghanistan’s wrist dead on.

Clang—the energy sword clattered to the ground.

“Out of the way, let me handle this,” Riwan said, brandishing his cleaver and charging in. From afar, Wu Hua watched Riwan hacking away like a madman; the scene resembled chopping pig bones on a butcher’s block.

Pity the proud Level 27 Gene Warrior, Return to Afghanistan—he was beaten so badly he couldn’t even defend himself. After a flurry of purple blade flashes, he was left barely alive, HP down to just 23 points, clinging to his last breath. Lying on the ground, he gasped, “I... damn you all...”

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“Go take it out on Afghanistan,” Riwan sneered, bringing his cleaver down on Return to Afghanistan’s ankle. The man howled in pain, then exploded in a spectacular burst—more dramatic than a mini-boss.

Tuber and Riwan burst out laughing. “That was satisfying!”

Only then did Wu Hua emerge from the corridor with the three girls in tow. “That flurry of slashes you just did—is it a combat skill?”

Riwan replied smugly, “Good eye, Madman! That’s my self-developed skill from Level 20. I call it ‘Eighteen Pork Chops.’”

“No wonder it’s so impressive. Brother Ri, you’re amazing,” Wu Hua said, barely suppressing his laughter.

The three girls had just now processed what happened. All fifteen of the enemy were dead—fourteen of them by Wu Hua’s hand alone. Their eyes brimmed with awe.

“I told you three girls before, Madman is invincible. Do you believe it now?” Tuber seized the chance to brag, thinking that if boasting could become a skill, his “Shameless Aura” could wound enemies from a thousand miles away.

“But... you...” Lan Lan was still in disbelief, but quickly reasoned it out. Wu Hua’s gear was excellent, but more importantly, his skill and experience, his tactical use of terrain and his opponent’s psychology—“Madman, you’re truly a master!”

“What are you doing?” Tuber noticed Wu Hua picking up potions and crystals dropped by the dead. “Come on, you’ve got such a good gun—why bother with this junk?”

“You don’t understand. I just emptied over a clip of ammo—70 rounds, worth 35 credits. If I don’t scavenge a bit, I’m taking a loss.” Wu Hua didn’t look up, casually picking up a red-grade energy sword. Inspecting it, he saw the stats were pretty good: Attack Power 200–395, with an extra 20 fire damage. He figured he could sell it for six or seven hundred credits easily. “Why do I never lose out? Is it good luck?”

The three girls stared in amazement. Masters really did behave differently—nothing was beneath them.

“I want to learn from Madman,” Ling Ling piped up.

“What, you want to learn to scavenge?” Tuber retorted. “Of all things, you pick up his trash-collecting habit instead of something useful.”

Qiao Qiao suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no, Madman, you’ve gone blacklisted!”

Wu Hua started, glancing at his status bar—sure enough, he was pitch black.

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The murder system in Star Wars was truly wicked, with yellow, red, and black status. If you maliciously PK even once, you’re flagged yellow—your entire body, even your face, turns yellow, and your drop rate doubles. Kill a second player, and the color deepens; drop rate doubles again.

And so on—after five kills, you turn red. At that stage, you can’t use any transport in the ports, and if you run into an NPC police officer, they’ll kill you instantly, no questions asked. That’s the system: no matter how powerful a player is, if they commit heinous crimes, they’re doomed.

Kill more than ten, and you’re blacklisted. Blacklist status is the worst. If an NPC police officer kills you, you resurrect in the administration hall, only to be sucked up by a UFO beam and deposited in prison. You have to serve ten days there before you’re free, and logging off doesn’t count toward your sentence—you must spend the ten days online. For many players, they’d rather die than be locked up.

Wu Hua suddenly realized his mistake—he’d been PKing in team mode outside of quest time, and he’d struck first. No wonder he was blacklisted.

“Well, this is just great,” Wu Hua said, looking at Tuber. “I don’t know how many monsters I’ll have to kill to clear my blacklist now.”

Tuber grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover all the supplies. Just treat it as grinding.”

Qiao Qiao raised her hand. “Yeah, Madman, my bag’s the biggest. I’ll go back to town to buy supplies. Tell me what you want, but for payment, talk to Brother Tu.”

Tuber produced his crystal card with a sly smile. “A thousand credits should be enough, right?”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Wu Hua replied.

Tuber, thinking he’d been spared, quickly withdrew his hand. “Haha, good brother, you’re a true friend.”

Wu Hua waved his hand. “You misunderstood. I meant, how could you possibly think that’s enough? It’ll take at least three thousand credits. My ammo is expensive! Why don’t you help me order five thousand?”

“Huh? How much is that?”

“Not much—just over seven thousand credits.”

Tuber dropped to his knees with a thud. “Boss, have mercy! I was wrong...”