Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry.

The firepower of the shooting finally ended. Those believers could no longer support such shooting. They could only watch the dust and mist stirred up by the bullet rain slowly dissipate, and once again saw the not-dead flea.

The No. 0 coat had been torn, revealing the ceramic lining and the protective clothing under the coat.

He clenched his hands into tight fists, raised them to the height of his forehead and slowly opened his palms.

A large number of bullets fell from his hands, making a beautiful and crisp sound as they collided on the ground. His black abrasion-resistant and corrosion-resistant gloves looked badly worn.

The heat and kinetic energy from those bullets rubbed against the gloves, leaving searing scratches on them.

No. 0 squeezed his hands and found that his gloves were a little sticky from the hot bullets, and then continued to charge forward.

The cultists, whose figures were covered by their human skin robes, shouted at the guys to continue firing. They had not completed their mission and were not allowed to stop like this.

Production must be guaranteed! The factory's furnace requires these minerals! If they can't do it, their souls will really be locked by adults! He doesn't want to end up like this!

"You losers! Fire! Keep firing! Who allowed you to stop!"

"Sir... I can't help it anymore. It's been drained... There really isn't even a drop left."

A shriveled cultist who stopped shooting was so weak that he could no longer support the mechanical structure in his body. He knelt on the ground, and the heavy machinery began to fall off from the package of his flesh and bones.

"Trash! Trash!"

The angry manager suddenly swelled, and his human skin robe floated from his body as if alive, swallowing the other weak believers into his body like the dough covering the meat inside.

"The empire's lackey! See the true power! My body is the crystallization of the technology given to me by your master!"

"Attack that thing! It looks like an enemy commander!"

The grenadiers also noticed something was wrong with this guy who was wearing a robe and not joining the battle. The hell guns in their hands were aimed at the figure that was still expanding and deforming.

The human skin robe was quickly burned away, and the part that didn't turn into ashes turned into a smelly greasy substance that stuck to the body of the cult leader and burned.

"Ah! Haha! Die! Imperial lackey!"

The cult leader was larger than his subordinates, but the flesh and blood on his body was not bright red, but tinged with steel, making him look lifeless.

The thing's torso transformed into a bunker-like thing, supported by pale bones, with barrels and various cutting weapons sticking out.

The limbs were broken and stuck together. A joint formed at the knee and elbow and extended to the entire limb.

"This thing looks like a Leman Russ tank stacked with meat..."

Grenadier 19 felt that this thing simply desecrated his memory of Legion tanks.

The laser irradiated the steel-like flesh and blood that was not completely covered by the bones. The flesh and blood was not vaporized, but was burned out with small pits and flames.

Not as tough as the Leman Russ tank...but still needs heavy firepower...I should carry a melta grenade so that I won't be so passive.

Grenadier 19 felt guilty for his lack of consideration, but he felt that he was not to blame. After all, if it hadn't been for No. 0, he would have redeemed himself long ago instead of still being alive today.

"Haha, lackeys! Die!"

The cultist captain, who turned into a flesh and blood tank, aimed the secondary weapons on both sides at No. 0, who was rushing over.

"Can't you block it! Can't you hide it! Try hiding from me again! I have accumulated highly compressed biogas for several months! I will use you as barbecue material today!"

There were things like intestines hanging under the muzzles of the guns, and they sprayed a cloud of gas at No. 0, which was then ignited by sparks. The fierce flames were about to drown No. 0, even Grenadier 19 standing far away. They all felt the heat.

This coat could not withstand such a flame. Grenadier 19 felt that his burned skin would stick to the coat. Even the quartermaster might not recycle that kind of thing.

So what will No. 0 do? He was becoming more and more curious about this magical boy.

Facing the terrifying flames, No. 0 did not choose to rush forward directly. Instead, he bent down and inserted his hands into the ground.

It didn't look like a very hard knock, but it created a square crack. No. 0 put his hand into the crack and exerted force. A stone wall was erected in front of him.

With one foot exerting force, the stone slab flew out, forcing the flames to spread along the surface of the stone slab and fly towards the tank.

"what!?"

The cult leader who turned into a tank was obviously surprised by the stone slab that suddenly flew over. He controlled the artillery to smash the stone slab, and then saw No. 0 jumping over from behind.

"So close! There's no reason why we can't hit him! Die!"

Quickly turning around all the flesh and blood on its body and the mechanical structures adhering to it, this flesh and blood tank exploded with a loading speed that was impossible for an imperial tank. The cannon that had just penetrated the stone slab fired a new shell again.

The cannonballs carrying blasphemous power were drawn from the barrel, and the cult leader felt that his perception of the surroundings had slowed down. He could clearly see the shadow of the cannon's discharge and a circle of smoke behind it.

This shell will definitely hit. He has already seen that No. 0's hand has been attached to the shell, and he has seen the fragments of his gloves rubbed off by the shell.

Very good! Fantastic! Next comes flesh and blood! It was a blast! It’s just meat residue splashed on the ground!

Production can be guaranteed! Just catch some unlucky ones from the labor camp, throw them into the furnace, and you will have new subordinates! Nothing is difficult!

etc! What about the shells? Why was it only his gloves that were torn, and where did the cannonball go?

The cult leader realized from his fantasy that the cannonball he had high hopes for failed to blow up the No. 0 in front of him as he wished. Instead, it was deflected by his hand.

The only cost is that the black gloves are completely unusable.

The captain stared intently at the palms under the gloves. The man's hands did not have too many scars or calluses. They looked like the heirs of nobles who had never worked.

Didn't even scratch the skin? Why? why is that?

No one came to answer the question of the guy who turned into a tank, because No. 0 had already put his hand at the junction of his turret and body, and forcefully opened his turret-that is, his head.

The captain's vision was spinning. He looked at No. 0 tearing open the tank he had created like opening a can, and he felt a little funny.

What nonsense...

The light of the observation mirror disappeared, and his soul also disappeared. The flesh and blood tank fell into chaos and confusion, and that thing couldn't even attack No. 0 on him.

All the enemies were dead, and the area fell into silence, with only the sound of hot flesh bubbling.

The grenadiers regrouped and counted the number of people and losses. Their team destroyed 50 things similar to chaos eggs, but only two people died. Now they plus No. 0 still have 6 soldiers, which is really bad news. .

Grenadier 19 silently stripped off the equipment from the dead soldier, dismantling his heavy armor and the energy battery hell gun behind him.

"These equipment?"

He looked at No. 0 walking over and pointed at the equipment on the ground. He also noticed that the gloves of No. 0 were completely unusable, so he simply took off the gloves of the fallen soldier.

No. 0 took the glove and squatted next to Grenadier 19. And picked up the shovel, "How about making him a grave?"

"grave?"

"You know, you have to keep it in mind, right?"

Grenadier 19 looked at him doubtfully. He had heard of such things as graves, but he had also seen them.

A tomb belonging to a Krieg? Cut off a piece of the finger and put it in the box.

"I didn't bring an ossuary."

"We can dig one out, you... I mean we need a rest."

"We don't need a break."

"Yes, I know you need it."

Grenadier 19 looked at No. 0, and they just stared at each other silently, neither of them giving in.

Sighing, Grenadier 19 asked No. 0, "How many nearest enemies are there?"

No. 0 shrugged, indicating that he really couldn't see any enemies around him.

"We can blow up that insect-looking machine that mines, if you think it's an enemy."

"Ah..."

Taking a breath from his throat, Grenadier 19 laughed. No. 0 didn't understand why he was laughing. No, he didn't even realize that Grenadier 19 was laughing.

"Then dig a grave."

Grenadier 19 stood up, he thought of something.

"I said...did you catch all those bullets?"

"Yeah, it's a little hot, but it's okay."

Not knowing what to say, the grenadiers began to dig holes for the two of them on the ground, "That stone slab...how did you lift it up?"

"Oh, well, if that place can do this, you can do it too."

"Oh?"

Grenadier 19 put the body of his teammate into the pit and buried it. He looked at No. 0 in confusion, but he didn't know that they could do this kind of thing.

"follow me."

No. 0 looked like he was willing to teach others. He led the grenadiers to look for something. Then he squatted on the ground and tapped the ground with his hand, making a hollow sound.

"You try too."

Grenadier 19 also squatted down and knocked tentatively.

"Harder now."

He punched without using much force. He didn't even feel the pain in his hand bones. He saw the ground in front of him cracked with square lines, exactly the same as those made by No. 0.

He opened the stone slab and kicked it up. The stone slab slid a few meters and then fell. This was indeed easier than Grenadier 19 thought.

"How do you know? Are you a local?"

"No, I can just see some red lines."

Demons and a ship without Geller's stance: Ork ships and demons without Geller's stance