The group quickly navigated the narrow pipe, and the view suddenly opened up, revealing a nauseating sight.
A sewer filled with rotting trash lay before them. Murky, blackened wastewater churned, sending a wave of pungent decay and fishy stench toward them. Several unidentifiable masses floated on the surface, bobbing up and down with the current.
"The path to the gate controls is down there, which ans... soone has to go in." Ada looked at the filth-ridden sewer, her gaze drifting purposefully between Lear and Leon.
Leon gave a fearless nod and took the lead, jumping down and wading downstream through the wastewater.
Watching Leon's decisive action, a faint smile played on Ada's lips as she offered a soft word of praise. "Officer Leon is quite the tough guy~"
With that, she turned to Lear and arched an eyebrow, her eyes clearly demanding: Aren't you going down?
Lear's mouth twitched involuntarily. He was genuinely repulsed; he had no desire to cover himself in such disgusting filth.
He instinctively turned toward Claire and Alyssa, his eyes pleading for a bit of support to help him get out of it. However, both seed to have suddenly found themselves very busy, simultaneously avoiding Lear's eyes.
Alyssa kept her head down, intently fiddling with her cara as if the images in her lens were more important than their current situation. Claire simply started whistling, turning her head to stare at the pipe they had just crawled out of, acting as if she were terrified that sothing might be chasing them.
Seeing this reaction, Lear knew there was no way out of getting into the water.
"Fine, I'm going." Lear shrugged helplessly and, resigned to his fate, turned and plunged into the foul water.
The mont he entered the wastewater, a stench surged straight to his brain, followed by a slimy sensation that enveloped his body. He even saw a dark, clumped object float past his face.
Suppressing his disgust, Lear hurried to catch up to Leon. Leon wasn't moving very fast through the muck, and Lear reached him in just a few steps. He was actually quite curious—this sensation was so vile even Lear could hardly stand it; did Leon really feel no disgust at all?
With that question in mind, Lear purposely glanced at Leon's expression. What he saw nearly made him laugh. Leon's entire face was turning blue from holding it in; his lips were pressed tightly together as he struggled with all his might to hold his breath. Every step he took looked incredibly difficult, and his forced composure was nothing short of pathetic.
Seeing the two of them like this, Alyssa and Ada remained composed, but Claire was more soft-hearted. Watching their struggle, she was just about to say sothing when her gaze swept across the distant tunnel. Her expression changed instantly—an enormous monster was charging toward them at high speed!
The three still in the pipe paled. Claire imdiately strained her voice, screaming at the two in the water: "Leon! Lear! Look out!!!"
Actually, Claire's warning wasn't even necessary. From the mont the water's surface began to vibrate violently, Lear had already sensed the danger. Without even looking back, he knew the Alligator had caught up to them. Leon hadn't reacted yet, instinctively moving to look back and see what was happening. Lear, quick-witted and agile, grabbed his arm and dragged him forward.
"Boss... cough cough... what's going on..." Leon stamred, caught off guard as he was pulled into a run. In his haste, he opened his mouth, and the stench that instantly rushed into his nostrils hit him like a physical blow. Poor Leon nearly gagged on the spot, forced to follow as Lear hauled him through the water.
The two sprinted forward with everything they had. Lear led Leon in a frantic zigzag, constantly shifting their direction. By now, Leon understood exactly what was chasing them—after all, when a mouth larger than the front of a bus passes right by you, it's hard to mistake it for anything else.
They ran through the murky sewage for what felt like forever until the sounds of pursuit behind them began to fade. Just as Lear thought they had lost the Alligator and prepared to slow down to catch his breath, he stole a glance back. He saw a pair of massive, pale yellow eyes. Sohow, the giant Alligator had found a way to silence its approach; it was now less than ten ters away, jaws agape and ready to tear them apart.
There was no ti to worry about how filthy the water was. Lear grabbed Leon and they threw themselves into a roll, sliding underneath a horizontal pipe.
Clang!
The Alligator's long-telegraphed bite slamd hard into the pipe. The solid tal duct instantly buckled and twisted under the pressure, but the force of the strike caused the creature's massive fra to beco wedged against the pipe, leaving it montarily pinned.
Seizing this fleeting window, Leon imdiately drew his handgun and fired wildly at the Alligator. But when the bullets struck the creature's thick, coarse hide, they sounded like they were hitting solid steel, letting out sharp, tallic pings. Seeing this, Lear couldn't help but frown.
According to the original story, Leon was supposed to toss a grenade into the creature's mouth and blow the thing to pieces. But now, all the grenades had been distributed to the elite officers during the evacuation. Leon had no stock left from the Police Station, and he couldn't just craft a grenade out of scrap tal like in a video ga. Finding a grenade in the sewer was even more impossible. The situation had beco incredibly awkward.
Just as Lear and Leon were at their wits' end facing the Alligator, a tall figure leaped down from the ceiling of the sewer. It slamd directly onto the Alligator's head, sinking two sets of sharp claws deep into the creature's eyes.
"ROAR—!"
Wracked with pain, the Alligator thrashed its body violently, trying to shake the figure off. However, the shadow clung stubbornly to the creature's head, its claws repeatedly and manically stabbing into the Alligator's eye sockets.
"Friday!"
Lear was stunned to see the figure. It turned out Friday had been following them all along, clinging to the protruding stones on the sewer ceiling like a monkey, which was why Lear hadn't noticed him earlier.
Seeing Lear in danger, Friday had been frantic, but he hadn't rushed into an attack. He knew that if he simply charged down, he would be no match for the Alligator and would rely be providing the beast with an extra al. So, he had remained suspended behind them, hiding directly above the Alligator's head.
Watching Friday being tossed side to side on the creature's back, Lear broke into a cold sweat. His own body was currently in a state of extre exhaustion; the imnse strength and speed he usually possessed were at less than ten percent, leaving him powerlessly anxious.
Hearing Lear's call seed to embolden Friday. Gritting his teeth, he jerked his claws upward with a violent surge. The excruciating pain forced the Alligator to unthinkingly throw its massive jaws wide again. Before it could take another step, Leon's gaze suddenly turned fierce, and he charged straight toward the creature's gaping maw!
He rushed right up to the beast and, without hesitation, drew his shotgun. Aiming at the Alligator's upper palate, he pulled the trigger. A dense cloud of buckshot erupted instantly, shredding the roof of its mouth. The agonizing pain turned the Alligator's thrashing into a frenzy, and Friday was finally thrown off.
Enduring the searing pain, the Alligator used its mangled snout to snap viciously at Leon. It moved so fast that Leon had no ti to react as the cavernous mouth closed in. At the critical mont, Lear surged forward from behind, shoving Leon out of the way while simultaneously twisting his own body to dodge the bite.
"Boss!" Leon stumbled from the shove. He spun around to look at Lear and let out a startled cry. There stood Lear, having sohow scavenged a thick iron bar about the length of a man's arm. With a piercing gaze, he gripped the bar and lunged, stabbing it with all his might into the Alligator's wounded eye!
The Alligator, already blinded by Friday and unable to stop its forward montum from the lunge, could only watch as it slamd headlong into the iron bar.
The bar buried itself up to the hilt in the creature's eye, piercing straight into its brain. The intense pain sent the Alligator into a desperate death roll, but the more it rolled, the more the iron bar churned inside its skull. Its brain tissue was quickly reduced to a pulp.
As ti ticked by, the Alligator's struggles grew weaker. The churning sewage gradually grew still until the Alligator finally stopped moving altogether.
(Translated by yourtl.app)
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