CHRONICLE GODSFALL
7. MetaHuman
It seemed to happen in an instant, but it also felt as if a thousand years had passed.
Cloudhawk slowly opened his eyes. He realized that he was lying in the open, and he frantically sat down while scanning to the right and to the left. The area was filled with piles of rubble and the ruins of buildings. They were in the ruins, and it was already noon.
Is that all a dream? The wound on his chest is gone. The wound on his shoulder is gone. The sweeper kicked him and caused internal bleeding completely free of pain.
Even the wounds he had gotten from the beating given by the scar-faced man had disappeared completely. That can't be ALL dreams, right?
Cloudhawk could feel that his hands were clenching around something. When he lowered his gaze to look, his eyes narrowed. Wasn't this the jewel he took from the broom camp?
The jewel did not shine at all; in fact, it no longer emitted the slightest bit of light. However, its once smooth surface was now covered with many slender 'blood vessels. It was as if his blood had been drained into it, with some remaining on its surface.
The jewel looked very ordinary and ordinary. Anyone who saw it would think it was nothing more than an ordinary black stone. Other than the many deep red lines lining its surface, there was actually nothing special at all.
"Wake up?" The fat man walked towards Cloudhawk. Cloudhawk hurriedly hid the black stone, then looked at the fat man somewhat nervously. This man always had a cheerful expression on his face, but he was actually a very evil person. However, the fat man did not seem to mind his facial expression. He actually threw Cloudhawk a piece of bread. "Eat something first."
Cloudhawk hesitated for a while, but he was so hungry that he received the bread and began to gnaw at it. The piece of bread was as hard as wood, but to Cloudhawk it was truly delicious.
The mercenaries were busy dragging various mutant corpses into rainproof bags. As for the fat man, he only lit a cigarette while sitting down. “You know, at first I just lied to you. But I just changed my mind. I'll take you to our outpost.”
Why did the fat man suddenly change his mind and become so good? Cloudhawk personally witnessed it sending dozens of scavengers to death, treating them as if they were just trash!
“You may not know this, but you are now a metahuman.” The fat man did not wait for Cloudhawk to answer the obvious question. “And don't ask me what is meta. Fuck if I know. All I know is that we are a new generation of humans whose bodies have been upgraded in a certain way and are much stronger than ordinary people. I'm a meta, Crazy Dog is a meta, and every other member of our mercenary company is a meta. Now, it seems like you are also a meta.”
Waves of excitement began to enter Cloudhawk's heart. Does this mean he will become as strong as this fat white man and muscular black man in the future?
The fat man smoked his cigarette, then continued, “Buuuut. There are many different types of meta. There is meta power, meta agility, meta control, meta perception, meta intelligence .. and for you, you are nothing more than a healing meta.
Cloudhawk doesn't understand. "Healing map?"
“Mad Dog is a meta of strength, which is why he can break bones as easily as clamping twigs. Meta powers are suitable for being close combat fighters. I am a meta control; I have very perfect control over every part of my body, allowing me to aim and move with absolute precision. That's why I can shoot your ball from a hundred steps without even looking. I can control any tool or weapon with perfect precision.”
“Then what about me?” Cloudhawk was a bit impatient.
"You?" The fat man sneered. “All you do is heal a little faster, but what good is it? If a bullet hits you in the head, you're as dead as anyone else. That's why healing meta is the least useful of all meta's. I mean, I can't really use you to block mutabeasts attacks for me, right?”
The most useless kind of metahuman? Cloudhawk couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
“Heh!” The fat man patted him hard. "spirit. Less than one person in a hundred is a meta. You've been lucky enough! Meta Healing may be useless, but at least you will recover your energy faster than an ordinary person. That means you will be useful as a laborer. Worry not! Just follow me.”
A thunderous thunderous voice suddenly sounded from the direction of the desert. This sound was originally small but it quickly became much louder, almost as if it was moving at incredible speed through the wastelands resulting in a sonic boom.
“Fuck! Finally!" The fat man turned off his cigarette and got up, his hands resting on the gun at his waist. He barked in the other direction, "Everything, looks alive!"
All the mercenaries who were resting jumped to their feet, and the Mad Dog also took out his two snowy swords.
Cloudhawk did not understand why the mercenaries were acting this way, but the thunderous explosions coming from the wastelands were already very close by now. When he turned around to squint at them, his eyes suddenly widened. He saw something so unimaginable that his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
A small black dot had appeared in the night sky. It seemed to have come from a distant heaven, and as it slowly sped through the sky, it grew bigger and bigger.
It was actually a huge airship that was at least a hundred meters long!
There were some obvious patches on the plane's large gas sac, and rust spots could be seen all over its metal frame. Evidence of emergency repairs could be seen everywhere, and some parts were actually protruding out, as if they were going to break at any moment. Overall, however, this is a very complete aircraft.
The outer walls and copper pipes were all neatly arranged, and the engine at the rear constantly let out a lot of hot steam as the four sets of propellers spun fiercely, ensuring that the ship could go at a flat pace. On each side of the plane were black cannons protruding from various openings, bringing a sense of awe and threat.
The plane slowly started to descend, finally stopping in front of the mercenary campfire. Just then, a strong wind blew past him, sending rocks tumbling on the ground and half extinguishing the camp. The wind was so strong that Cloudhawk could barely open his eyes.
Mendeering! The rusted door to the plane opened, and a black figure emerged from the wind and sand.
This man is tall and very muscular. He was wearing a set of black leather clothes that completely covered his entire body, not exposing any elements. He wore a black breathing mask shaped like a stork's beak, and the mask was connected to several wires and tubes. A faint sound of heavy breathing could be heard from the mask, and white steam was seen coming out of the exhaust pipe. In fact, he looked like a monstrous humanoid with a long beak bird face.
An expression of extreme vigilance was on Mad Dog's face.
The fat man looked like he always did, but his hands never escaped from both of his pistols as he walked towards the black-clothed man. “We've found the target you want. Where's the item we want?”
The black-clothed man did not even glance at the fat man. He only gestured with his hands, causing several men to emerge from the armored plane. These people were dressed in white hazmat suits, and they rushed out with ready toolboxes as they moved towards the corpses on the ground. They opened the rain-resistant body bag, then glanced all over the body. One of the men in white clothes nodded. “They look fine!”
The black-clothed man threw a box at the fat man's feet.
One of the novice mercenaries went to take the box, then opened it. There were several firearms neatly arranged inside the box, as well as a large amount of gunpowder and several needles of various colors.
The fat man breathed a sigh of relief. “Happy business!”
"Wait a minute!" For the first time, the black-clothed man spoke. His hoarse voice sounded like the sound of a tightly controlled ferocious beast, and when it came out of the breathing mask it sounded very strange. “Did any of you find anything unusual? For example, a strange stone.”
Cloudhawk's heart almost stopped!
The fat man frowned. “This place is filled with rocks. Not seeing the special.”
"Are you sure?"
The black-clothed man slowly raised his head.
Although his face was completely covered by that strange mask, all the mercenaries could still feel an extremely dangerous and sharp gaze sweeping over them, causing them all to retreat a few nervous steps.
Everyone instantly felt as if they had been pierced by that gaze. As for the fat man, he was a bit annoyed. "What's this all about?"
"There's nothing." The black-clothed man withdrew his gaze, then said slowly, “That stone is completely useless to you. If you can find it in the future, I'll pay you a hundred times the commission you earn today!”
All the mercenaries took a deep breath. Whahuh? A hundred times the commission? The commission for this mission is already equivalent to a full year commission. To multiply that number a hundred times ... shit, what kind of stone is this?!
Now, the sweeper's body has been loaded onto the plane.
The four propellers once again began to spin, kicking up another wind and sandstorm as the huge plane began to slowly rise into the air. The copper tube once again began to produce a thunderous sound that sounded like a crackling cough from someone suffering from lung disease before it finally began to spurt out a large airflow. The plane slowly began to accelerate, then finally disappeared into the horizon.
The fat man raised his chest, a satisfied expression on his face. He walked next to the wide-eyed and agape Cloudhawk, then slapped his shoulders hard. “Crazy, right? That thing is an amazing high-end toy!”
Cloudhawk tightly clenched the stone in his hand, trying to do his best to act normally. His voice, however, could not help but tremble a little. "W-who are they?"
“A mysterious group of bastards. Who knows? Some real ruler of the wastelands, that's for sure! ” The fat man obviously doesn't know much about them. “Not very important. Little fry like you will probably never have the chance to meet people like them. Hell, best if you don't. Those people actually killed people without batting an eye. To them, we are nothing more than ants!”
Were they really so strong that even these powerful mercenaries looked at them with admiration?
Cloudhawk had no idea what kind of extraordinary treasure he had found. The mysterious stone was just lying there quietly in his hand, and when it pressed down on his flesh, he felt as if the stone was part of his body.
The fat man called out in a loud voice, “Shape, form! We will be back!”
All the mercenaries cheered in celebration as they boarded their patchwork vehicles. The numerous wheeled rough giant let out some furious roars, then began to charge through the uneven wasteland.
