Chapter 121 - Chapter 117: Justified Or Not

The snap of Tyson's grafted Goliath-Plate arm grinding against the synthetic marble cracked through the dead air of the Tactical Suite. Vance pulled wet, rhythmic wheezes through his ruined lungs. Jaundiced bioluminescence pulsed through the dead monitor screens and reflected off the dark pool spreading across the glass desk. The LitRPG UI was gone—no health bars, no mana pools, nothing. Just a sterile office and whatever their bodies could still do.