941: 320.
Ellen’s “Family Gathering 941: 320.
Ellen’s “Family Gathering “Fuck, I knew sothing was definitely going to go wrong!
Avalon’s Boss was right about my danger intuition—it’s real!
This city is indeed problematic!
Big problems!”
The green “Civil Aviation” Gargoyle had already taken off urgently.
As Yan Song nervously piloted the Gargoyle around the ruins of West Coker City, where the plague lingered, diving towards Bank Street, Old Qu, beside him, kept complaining:
“They shouldn’t have been allowed in there in the first place!”
“What’s the point of saying that now?
Draw your gun and load the buckshot!
Do your anti-air job!
There’s a group of carrion birds ahead, don’t let them get close.
Our current speed makes this rescue mission extrely dangerous—if we collide, we’re going down.
There are no parachutes here!
Fuck!
Why hasn’t any player thought to make a parachute?
At least consider those poor souls who don’t plan on class-changing to vampires but still want to fly!”
Yan Song’s real-world job ensured that he had a true heart of steel, becoming more composed and unflappable as the situation grew tenser.
While maintaining the Reconnaissance Magic’s bird’s-eye view to reduce pressure with his trash talk, he manipulated the Gargoyle’s flight trajectory and even shouted commands at the panicked Old Qu.
With his multitasking, Old Qu also ca to his senses.
Crouching on the broad back of the Gargoyle, he drew his hunting gun and aid.
Bang, bang, bang—three shots shattered the undead carrion birds coming from the flank.
However, this precise killing did nothing to alleviate the dire situation at hand.
Who knows what Stick Brother and ow Brother encountered in the Vault beneath the bank.
The entire stretch of Bank Street, calm just monts ago, was now “boisterous and bubbling” to life.
Hordes of pestilence-ridden Skeleton Warriors burst out from the rubble, enclosing the bank’s vicinity.
Agile Ghouls were howling as they charged into the ruins.
The skies were dotted with the cold winds of the undead: the half-undead carrion bird flocks were wailing from all directions, making Yan Song’s aerial maneuvering extraordinarily difficult.
It was only because this guy was a forr pilot capable of subtle angle adjustnts at high speed that they weren’t already plunged into the undead birds, which would have resulted in “total annihilation of man and machine.”
Brother Qu was killing the approaching carrion birds with all his might, but by the ti the two of them arrived above Bank Street, the dark, dense flocks of birds in the sky still annoyed them imnsely.
“Close your eyes!”
Yan Song shouted through clenched teeth, pulling out a short wand his Teacher Helu had given him for self-defense and raising it high.
Obediently, Brother Qu covered his eyes, and the next mont, as Yan Song bellowed out the rhythmic, mysterious incantations, the Sun Energy Art System activated.
A condensed Sun Energy stone transford blinding light into a bomb that detonated above the Gargoyle, like a flashbang ten tis brighter, lighting up half the sky and driving away the approaching half-undead carrion birds.
The dozens of carrion birds, cleansed and burned by the flas, fell towards the ground with smoky trails, giving the two on the Gargoyle a brief respite.
“That thing is fucking aweso, do it again, quick!”
Brother Qu shouted loudly, to which Yan Song imdiately retorted:
“Do what?
There’s none left!
That thing’s a one-ti use, and that stingy Teacher Helu doesn’t have many good items.
Contact them to break out now!
We leave imdiately!
This number of undead beneath us makes any thoughts of fighting back pointless; even if we multiplied the current players by ten and dropped them here, we wouldn’t get out.”
“ow Brother!
Still alive?
Make a sound!
We’re already above the bank, hurry up and co out!”
Old Qu shouted at ow Brother, clutching the Calculating Pearl.
After no response for several seconds, just when he feared ow Brother might have kicked it, a huge explosion suddenly erupted from the ruins below.
Suddenly, Molotov cocktails ignited a small collapsed area, and several brothers, still alive though in rough shape, made their escape amid the flas.
Surrounded by layers of Undead, they could only fend them off with their weapons and Molotov cocktails.
Seeing this, Yan Song imdiately took the perilous action of a low-altitude skim.
On his first pass above the group, he quickly pulled the agile ow Brother and Little Hand onto the Gargoyle’s back.
Then, circling in the sky, he swooped down again with a howl.
After three such trips, they managed to rescue the remaining people from the sea of undead.
But, due to the Gargoyle’s limited carrying capacity, the last three people they saved were “hanging” from the Gargoyle’s claws, struggling to ascend.
From a distance, they looked like a bunch of grapes, strung along one after another.
“Bang”
ow Brother, covered in dirt and gri, raised his fist and knocked a Skeleton Warrior perched on the Gargoyle’s tail flying down, watching it flail as it descended into the howling sea of undead below.
It was only after performing this classic “Westerburg Iron Fist” survival maneuver that ow Brother finally let out a sigh of relief.
He sat on the Gargoyle’s back, breathing heavily, and said to Yan Song who was struggling to climb higher in the air:
“Thanks, bro, bringing you in was the best decision I made this year.”
“More than thirty of you entered!
And this is all that’s left?”
Old Qu counted the heads, and including the three hanging from the Gargoyle’s claws, only seven survived.
But the good news was that all five mbers of the Big Bird Team were exhausted but alive.
“Don’t fucking ntion it!
There was a super-powerful Undead guardian in that vault, and I reckon it was at least of the Silver Grade.
With our current job strengths, there’s no hope of defeating it.”
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