Chapter 223: Total Victory! A 1% Casualty Rate! Decapitation!
Before long, V and his team arrived at a certain corner.
The pulse scanner in the scout's hand indicated that a large group of Reaper soldier ants had gathered just ahead to their left.
These soldier ants were all elite units equipped with exoskeletons and wielding energy weapons. Each one stood over two meters tall and was stationed along the path to the central command hub.
Clearly, their destination was already within reach.
"Team Two stays here to protect the engineering crew. Team One, follow me and push forward!"
V gave the command through the team's communication device.
On the Reapers' side, the soldier ants stood at full alert, already linked to the Queen's instructions via their hive-mind system, each vigilantly scanning their surroundings.
They occasionally emitted harsh hissing vibrations from their mouths, as though communicating among themselves.
While these soldier ants had no idea how the humans had pinpointed their command center, at this point, the only thing they could do was fight to the death to stop them.
If the human assault team managed to break through and destroy the control room, this mothership would be completely finished!
At that point, forget mounting a counterattack against the human fleet outside—they wouldn't even be able to turn the ship around and escape the solar system.
Just then, a heavy, thunderous stomping noise rang out. As the soldier ants turned their heads, they saw a massive "tin can" charging straight at them!
"Hiss—!!"
Amid the shrieks of panic and alarm, V brought his chainsword down in a single, brutal arc, shredding the nearest Reaper.
Only now did the soldier ants raise their weapons and open fire.
Energy bolts howled through the air, but V and his squad of Astartes warriors pressed forward with bold, unflinching strides, evading what shots they could.
Bang! Bang—!
The energy bolts that struck their heavy Mark X power armor clanged against the thick ceramite plating, mostly deflected or absorbed without issue.
As long as they moved fast enough to prevent the soldier ants from locking on, the Astartes didn't have much to fear from the incoming fire.
The Reapers' shots were dense, yes, but not powerful enough to penetrate V's armor in such a short time. At most, they left scorched marks.
Now deep in enemy ranks, V went on a rampage with his chainsword swinging wide.
Greatsword in his right hand, bolt pistol in his left.
The sound of tearing flesh and explosive impact formed a deathly rhythm, like a symphony of annihilation crashing down upon the soldier ants.
Against such a ferocious assault, the Reapers had no way to mount an effective defense.
Their exoskeletons were, in truth, little more than flashy support gear—nowhere near enough to stand against a walking fortress like V.
Even without his power armor, V could've taken on these frail mutant insects with raw strength alone—and still won.
At this moment, the Reapers' most common and reliable tactic—overwhelming with sheer numbers—was rendered completely useless.
Against a few dozen of these colossal armored warriors, they were no more threatening than livestock, cut down or blasted to pieces the instant anyone got close.
Here, V's prowess as a Primaris warrior was on full display.
With all enemy focus drawn to him alone, Team Two Astartes seized the opportunity to take advantageous positions.
They quickly established a rotating field of suppressive fire to support V in clearing out the remaining units.
Ratatatat—!
Boom!!
Bolt carbines, Contour smart guns, and plasma sniper rifles wove a deadly harmony through the Reaper ranks.
In under five minutes, the Astartes had fully wiped out the area. Over half of the kills came from V alone!
With no more obstacles in their way, the warriors regrouped and continued escorting the engineering team to the entrance of the command center.
There, a sealed blast door barred the way—but to V, it was no real obstacle.
After sizing up the door and giving it a knock to estimate its structural integrity, he raised his leg and kicked hard.
With a thunderous crash, the supposedly solid door blew inward.
Behind him, Song Zhaomei could only gape in stunned silence.
Thud-thud—!
The instant the door burst open, Astartes on both sides rushed into the command center.
Dozens of Reapers, their heads grotesquely oversized like bobbleheads, stood at their respective control stations, issuing commands.
At the moment of eye contact, the Reapers instinctively attempted a psychic takeover using brainwave control.
But the Astartes' thick power armor rendered their psionic attacks utterly useless.
No words were exchanged, no hesitation shown—the Astartes charged forward, swords rising and stomping down, slaughtering the heretical bugs one by one.
To avoid damaging the delicate systems inside the control center, the warriors had to go through the trouble of dispatching the Reapers with close-range kills.
"Hiss hiss!!"
Watching these towering "iron cans" dismember, decapitate, and pulp their comrades with sword and fist alike, the Reapers inside felt as if they'd descended into hell.
The agony was so intense, the shared hive-mind began broadcasting it clearly across the collective.
As a result, some Reapers were overwhelmed by sheer mental torment before they'd even been touched.
Splurt!!
As the final Reaper was split in two by V's chainsword, he turned coldly to the engineers behind him and said in a deep voice:
"Clear."
Song Zhaomei met V's eyes for a brief second, then nodded and led her engineers to take control of the Reapers' consoles.
Because the Reaper civilization's core network architecture was built on the same binary foundation as human systems, Song Zhaomei quickly understood the main functions and mechanisms after a brief glance.
With a nod, she signaled her team. Several engineers pulled out their tablets, laptops, and hacking tools, immediately beginning the process of implanting virus programs.
At that moment, V stepped up beside her and, gazing at the familiar code before them, asked:
"With your skills, can you fully take control of the Reaper mothership within three minutes?"
V himself had once been a highly skilled hacker. Whether it was ICE intrusion protocols or Blackwall breaches, he'd handled them with ease.
Though he'd spent recent years serving with the Iron Hands legion on various interstellar campaigns, he hadn't forgotten his roots.
In fact, V's current hacking abilities weren't far off from the engineers working beside him.
Without looking up, Song Zhaomei replied, "If all we needed was to crash the system with a virus, we could do it in three seconds."
"But since we're taking full control of the mothership, we'll need at least three minutes."
In truth, even three minutes was more than enough. But this was her first time working with Reaper tech, and she needed a minute or two to fully adapt to their interface.
"Alright. Get to it."
V gave a nod, then opened his comms to report back: "Morgan, all clear on our end. We'll have control of the Reaper systems in about three minutes."
"Copy that."
Hearing Morgan Blackhand's voice in response, V said nothing more and left the command center.
His next task was to lead the Astartes in establishing a defensive perimeter to ensure the engineers could work undisturbed.
Soon, swarms of Reaper soldier ants began to surge in from all directions, under the Queen's orders, trying to reclaim the control center—
But unfortunately for them, V was there…
After wiping out one wave, another immediately surged forth—there was no end to the battle in sight. Even their ammunition had already been cycled through twice.
If it weren't for the resupply drops from the support units, they'd have long since resorted to drawing their chainswords for brutal close-quarters combat against the millions of soldier ants swarming the field.
Jack slammed in another fresh magazine and racked the bolt. Without hesitation, he hoisted the newly delivered Vulcan Gatling gun, took aim at the soldier ants less than a kilometer from the defensive line, and squeezed the trigger.
"Motherfuckers! Die, you damned heretical freaks!"
Bang!
Bang—!
In an instant, the Gatling, spitting rounds wreathed in blue fire, roared across the battlefield, tearing through the dense swarm of Reaper soldier ants, blowing them apart and cleaving them in two.
But it wasn't long before Jack heard the dreaded click of an empty chamber again. He slammed in another magazine—who knew which round this was now—and prepared to resume fire.
However, instead of opening fire immediately, Jack Wills handed off the Vulcan Gatling to the soldier beside him and strode quickly over to the comms station.
"When the hell are reinforcements and the ammo drops arriving? We're about to run out of fucking bullets here!"
Grabbing the comms unit, Jack barked into it at full volume, demanding an update from HQ.
[Approximately eight minutes!]
HQ's reply came through without delay.
"…"
Jack Wills fell silent for a moment. He zoomed in the holo-display on his tactical helmet, examining the battlefield's layout and ammo consumption data carefully.
They had now pulled the front line back near the landing zone. The surrounding corporate troops could barely hold a defensive perimeter and had no capacity to push forward.
"Shit! Let's hope we hold out until the reinforcements and supply drops get here. I'm not about to get into bayonet brawls with these goddamn bug freaks."
Cursing silently to himself, Jack toggled the display to view the first-person feeds from other units.
Among the AST power armor squads, "Full Metal Bitch" Rita from Earth-003's Edge of Tomorrow was leading her unit in a fierce melee with the Reapers on the front line.
To be fair, her combat prowess lived up to the name. The Titan mech she piloted was both highly agile and devastatingly lethal.
Thanks to her command, they had managed to hold the northwestern front through sheer hand-to-hand combat. Mountains of ant corpses piled up where her blade passed.
Whoosh—!!
Elsewhere, a charged-up laser cannon fired from an Astartes "Iron Man" warrior, sweeping through the air and vaporizing a wide swath of soldier ants under the aerial unit's barrage.
But the Astartes, clad in anti-Hulk armor, were simultaneously taking heavy fire—tens of thousands of energy blasts and bullets rained down on them.
Boom…!
Suddenly, several watermelon-sized energy projectiles came streaking in from a distance and slammed into an Astartes warrior.
Luckily, his anti-Hulk suit was equipped with an antimatter shield, which absorbed much of the damage. Even so, the impact sent him flying and crashing into the ground.
Seeing this, Jack Wills immediately shouted over the global comms:
[All units, be advised!]
[The enemy is deploying heavy energy artillery—stay alert and confirm your armor's antimatter shields are operational!]
As soon as the words left his mouth, Jack couldn't help but start cursing again—those bastards at HQ, what the hell was taking them so long to send ammo?
But before he could say it out loud, a new voice crackled into his earpiece—it was Morgan Blackhand:
[This is the command center aboard the Infinity-class flagship. Our hackers have successfully taken control of the Reaper mothership's central command room. The enemy's anti-air defense system is now offline.]
[We're deploying two RCS-class armored cruisers to the landing zone for reinforcement and supply drops.]
[Hold your ground, everyone—victory is within reach.]
At that moment, every Astartes warrior felt a renewed surge of morale. At last, the tide of this interstellar war was beginning to turn!
Sure enough, just as Morgan Blackhand finished speaking, swarms of fighter jets roared overhead, loaded with a deadly payload.
Whoosh—!!
The airborne fleet swiftly opened their belly bays and unleashed their bombs straight into the swarm of soldier ants.
In the blink of an eye, countless mushroom clouds sprouted across the battlefield. The air reeked of scorched, rotting insect flesh.
Thank god for sealed power armor—without it, the stink of charbroiled bugs alone could've knocked out half the troops.
BOOM—!!!
The fighters had dropped micro-plasma bombs, each one with a TNT yield of nearly 20 kilotons.
Massive, high-temperature blue fireballs erupted and instantly vaporized swathes of Reaper soldier ants beneath them.
The resulting shockwaves tore apart the exoskeletons of many others, killing them with raw concussive force.
In mere moments, the hills and plains once teeming with Reapers were reduced to smoking craters. The area in front of the assault troops suddenly cleared.
Seeing the tides turn, the Astartes warriors let out triumphant war cries as they briefly allowed themselves a moment of relief.
"Hell yeah!!"
At this moment, Jack Wills looked over his shoulder toward the gap in the Reaper mothership. A steady stream of corporate landing craft were pouring through.
He knew then—the battle was in its final stage. All that remained was the outcome of David's decapitation strike.
Refocusing on the battlefield, Jack quickly assessed the unit's casualties and barked out new orders:
"Grab every round you've got and charge! Flatten those heretical bugs into paste—don't leave a single one standing!"
With that, Jack took the lead and launched the counterattack. Fired up and eager to vent their rage, the troops surged forward with a deafening roar.
…
Meanwhile—
In the outer orbital zone around the Reaper mothership, the now-leaderless Reaper drones began drifting aimlessly through space, scattered like severed kites.
With these no longer posing any threat, the corporate CIWS emplacements opened fire freely, swatting the drones out of the sky like flies.
Inside the command center aboard the Infinity -class flagship:
"Report, sir!"
"Our engineers have fully taken over the Reaper command systems and uploaded the intel to corporate HQ."
"Vice Commander Jack's landing zone has received full resupply and close air support."
"…"
Despite the steady stream of frontline victories, Morgan Blackhand—stationed at the central control console—showed no sign of joy or relief.
His eyes remained fixed on the holographic display before him.
Moments earlier, he had a video call with Li Ang . Under Li Ang 's instructions, Morgan's mission wasn't just to take the mothership.
He had to secure the Queen.
And right now, both David and reed were still deep in their mission, with no updates yet.
After a moment of silent deliberation, Morgan finally spoke:
"Begin full fleet status report. I want updates on unit integrity and casualty counts."
Soon, the data officer sent over the latest report:
[Operation "Independence Day": The Infinity -class fleet retains 99.99% structural integrity. No critical damage reported.]
[Casualties: 137 dead, 384 wounded. Total personnel losses under 1%.]
After nearly an entire day of intense interstellar warfare, the megacorp's casualty rate was still under 1%.
Such an outstanding combat-loss ratio was something no force from Earth-003 could ever dream of achieving.
Morgan Blackhand's grim expression eased slightly. The operation had gone off without major hitches—an impressive success.
After a brief pause to compose himself, Morgan issued his next command:
"Notify all divisions—keep pushing toward the landing zone. Call in additional troops to support the assault units.
"Inflict as much firepower as possible and keep the Reaper Mothership in a state of chaos. We must locate the Reaper Queen's position!"
As soon as Morgan issued the order, the communications officer below immediately responded:
"Yes, sir!"
Just then, as Morgan finished giving out instructions, a new message from the central control console at the Allworld Base Headquarters popped up on his screen.
"..."
...
While the frontlines across multiple battlefields had made breakthrough progress, David and Reed remained seated calmly inside the cabin, hovering above the designated target zone.
As they patiently waited for the target to appear, they monitored real-time data via a holographic screen—including the current battle casualty report.
When David saw that the casualty rate was less than 1%, the hot-blooded young man couldn't help but burst out laughing.
But a stern glare from Reed shut him up instantly, forcing him to swallow the excitement.
And rightfully so—David's role was critical. The frontline had all but secured victory; now it was up to him to deliver the perfect finishing blow.
At that moment, the shuttle that had locked onto the target began rapidly descending.
Through the pilot's shared video feed, David and Reed finally caught sight of the long-hidden mastermind: the Reaper Queen emerging from a mysterious fortress.
"We finally caught her slipping!"
David clenched his fists in excitement, itching to dive straight down and jam the matrix interface device right into the Queen's skull.
As the Skyhawk Shuttle accelerated, David's heart began pounding uncontrollably. His nerves were firing on all cylinders.
It wasn't every day he got to play the leading man in an operation of this scale—he was determined to seize this rare opportunity.
"Report: 15 seconds until we reach the designated area. Prepare for deployment!"
The pilot's voice came through the comms.
"Copy that."
David and Reed immediately geared up for combat. The team gathered at the cabin door, silently counting down in their heads.
'3, 2, 1!'
In the next instant, Reed, David, and the rest of the Astartes warriors leapt out of the cabin in near-perfect unison, activating their Anti-Hulk propulsion units mid-air.
Whoooosh—!!
David felt the roaring wind whipping across his face as the Reaper Queen loomed closer and closer. He adjusted his trajectory and gave the order to open fire.
Boom...!
A dozen Astartes soldiers raised their hands, unleashing palm-mounted mini laser cannons. Blazing white-hot energy spheres streaked through the air—
—hurtling straight toward the ground.
Meanwhile, outside the underground fortress near the command center of the Reaper Mothership, a transport vessel was slowly approaching the Queen.
Clearly, this was her escape craft!
She intended to flee the mothership and head to another star system to bring back reinforcements, determined to continue locking horns with humanity's civilization.
But the very next second, over a dozen energy blasts rained down and exploded violently, reducing the transport vessel before the Queen to a smoking heap of scrap.
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