GTAG Chapter 69 Tyrant
Not only was the Hunter stunned, even Hank himself was dumbfounded.
Although Hank knew that the scales covering his body provided incredible defense, he never expected them to be this strong—so strong that even this clearly extraordinary monster couldn't break through.
The Hunter, with its limited intelligence, could not comprehend what had just happened.
It stared at its own broken claw, then at Hank, its small head full of confusion. Its mind simply wasn't capable of processing such a complex situation.
But while the Hunter was stunned, Hank was not.
He swung his fist backward, slamming it directly into the Hunter's head. The blow crushed its skull, red and white matter bursting out in a grotesque mess.
Ignoring the headless body collapsing to the ground, Hank shook his hand, flicking away the filth. His nose twitched, picking up the scent of other Hunters nearby.
He chose the closest one and charged through the forest.
With the sickening sound of flesh and bone being torn apart, the last Hunter fell to Hank's might.
And then…
The roar of helicopter blades filled the night air.
The sound had already been present while Hank was slaughtering the Hunters, but the dense trees had prevented the helicopters from pinpointing his exact location. Still, since they knew he was hunting the creatures, they had narrowed down his general position.
Hank didn't know why the helicopters hadn't fired their rockets yet, but since they had let slip such a good opportunity, he decided he would return the favor properly.
Gripping his massive axe, Hank leapt swiftly between the trees, closing in on the helicopters he had already located.
As he drew closer, the helicopters' equipment locked onto his position—yet still, they didn't attack.
Instead, one of the helicopters dropped a massive container.
The heavy crate crashed into the forest, the trees groaning under the impact.
After dropping it, the helicopters began to climb higher and turn back, seemingly preparing to leave.
The next second, a spinning giant axe hurtled through the night, smashing directly into the cockpit of one helicopter.
The machine lost its pilot, swaying helplessly as it plummeted toward the ground.
The sudden crash panicked the other two helicopters. The pilots fumbled, desperately trying to climb higher.
But before the first helicopter even hit the ground, a black figure pounced toward another one.
The pilot froze in terror. In the darkness, the shadow looked like a demon crawling out of hell, its glowing blood-red eyes piercing him to the core. He couldn't even lift a finger.
Moments later, Hank tore through the helicopter, killing everyone inside.
Then, unfazed by the final helicopter's storm of gunfire, Hank ripped it apart as well.
All three helicopters that had been shadowing him were now wrecked, none left standing.
Hank strode toward the wreckage of the first downed machine, eager to reclaim his axe and scavenge anything useful.
A few minutes later, he retrieved his weapon. The helicopter held only one corpse; it seemed the co-pilot and others in the back had escaped.
Hank didn't bother chasing them. Ordinary humans weren't worth the effort.
"Umbrella Corporation? This company still exists!?"
Spotting the logo on the helicopter, Hank frowned.
He had heard of the Umbrella Corporation as a major conglomerate. But today, he had glimpsed its darker side. With these Hunters and their ability to track him down, his instincts told him the company was deeply involved in something sinister.
Still, Hank had no interest in digging further. He wasn't that curious, and even with his strength, he couldn't fight an entire corporation alone.
What worried him more was that Umbrella had now marked him. He didn't want trouble with them—but clearly, they weren't going to leave him alone.
That gave him a headache.
After minutes of thought, Hank realized there was only one way: make Umbrella suffer enough, and they would stop chasing him.
Though deep in the forest with no map, Hank's sense of direction was sharp. He remembered the way out, and that was enough.
But just as he took a few steps, he froze.
He was surrounded again.
Three towering figures, each two meters tall, bald, and covered with obvious signs of surgical modification, blocked his path. Tyrants.
Hank gripped his axe tightly. His instincts screamed that these opponents would not be easy to deal with.
"Roar!"
The Tyrants, engineered as weapons of slaughter, wasted no words.
Spotting Hank, they instantly surrounded him, raising their weapons and pulling the triggers.
A storm of metal engulfed Hank. The rapid-fire Gatling guns spewed endless streams of bullets, raining destruction until the ammunition ran dry.
Spent casings littered the ground around the Tyrants, while Hank's body was surrounded by deformed bullets.
"Hiss…"
Hank sucked in a breath.
The bullets hadn't pierced his scales, but the pain was real. The sudden ambush had caught him completely off guard.
Fortunately, his defense was absurdly high, keeping him safe.
But his expression shifted as the Tyrants discarded their empty guns and pulled rocket launchers from their backs.
Hank hurled his giant axe at one Tyrant and lunged toward another.
The spinning weapon tore through the air, too fast for the Tyrant to dodge. Forced to block with its launcher, the weapon was cleaved cleanly in half before the axe sank deep into the creature's chest, sending it flying.
At the same time, the second Tyrant fired its rocket.
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