BXBX NOVEL Chapter 90: Say goodbye to your dick!
"I've seen bigger," I said arrogantly.
Since I was in {Thief}, I managed to avoid being surrounded as I piled up corpses. The bodies that littered the area slowly shrank the spaces where I could move. I had no idea how smart the giant was, but if it was smart in addition to being hard and big, it would have ranked higher.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I approached the giant while firing. My combat glide allowed me to group my shots around the undead giant's right eye.
Unexpectedly, the giant simply closed it's eyes and began to run towards me. The bullets rattled around its eyelids, but failed to penetrate. After my volley, I opened his eye without much fuss.
A little blood was all my 5.56 NATO rounds could do.
If the skin of the eyelids was that hard, then it's skin was like bulletproof armor. The monster stretched out its arm as it sent a punch at me. Thinking about what to do next, I ducked under the arm and tried to circle around it.
I could have just used {Reveal} to find out the monster's weakness. But I felt that my instincts as a fighter wouldn't grow if I relied too much on one skill. With that in mind, I turned to the giant's lower body and aimed the AR-15 at his loincloth.
"Let's see if your underwear is tougher than the Hulk or the Wolverines."
One of the most annoying leaps in fiction was indestructible shorts. Hulk and Wolverine were fictional superheroes who both had shorts that defied the laws of physics.
Hulk transforms from a normal human into a half-naked behemoth. But despite being shot, burned, and even nuked. His shorts were as indestructible as he was.
Wolverine had the same problem. With his regeneration, the man can even get burned by the sun and still survive, and his shorts are similarly immune to damage.
Wanting to prove that such logic was bullshit, I pulled the trigger and rained lead bullets into the giant's groin. Blood gushed out like a fountain as the giant stopped midcharge and roared in rage.
It immediately devoted it's two hands to cover and protect its privates. I took this moment to change mags and distanced myself from the undead.
A Bigfoot charged my right as a Chuckie jumped in front of me. Fortunately, my {Kismet} allowed me to react in the most optimal way possible.
I stabilized the AR-15's buttstock to my right shoulder and opened fire on the Bigfoot. At the same time, I extended my left hand out in front of me in an imaginary grip and summoned a weapon.
"{Draw} P30L."
With the reliable handgun, I squeezed the trigger with my off-hand and sent 9×19mm Parabellum across the Chuckie's face. Like a baseball that had been struck, the little zombie's body was sent back.
For this reason, I loaded the P30L with hollow points. If the 1911s were for offensive shooting, the P30L was my defensive gun.
Hollow points that pancaked into their targets created more stopping power. This was in complete contrast to FMJ's which pierce the target.
The difference was in what happened next. FMJs would use the rest of the momentum to rip through their target, hollow points would instead send a bigger punch and throw theirs back.
So if I was in danger of being surrounded, I used the P30L to knock the dead back, the 1911 was for when I had the leeway to just drop bodies wherever I wanted.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the giant clawing at his face with his right hand as he crumpled to his knees.
"Shit. The Rank Fs are wasting the opportunity I got."
Three more zombies charged at me from the side. I aimed both guns at the incoming group and opened fire.
The small corridor quickly shrunk as more bodies collapsed in bloody heaps. A few Chuckies jumped out of the scattered bodies, catching me off guard. I used my AR-15 as a stick and clubbed one of them to the ground.
In a feat of inhuman agility, I twisted my body to avoid the second. Unfortunately, a sharp pain came from my left calf as an unexpected little bastard took a bite while I was busy.
"AHHHH!! Get off me, you fucker!"
Despite the injury, the more I fought, the more I learned. One of those lessons was tradeoffs. I was currently in {Thief} so I could detect enemies, while detection was a good skill to have, damage mitigation was just as important.
With some flesh missing from my calf, standing normally became a challenge. Even my suit had a good part of the pants torn off.
I pistol-whipped the little kid and shot him in the cheek with the P30L. The bullet blew up the back of his skull, and the zombie was gone.
Another lesson was how to make heads explode. It turned out that where you hit was just as important as what type of ammo you used.
If you shot a head and the exit point was a thin piece of skull, the bullet would shatter the bone and come out clean. However, if the bullet hit the harder parts, such as the forehead or nose bridge, the force would disperse and shock the entire head.
Depending on the muzzle velocity and caliber, it would either lodge in the brain or explode at the base of the skull. This was why some shots explode the head while others do not.
I have about a 70% chance of exploding the skull in {Thief} or {Fighter}. During {Mage}, this rate increased to 100%.
An angry roar came at the worst possible moment. The undead giant stood up and began smashing the environment with its right hand, as if throwing a tantrum.
For obvious reasons, it kept one hand on its crotch, where it knew its dick was in a revolting state.
As amusing as it was to watch the monster protect its nearly severed appendage, I had to make a decision.
Do I keep {Thief} for detection or switch to {Fighter} to tank this bastard? An unfortunate side effect of using my classes was that I couldn't use anything but my own {Fate} and {Kismet}.
With six of my {Kismet} already filled. Only {Reveal} added any utility. {Draw} and {Sheathe} were both for weapon management. My own {Rewind}, {Reload}, and {Regen} abilities were mostly defensive in nature.
Although I could use {Rewind} offensively, as I did with the Cyclops, the limits of what I could do on my own were beginning to show.
"{Regen}. I need either new weapons, tactics, {Fate} or {Kismet}. But for your punk ass, I still have enough!"
I holstered the P30L and took a few shots at the giant with the AR-15. Unlike in {Fighter}, using {Regen} alone was painful as hell. The class had {Withstand}, {Endurance}, and {Suffer}.
So, naturally, they provided some extra defense. Liv's {Fate} didn't have any reduction in pain, but {Fighter} used {Eat} and {Digest} to reduce the hurt to some extent.
The giant advanced cautiously, blocking the gunfire with an open hand. It hunched over, shrinking the area I could aim at. However, I did not particularly need to kill it right now, a delay was all I wanted. Eventually my calf regenerated and my range of motion returned.
Sprinting like a champion runner, I lunged at the corpse while firing 5.56 rounds. When the giant saw me running toward it, the monster spread its legs and braced itself.
Unfortunately, it misunderstood the purpose of my actions. I dropped low to a slide and used the momentum to skid under its legs. I summoned the greatest firepower of my handguns and used the limited space between its legs to attack.
"{Draw} 629. Say goodbye to your dick bastard!"
With inhuman reflexes from {Thief} I aimed from right below and fanned the 629 till it ran out. The salvo that only took less than two seconds had six .44 magnum rounds completely brutalize the undead's genitals.
An inhuman growl shrouded in bloodlust echoed soon after.
Once I cleared from lower extremities of the undead, I hurriedly got back up and turned around. But before I could capitalize on the opening two more Normies came from behind.
Luckily before they could do me harm, a shadow knocked one Normie down and a flying rock took out the other. My reinforcements finally arrived.
"Hombre, you crazy bastard, did you really just shoot the zombie's dick off?"
"Forget the dick even the poor bastard's balls got smashed like eggs. John, I know you hate undead but..."
I smiled at their comments as the neuteured zombie in the background went ballistic. I turned and started to arm the two men.
"No time. Here! And this is for you! Keep them away from me."
I threw the AR15 to Mike, who had both arms, and the P30L to Santiago, who could only use one hand. They both nodded and went to work.
The Mexican, who had his knee on the neck of the struggling normie, caught the pistol and shot the zombie in the brain.
Mike, on the other hand, began shooting the zombies that were still approaching, his form showing his familiarity with rifles despite his injuries.
"{Draw} Medical bag. 1887. {Heal} tablets on bag. Move!"
I summoned the pouch near Santiago and immediately charged the giant. The undead, who seemed pissed as hell, frothed at the mouth, his eyes filled with rage.
The giant swung his arms wildly, trying to smash me. Since the lighting was poor, I couldn't switch to {Fighter}. Using my superior senses, I dodged both of its arms and shot it's nipple with an 1887 bullet.
I lunged for the giant's back as it roared in pain. The undead suddenly countered with an impromptu bodyslam which sent me flying. Before I could recover from the impact, it dashed toward me with both arms raised.
Suddenly, bullets from afar hit the giant's eye, causing it to shield its face. In that moment I stood up and charged into the gap again, stabbing the 1887 under the giant's chin.
I pulled the trigger and blew a new hole under the it's jaw. Still alive, the undead then tried to retaliate by punching me in the face.
"{FIGHTER}! {Reload}!"
Shielding my face with my left forearm and the 1887, I blocked the fucker's blow. At the same time, I aimed the 629 Contender at its left eye. A loud bang fired a .44 Magnum bullet at 1,550 ft/sec into the undead.
My revolver was loaded with 270 grain LFN GC Buffalo Bore heavy rounds, these babies were powerful enough to take down big game at 50 yards.
At close near-point blank range, even the flesh of an undead giant couldn't stop it. The round easily penetrated the undead's eye and lodged in its brain.
My adrenaline kept me squeezing the trigger until I used up all six rounds in the revolver. somewhere along the six rounds the giant no longer had the back of its skull.
[Confirming the death of the Rank E Giant].
"I'm getting too old for this shit," I complained.