Su Ming'an leaned against a lamp post, hearing the ubiquitous screams between cities; a massacre was occurring.
He glanced at his own Level Four-Rank Six, then steadied himself against the wall as he walked back.
Blood dripped down his right arm, which cradled the Glory of the Hunt; the barrel was stained bright red.
Along the way, he saw many Beacon members, doing the same thing as him—intercepting exotic beasts, protecting the street blocks behind them.
But this was merely a drop in the bucket.
There were still thousands of exotic beasts, and nearly eighty thousand residents evacuating; even with numerous mercenaries, only a portion of the people could be saved.
In many places, he saw human corpses being chewed on. Many died together, perhaps fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, lovers, their hands still tightly clasped as they tried to escape.
