The battle outside was making heaven and earth change color, the sun and moon lose light, and the fight on the Polaris was equally fierce and brutal.
The internal space of the ship was more three-dimensional, narrower, and more dangerous than the streets.
Corridors and corners were everywhere, and the longest main aisle was also no more than twenty meters straight.
Stairs up and down were everywhere, like a maze the size of a neighborhood, where enemies could emerge from all directions if the route was unknown.
Wildman pressed down the rotary machine gun under his right arm and strafed madly towards the end of the corridor, the dense barrage turning a few Italian soldiers who jumped out into mince.
Blood stained the entire corridor, and severed limbs were everywhere; no one remembered how many people had been killed along the way, and many players, having become red-eyed from killing, completely forgot what they were supposed to do.
