Cultivation Chronicles in the Marvel Universe

Chapter 35: Recruiting Blood Shadow

Views:

The Soviet-made 2S4 240mm gun is the largest mortar in modern times.

Its barrel length is 3340 mm (22.25 times the caliber).

It can fire mortar shells with conventional charges, such as 53-F-864 high-explosive fragmentation mortar shells, 3F2 rocket-assisted high-explosive fragmentation mortar shells, 3VO11 mine-laying shells and "Brave" M guided mortar shells.

It can also launch 3VB4 nuclear mortar shells with an explosive equivalent of 2,000 tons of TNT and 3VB11 rocket-extended nuclear mortar shells.

The maximum range of the extended-range nuclear shells is 20 kilometers. The excellent indirect firepower of the mortar has considerable lethality to the enemy on the reverse slope.

It uses a magazine to supply ammunition (each magazine has 20 rounds) and is equipped with a simple loading machine, but due to the heavy shells, the firing rate can only reach one round per minute, and it takes 10 minutes to prepare for shooting. When firing ordinary grenades, the maximum range is 9.65 kilometers.

This heavy artillery, which was equipped to a Soviet mechanic during the Cold War, roared for the first time on the federal mainland in a way that no one expected.

Due to transportation reasons, the giant cannon that Tang Song had people transport from the Russian Far East was a castrated version, with only the gun body and no matching tracked vehicle.

As for tactical nuclear artillery shells, they were transferred away with an order from an unknown big shot in the Soviet Army Logistics Department during the Cold War.

The largest mortar in history now uses conventional shells loaded with 130 kilograms of high explosives.

Although it is a conventional artillery shell, one shell can easily destroy a five-story concrete building.

In half an hour, under the operation of twelve Russian gunners, two Tulip heavy artillery fired six shells.

The earth roared, and the entire beach seemed to have been plowed by a wild bull.

Smoke and dust rose up, forming a small mushroom cloud in the distance.

The sound of waves rolled on the sea. At a naval outpost six nautical miles away, several federal navy officers listened to the rumbling of artillery fire that was approaching. They hid in the bunker of the outpost and frantically dialed satellite phones to report and inquire about the situation.

They hadn't received any recent notification of any exercises nearby.

My God, although they are the Federal Navy, at this outpost, they usually deal with some smugglers.

Now the roar of heavy artillery, could it be that the enemy is firing at us

Not to mention the panic on the navy's side.

On the swaying rooftop, the young priest held the phone in one hand and covered his mouth with the other, quietly explaining to the person on the other end of the line.

Judging from his bitter face and his constant apologetic posture, this explanation was obviously not an easy task.

After three rounds of bombardment from heavy artillery, the soil near the lighthouse was completely lifted up.

The bunker and the vampire were now completely integrated together. The shattered concrete was filled with lakes of tattered flesh and blood.

It is obvious that under the heavy artillery of humans, even vampires with tenacious vitality are no different from grass under an explosion of this intensity.

Tang Song once heard a saying that no carbon-based creature with flesh and blood could withstand cannon bombardment.

If so, it means that the caliber of the cannon is not large enough and the power is not strong enough.

If one shot doesn’t work, try again!

West, who was standing next to Tang Song, looked at the scene in front of him and his eyes twitched involuntarily.

The destructive power of this heavy artillery made the deputy chief inquisitor of the Inquisition feel like getting a few huge cannons, going to Europe, and bombing some ancient castles.

See how many head-on shots those old vampires can take.

… …

Tang Song stood next to a five or six meter deep pit. Dust was rising and he could barely see the broken concrete, broken steel bars and the bunker building below.

This is an air-raid shelter and coastal defense fortress built by the Federation against the Soviet Union during the Cold War.

It was originally built by the federal government in response to the worst-case scenario during the Cold War, as a defensive position to prevent the former Soviet Union from launching a surprise attack on the federal homeland.

The Soviet-made heavy artillery easily tore a hole in it.

Although some of the fortifications have been abandoned and fallen into disrepair, it is still possible to see that these big guys from the former Soviet Union are stupid, rough and tough.

"Boss! I'll take the guys down!"

Frank brought dozens of gunmen and surrounded the deep pit, volunteering to take charge.

Tang Song waved his hand, signaling Frank to stay calm.

"Isn't there a gas station nearby? Go get some gasoline!"

Tang Song's spiritual consciousness swept across the underground palace, and surprisingly there were quite a few little mice hiding inside.

To deal with rats, Tang Song asked himself if he had any ideas.

"Damn humans! They actually used cannons against us!"

Lucian and a few werewolves hid in the corner of a corridor, holding various weapons such as submachine guns and shotguns, waiting for the enemy to come down.

He didn't want to work for Dickenfels, but now all the secret passages in and out of the bunker were blocked.

Lucien could only try his best to see if he could take some humans hostage and break out of the encirclement.

“What a smell!”

After waiting for a long time, Lucien did not see any signs of humans coming down, but instead smelled a strong smell of gasoline.

The sound of rushing water reached Lucien's ears, and his face changed drastically.

“Go!”

Lucien roared, and he transformed into a werewolf and rushed deep into the tunnel.

… …

At one end of the federal interstate highway, more than a dozen police cars and a large number of police officers were dispatched late at night to block all access to the abandoned small dock.

The cordon stopped several news interview vehicles that were sensitive to information, as well as gossipmongers from the surrounding areas who heard the noise and came over to watch the fun.

"Sheriff, we are reporters from the New York Daily News. What exactly happened inside

We have the right to interview, you cannot interfere with people’s right to press freedom! They have the right to know! "

Next to the cordon, a news girl in a beige business suit with a deep cleavage argued with the sheriff who stood in front of her.

Looking at the sheriff who was blocking her way, the woman skillfully put on a big hat.

The fat sheriff, with his bloated beer belly, stood in front of the blonde with his arms outstretched.

"Ma'am, it's very dangerous inside. We have received orders not to let anyone in, not even reporters!"

The Sheriff was carrying out the orders righteously. If his eyes had not been fixed on the girl's cleavage, he would have been a model of impartial law enforcement by the New York Police Department.

"Mr. Sheriff, please tell me what happened inside?"

After being stopped several times, the blonde learned her lesson. She simply reached out and hugged the sheriff's arm, shaking and begging.

Feeling the soft touch on his arm, the sheriff swallowed his saliva in frustration. Looking at the camera with flashing red light not far away, the sheriff struggled to pull his arm out.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you better get out of here!"

"Tsk, fuck you!" The blonde cursed softly, turned around and called to the cameraman beside her, and walked towards the interview car next to her.

Didi!

At that moment, two headlights lit up the interstate highway, and many onlookers, reporters and police officers, put their hands in front of their eyes to block out the strong light.

The two tanker trucks honked their horns, slowed down and slowly stopped not far from the blockade line.

"The road is closed here, you need to go back and take another route!"

The sheriff came to the tanker with two policemen, holding a police officer's ID in his hand, and gestured impatiently towards the driver's seat of the tanker.

Sitting in the driver's seat was a large white man with a buzz cut. He looked down at the sheriff with cold eyes without making any movement.

"Hey, I say, you don't understand what I'm saying, I told you to go back..."

Seeing that the white driver did not move, the sheriff yelled at him angrily.

"Sheriff, he's wearing a bulletproof vest!"

A sharp-eyed policeman noticed that the driver's upper body was wearing a black heavy bulletproof vest.

He quickly leaned close to the sheriff's ear and whispered a reminder.

"Hey, put your hands up where I can see them!"

The sheriff quickly pulled out a pistol from his waist and pointed it at the tanker truck driver.

Several policemen also drew their pistols from their waists.

"Relax, Sheriff, you need to take a call!"

In the co-pilot's seat, a young priest in a black robe stretched his arm out from the driver's seat with a tired look on his face, holding a satellite phone in his hand.

The sheriff looked at the priest suspiciously and took the satellite phone.

"Hello?"

"This is the Special Events Office of the Department of Defense. I'm Major General Harris. No matter who you are, get out of their way!"

The voice on the phone was even more irritable than the sheriff's. With a strong sense of waking up, he gave a direct and impolite order.

"All, all, all..."

After the person on the other end finished speaking, he hung up the phone.

The sheriff held the phone, hesitated for a moment, and handed the satellite phone back.

"Make way and let them pass!"

The sheriff trotted over and asked the police behind the isolation tape to clear a path.

Kakakaka…

After the two tanker trucks passed by, many reporters who were stopped began to frantically press the shutter button at the tanker trucks.

… …

Two tanker trucks drove off the interstate and staggered through the craters created by the shells until they reached the giant crater.

Two strong men came forward, connected the water pipe and turned on the water valve.

Gasoline flowed through the water pipes into the depths of the bunker.

West stood at the edge of the pit. Under his feet was a hole filled with smoke and dust. From time to time, clods of soil fell into the hole.

Watching the gasoline flowing into the huge pit like water, there was a little more appreciation in his eyes when he looked at Tang Song.

"I've been dealing with these vampires for decades, and I've never thought of using this method to deal with them!"

Tang Song took a silver cigar box from Frank, took out a thin cigar, and handed it to West.

West hesitated for a moment, then took the cigar, held it between his fingertips, and put it to his lips.

The priests nearby all looked at this scene in disbelief, and could hardly believe their eyes.

As West's personal butlers, the oldest of them had been with West for ten years, and they had never seen the chief referee smoke.

bite!

Tang Song took out a gilded lighter, lit it, put it to West's mouth, helped him light the cigar, then took out a cigar from the cigar box and lit it!

"I will still do the math. Two cans of gas don't exceed 100,000 US dollars, and the pension for one of my subordinates is more than 200,000," Tang Song said, throwing the Chanel lighter in his hand as a gift.

"Vampires, the nobles of the dark, to put it bluntly, are just some shameful creatures! Light a fire, just in time to let them see the light!"

Tang Song waved his hand, signaling the empty tanker to move away.

The lighter in his hand was thrown in an arc and landed directly into the huge pit.

The flames instantly rose four or five meters above the ground, the flames licked everything, and the raging flames instantly illuminated the night sky.

Several gunmen who were close to the fire were swept by the high temperature flames, and a large piece of their hair was burned. They hurriedly stepped back.

Tang Song did not dodge or retreat. He pressed down with his palm, and the flames rising into the air seemed to be pressed back into the bunker by an invisible barrier.

The flames followed the traces of gasoline flowing in and burned everything madly. Tables, chairs, benches, furniture, decorations, instruments and meters all caught fire under the fire.

With thick smoke and huge fire, the bunker seemed to have turned into a large country stove!

In the red-hot stove, the vampires inside became roasted rats.

“Ahem!”

West took a puff of his cigar, choked on the smoke twice, coughed a few times, and faced Tang Song's gaze.

He smiled and explained, "I haven't touched this stuff for nearly thirty years, and now I'm still smoking hard!"

West took a few more puffs and seemed to get his smoking feeling back.

He and Tang Song stood by the pit, puffing out smoke, relying on the light from the fire.

As if they realized that the two men had something to say, the gunmen under Tang Song and the priests under West all stepped back a distance.

"Tang, with your ability, it's really a waste of your talent to just stay in New York and be a gang leader!" West held a cigar between his lips and exhaled a puff of smoke. His wrinkled face showed a bit of vicissitudes.

Tang Song laughed and said self-deprecatingly: "If I don't want to be a gang leader, does the chief judge want me to follow you and be a pastor, listening to people praying for atonement? I can't do this job!"

"It's not bad to be a gang leader. At least I have a comfortable life in New York!"

Tang Song's mind raced, and he remembered the conversation he eavesdropped on between West and the priest. From the sound of it, West wanted to recruit him to join the Holy Shield Brotherhood!

However, Tang Song naturally did not show it on his face. He managed his expression and played dumb.

West turned his head and looked at Tang Song, "Pastor, haha, God doesn't want everyone to believe in him. Pastor is just a profession!"

"Tang! There are seven billion people in this world, but to put it bluntly, the right to speak is always in the hands of a small group of people, and this does not include gang leaders!"

West flicked the ash off his cigarette. "Don, have you ever heard of Freemasonry?"

Freemasonry, not the Brotherhood of the Holy Shield? Tang Song was stunned, but he immediately said in surprise:

"Freemasonry, the legendary organization that secretly rules the world? Judge, are you a member of Freemasonry?!"

Hearing the surprise in Tang Song's tone, West disdainfully denied Tang Song's words:

"Ruling the world with a stonemason organization that was established less than a few hundred years ago!

Tang, truly powerful organizations will not easily show themselves to the world. They are like icebergs. Those with real foundation and strength are often hidden beneath the water!

I'm just using Freemasonry as an example, we..."

"Wait!" Tang Song interrupted West. He looked at the red bottom of the pit and asked with a strange expression, "Chief Judge, are you sure you have sent Blade away from New York?!"

West looked at Tang Song in confusion, not quite understanding why Tang Song mentioned the blade, but he said with certainty:

"We have checked the scriptures in the church. To summon an evil spirit like the Blood God, we need a Daywalker as a sacrifice. We can't take any risks. Blade should be in the monastery in the Vatican now!"

"What's in there?" Tang Song asked, pointing at the huge pit where flames were rising.

Inside? West looked towards the huge pit. In the blazing flames, a blood-colored figure flew out as fast as a blood shadow.