011. Simulator Resources: Guns

The unbearable pain seemed to awaken Vich's ferocity.

He forced his eyes open wide.

Ignoring everything, he stretched out his arm, trying to grab the submachine gun that had fallen in front of him!

But in his impulsiveness, Vich overlooked the blind spot in his vision.

A shadowy figure perched above the wooden crates suddenly leaped down!

In mid-air, a massive, pitch-black machete was forcefully swung down!

Slash—

With a faint crack and a sudden, agonizing scream,

Vich's hand, along with half his forearm, was severed from his body.

Falling into the cold embrace of the concrete floor.

Swish—

Simultaneously, the long, dark machete, guided by its wielder's wrist, turned again.

Thrusting into Vich's chest!

In the blink of an eye, Vladimir Vich was pinned to the wooden crate, lifeless.

"Hu—"

At that moment,

Zaire, wearing a red bandana and face painted with camouflage, finally exhaled in relief.

His legs weakened,

Almost causing him to collapse to the ground.

The night raid had nearly drained Zaire's strength.

Especially when he killed the other two men earlier,

His left arm had strained excessively, pulling a muscle.

He had also narrowly avoided letting them escape,

Which could have escalated into a bigger crisis.

This was why,

Zaire used the bloody scene to unsettle Vich.

To increase his psychological pressure.

Ultimately, the pressure would lead to fatal mistakes.

Otherwise, Zaire wouldn't resort to such brutal methods.

He was never a ruthless person.

With a complex look in his eyes, Zaire glanced at the dying, blood-vomiting Vich.

He shook his head slightly.

Then, Zaire tested his injured left arm and found it manageable.

Next, he began rummaging through the surrounding wooden crates.

Since he had infiltrated the warehouse,

The usually silent simulator had been sending alerts.

[Resources available nearby. Please collect promptly.]

Twenty minutes later, Zaire completed his initial search.

Most of the crates contained luxury goods smuggled to avoid taxes.

But five of the crates contained brand new firearms.

Curious, Zaire picked up a submachine gun reeking of gun oil.

Immediately, the simulator interface appeared before his eyes.

[Hazardous Material: Firearm (Reduces cooldown by one hour)]

[Absorb hazardous material?]

Zaire widened his eyes slightly.

The simulator needed firearms?

It had been over ten hours since Zaire's last simulation.

The cooldown had ended, and he could start a new simulation at any time.

Zaire chose to absorb, wanting to see what changes the simulator would undergo.

[Current cooldown reduction: One hour.]

One gun equals one hour?

Zaire's eyes lit up, and without hesitation,

He quickly absorbed all the firearms in the warehouse, even those from the dead men.

[Current cooldown reduction: Six days and five hours (149 hours).]

Staring at the final number on the simulator,

Zaire couldn't help but smile.

Based on the ratio of one hour of cooldown per day survived,

149 hours would allow for 149 days of simulation!

Nearly half a year.

Enough to significantly enhance Zaire's combat and survival abilities!

But most importantly,

There might be a shortage of many resources in America, but firearms were definitely not one of them!

"Right, I wonder if drugs count as hazardous materials?"

With a bright future ahead, Zaire suddenly remembered Vich's words.

The warehouse still held ten kilograms of white powder, waiting for Zaire to find.

But he didn't know if the simulator required such things.

Driven by motivation, Zaire seemed to forget his minor injuries.

He searched and found a black crate in the corner.

However, upon prying it open, he discovered it was empty.

"Why did I naively believe a gang leader?"

Zaire couldn't help but mock himself.

But just as he was about to turn around,

He heard a faint noise.

Thud, thud, thud!

Squinting, Zaire suddenly lifted his leg, mustered his strength, and kicked the black crate beside him!

Boom!

The crate toppled over,

Revealing a hidden trapdoor to a basement!

Zaire's expression turned serious as he listened intently.

Thud, thud, thud!

Sure enough, faint knocking sounds were coming from the basement!

Hostages? Animal smuggling?

Zaire couldn't determine immediately and decided to open it and see.

He took a deep breath and gripped the handle on the trapdoor tightly with his right hand!

Clang, clang—

Accompanied by the metallic creak of hinges,

A suffocating stench of waste wafted up!

However, when the warehouse lights shone into the basement,

Zaire's eyes widened in an instant.

He stood still, staring at the scene below in silence.

It was full of children.

Children of various skin colors.

Children around seven or eight years old, with blank expressions!

Most of them wore tattered clothes, with prominent tear streaks on their small faces.

The opening of the trapdoor and the sudden light seemed to shatter the despair among the children.

Pairs of fearful, bewildered, or sad eyes,

All turned to Zaire!

Moments later, Zaire, with his face painted in black and green camouflage,

Suddenly broke into a radiant smile.

"You're all saved!"

"Don't be afraid, Uncle Red Bandana is here to rescue you!"

At that moment, a child clutching half a stone cautiously asked:

"Hello, are we saved?"

Zaire turned toward the voice,

Noticing a pretty little girl with sparkling eyes.

Zaire took a deep breath, suppressing the anger rising within him again.

He smiled and nodded, saying:

"Yes, you are free… The bad guys outside were taken care of by Uncle Red Bandana!"

"If you're not afraid, come out and see… The bad guys who bullied you have even lost their heads!"

Perhaps Zaire's words brought some comfort.

Or perhaps the children finally grasped the situation.

Either way, the group of children, like wind-up toys,

Scrambled up with all their might!

In an instant,

Zaire found himself surrounded by a swarm of little imps no taller than a few feet.

Their excited chatter filled the air,

As their tiny, dirty hands tugged at Zaire's clothes and pants.

At that moment,

Even the usually composed Zaire couldn't help but feel a headache coming on.

This wouldn't do.

He still needed to clean up the murder scene and minimize any traces left behind.

But… what should he do with the children?

Bake them and gain their protein?

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