YM778.TV Chapter 737
The moment I finished my sentence, Annie just looked at me with a slight tinge of unwillingness before she stopped herself from giving me ‘advice’. Her eyes then showed a mix of sadness and bitterness and she just sighed heavily before turning around and trying to make their way back.
However, she stopped after a few or so steps then she turned back to me and looked me in the eyes.
“P-Please… do think about what I just said… It’s really important to me…”
“Sure… depends…” I half-heartedly said after I lightly sighed.
“…”
“…”
At this point, the two of us just momentarily exchanged glances before we used the time remaining from the break.
As it went on, more food, beverages, and ‘services’ were sold or rendered though some were trying to figure out the next game from the things being built up in the play area. However, I couldn’t help but notice that almost everyone behind me—the people from Quinn’s group—have completely stopped giving snarky comments towards me and my group— even towards the twins, and it wasn’t because I saved one of their own.
Saving one of them earned me their respect but the method I used to achieve it earned me something else.
No one was actively showing it but each time I tried to move my hands, the ones close to me would flinch or get stunned in place— unsure of what to do. Furthermore, I noticed how they tried to properly carry themselves around me but it was a hilarious sight.
‘They thought I gouge eyes out on a daily basis but fuck it, I’ll enjoy the street cred for as long as it would last.’
It didn’t take long before some of them tried to get into my good side.
“S-Sir… can I offer you some beer?”
“I’m fine for now, thanks.”
“S-Sir… can we offer you some tacos? It’s freshly made?”
“I’m fine—”
“How about a burrito, sir?”
“I—”
“Some Jimmy’s Cervezas?”
“My girl?”
“Hah?”
“She gives good head—”
“How about some burgers, sir?”
“How about a massage, sir?”
“How about a car wash, sir?”
“How about some tuning, sir?”
“Do you need some oil change, sir?”
“How about a conversion?”
“Do you need some brake fluid?”
“I got a new set of wrenches here so—”
I casually waved them off, “Guys, stop. I’m fine, okay?”
“…!”
“…!”
“…!”
“Ah… I’m really fine…”
“…”
I didn’t think they’d flinch after that casual wave but I was trying my best to appear harmless and approachable.
But at this point, it had never been so quiet as they just stared at me in silence but I couldn’t believe that I’d prefer their nagging over the rest of the girls leering at me with a specific activity in mind.
It was because Kaley and I did a little something on the porta-potties so the rest of them wanted a quick one as well.
Cynthia and the twins were the ones that couldn’t hide it as much and I’m sure they’d cream from the simplest touch. However, I still needed a short break from trying to endure the pain of getting electrocuted and having a match with someone that gouges eyes out for fun.
With that said, I simply enjoyed the refreshments handed to me as the play area was finally set.
The host for this game wasn’t hadn’t even come out yet but everyone’s eyes were locked onto the shipping containers that were placed by the entrance.
The entrance allowed two shipping containers to be placed side by side but four more shipping containers were stacked on each of them— making it a total of ten shipping containers filled with deadheads.
However, another ten were placed right behind them, making it a grand total of twenty shipping containers filled with god knows how many biters. They were separated by an extended door but once the crew above them pulled it out, there was a short commotion before it kinda died down.
Well, we weren’t exactly sure that they contained just regular deadheads but from the constant banging and dull thuds coming from them, I guess it would be safe to assume our little theory.
‘We gotta bring ‘them’ out now… I wonder what the other families’ have on their end?’
With that said, it’s just that there was a huge-ass vault right by the stage, and from the looks of it, it did more than just get pulled by two Chargers in a certain movie franchise that got a little out of hand.
The vault was almost the same size but the number of dents, scratches, and bullet holes it sustained was enough for me to speculate it was hiding a secret. However, compared to the shipping containers stacked on top of one another, this vault was nary making a sound.
It was just sitting there like it was taking a small nap but nobody in this place thought it was there just for decoration.
‘It’s gotta be something…’
After a few more minutes of checking the play area, no sort of announcer or host took to the stage but the huge screen just behind it displayed words large enough for everybody to see:
[Hello everyone.]
After that short message, each letter was deleted one by one and the next set of words was typed in one by one as well.
[The host for the fourth game has gone missing but the show must go on.]
[Before I explain the rules for this game, I require two participants from each team— but to increase their chances of survival, I require them to bring some sort of protection from the biters— but to ensure the safety of the ones on the viewing platforms, firearms are prohibited.]
[Yes, this game wouldn’t be like the first three and the chances of death are high—if you’re a weak-ass punk who only killed four biters in his fucking miserable life—]
At this moment, the typing stopped and the last part of the message was deleted before it continued.
[Yes, this game wouldn’t be like the first three and the chances of death are high so if you want the team members you sent out to come back, send your best ones out there. Equip them with the best equipment you got and anything goes as long as they send out projectiles that could harm the crowd.]
[And these are the rules:]
[All of the players will start at the outer ring— the opposite side of where the shipping containers are, and the moment I give the signal, it will be a race to whoever manages to get to the vault and open it.]
[What’s in the vault(box), might you ask?]
[It could be anything.]
[Just make sure to put whatever you find on the podium—that will be sent up the moment the game starts—and the pair that manages to do it wins.]
[Simple enough?]
[Right. It’s already obvious as to what is inside those shipping containers so I’ll give five minutes for each group to get ready and then we’ll start.]
[5:00]
[4:59]
[4:58]
‘Wait…’
[4:57]
‘That’s it?’
[4:56]
‘Where the fuck do we get the code for the vault?’
At this point, I was still confused by the lack of direction from the fourth game but I noticed that everyone in my group was either staring at me by turning their heads or leaning forward to get a good look.
I chuckled as I shook my head, “Alright, alright… I’ll go with the fucking normie, Mik—”
Tatiana cut me off, “No, you’re not. I’m going.”
Mikhail tried to interject, “But—”
“I’m going. I don’t care who I’m with but I’m going.”
“Tatiana—”
“Come on! I’m sitting on my butt here for two games already! I gotta burn off the food I ate! What’s even the problem?!”
“Well… Hmm. There’s no problem, fuck it. Use your axe though.”
“Wha— Why?! It’s a fucking bitch to clean! Can I just use my—”
“YOU DON’T EVEN CLEAN IT! YOU JUST LEAVE IT OUTSIDE AND WAIT FOR ME TO SEE IT!”
“Ah, right. I’ll use it then!”
“…”
At this point, I felt like banging my head into a wall as Tatiana fetched her own version of our axes that could rapidly inject gas or co2 into its target, but Kaley had already pulled out my wakizashi and handed it over to me, handle first.
“Use that too or I’ll melt it in a vat of acid,” Kaley said menacingly as she stared at me dead in the eyes.
“Ahaha… Sure, sure…”
“Mm-Hmm.”
“I doubt I’ll get to use it but—”
“No buts, take it.”
“R-Right…”
As I was fastening my wakizashi to my belt with my katana, a glint of metal caught my eye and I saw Quinn donning a pair of gloves that looked like a mix of the Atlas Gauntlets and the Fist of Tebigong.
They reached past her elbow and the only thing I could describe it right now was it was cool as fuck.
It had several mechanical parts to support hand and finger movement besides the obvious protection it could provide— but my eyes got glued to the long metal case that was brought up to her.
‘If she pulls out that hammer, I’m gonna fucking shit myself.’
Well, let’s just say that my pants wouldn’t be brown this time because she actually pulled out a halberd/poleaxe variant that was a foot taller than her that had an axe, hammer, and spear sides on one end while having a blunt counterweight on one end.
And her partner had a simple crowbar.
‘…’