In the tunnel, people shifted from foot to foot, some timidly trying to get closer.
Rumors of a merchant who had opened a distillery in the Underhive with mountains of food and drink were driving them mad.
The entire lives of these rats revolved around manure. To eat their fill, and to get drunk – that was almost the pinnacle of their dreams.
And to break in and loot – that meant fulfilling it to the end.
These outcasts seemed to have a collective hive mind – as soon as a rumor spread, they flocked in a crowd.
In one night, over a thousand people had gathered around the distillery.
The larger the crowd became, the bolder they felt. Some were already fiddling with explosives and fuel, ready to break down the wall.
But they didn't have time – a monstrous roar erupted, and a tongue of flame several meters long shot out from the wall!
DA-DA-DA-DA-DA!!
The roar of the heavy stubber, echoing off the stone walls, tore at eardrums.
Large-caliber bullets sowed death. Each pierced seven to eight bodies, turning people into bloody mist and splattering the ceiling with scraps!
Li Qingyu gripped the handles, pressing the trigger all the way down. The recoil hit fiercely, but the massive mount almost completely dampened it.
All that remained was to sweep the barrel, drenching everything in front with lead.
From the wall to the turn – four hundred meters of straight tunnel.
A thousand rats, crammed into a stone bag without cover, under the fire of a twenty-millimeter machine gun!
It was a slaughter.
There was no need to aim – the bullets simply flew forward and found flesh, tearing it to shreds.
DA-DA-DA-DA!!
The 75-round belt was gone in an instant. Without looking, Li Qingyu yelled:
"Reload!!"
He jumped back from the machine gun, ripped the lasgun off his back, ran to the second embrasure, and, without aiming, squeezed the trigger.
The lasgun fired at minimum power, the air crackled with ions.
The tunnel was illuminated by frequent red flashes – beams of death flew one after another.
A hit to the chest caused a micro-explosion.
Without armor, the chest cavity simply exploded.
Even if the target had armor, the explosion tore off the plating, and the residual flame burned the organs – there was no chance of survival.
Li Qingyu drained the battery with one press, firing over two hundred pulses. The barrel hissed and smoked.
He threw the overheated lasgun to the floor and looked at Joel.
He had already inserted a new belt. Li Qingyu leaned back on the stubber and opened fire again.
While the second wave of lead was pouring here, the machine gun on the other flank also started talking.
Knife was holding the defense there. Hearing the gunfire near the boss, he didn't wait for an invitation – he opened return fire.
The deafening bass of the heavy stubber was joined by the crackle of hand-held machine guns – Key Sr. and Key Jr. joined in.
The cannonade lasted three, maybe four minutes. Li Qingyu burned through three belts and four batteries.
Everything was obscured by dust from the explosions. Visibility – zero.
The air was saturated with a heavy mixture of gunpowder, blood, burnt flesh, and feces.
When the dust settled a little, Li Qingyu turned on a powerful flashlight. The sight made him whistle.
The rat crowd had been ground to a pulp. Those who were closer were simply erased by the stubber, their guts smeared on the ceiling and pipes!
In a confined space without cover, numbers meant nothing – it was a slaughter line.
The power of a heavy stubber was such that one bullet could tear apart ten. Even a Space Marine would have a hard time.
A carpet of mangled bodies began about fifty meters from the wall and stretched three hundred meters deep.
The ones in the back managed to escape like madmen, but Li Qingyu's insane firing left over three hundred corpses.
He opened the System, checked his weapon proficiency – 150!
He whistled: excellent farming!
Proficiency 150 – master level, available only to veterans. The feel of the weapon had become almost instinctual.
True, it no longer grew linearly – the higher the level, the harder the path.
But Li Qingyu was satisfied. With such skill, he was ready for anything.
Groans came from the tunnel – someone had survived.
A thought crept into his mind. He turned to Joel:
"Gather all the fighters. Let them take their weapons and finish off the wounded."
Joel nodded. Soon, all who could be called soldiers lined up at the gates – in armor and masks from Li Qingyu, with autoguns in their hands.
When the slaughter began, they stood by the exits according to instructions – the machine guns had done all the work. Now it was their turn.
When the squad lined up, Li Qingyu threw open the gates and stepped into the bloody mess.
Pointing to a rat with broken legs, howling in pain, he ordered:
"Forward. Finish them."
The fighters exchanged glances.
Most of them were former workers, killing was new to them. The order to finish off the unarmed froze many.
Little Joel frowned:
"The commander's order is law! I've taught you this a hundred times. Or badly?"
One of the fighters, after hesitating, stepped forward, raised his barrel, and squeezed the trigger.
DA-DA-DA!!
The wounded man twitched and fell silent. The shooter's face turned pale, he vomited.
Li Qingyu pointed at him:
"Record his gratitude. Give him a can of preserved food. When we expand, he'll be the first to get a promotion!"
Hearing this, the others livened up. Fear gave way to greed. They moved forward, finishing off the survivors – short bursts of fire echoed dully in the tunnel.