Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 381: Fierce Battle! The Sins of the Father!

On one side, preparations were intensively underway for the comprehensive price adjustnts of all Phantom Dream engines and the pricing strategy specifically for the Huaguo region.

anwhile—

"Allahu..."

Pew, holding an AK while standing in the watchtower and wearing Zakhaev's army uniform, muttered quietly.

This action naturally triggered a wave of panicked warnings in the livestream chat—

Holy shit! You can't say that!

'As a Swede living in the United States, shouting Allahu... Pew's background is seriously complicated (laughing)'

Three! Nation! Showdown!

'Just here to watch the chaos without worrying about consequences'

Is that sothing you can actually say?

I'm fucking dying, how many tis has Pew been banned for having a loose mouth? Dude just never learns

'I have reason to suspect Pew didn't just put on enemy uniform - this bastard might have actually defected (dog head)'

'Just needs to strap on so BOOMBOOM now (dog head)'

'This damn stream can only broadcast during midday because sothing's bound to happen sooner or later (eye roll)'

LMAO hahahahaha...

...

Excellent!

As the twin-sniper mories level concluded, everyone finally learned who was backing Alaszad.

Zakhaev, the top leader of this extremist organization, had long been dedicated to researching and controlling nuclear weapons, hoping to return the world to the Cold War era dominated by the United States and Warsaw Pact, thereby extending his influence worldwide and maximizing his interests!

And now, 15,000 nuclear warheads were in imminent danger.

For global peace and stability, and to prevent the world situation from descending into turmoil again.

S.A.S had to take corresponding asures against Zakhaev, while the U.S. Marine Corps needed to provide answers for the 30,000 fallen Arican soldiers.

Thus, a joint "decapitation" operation between the British Royal Air Service and U.S. Marine Corps was launched.

To stop or capture Zakhaev, the first step was finding him.

Yes.

Since Captain Price and his team located and eliminated Alaszad, Zakhaev had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Only a handful of people knew Zakhaev's whereabouts.

Soon, everyone focused their attention on one of the rebel field commanders - Zakhaev's eldest son, Little Zakhaev.

According to reliable intelligence, Little Zakhaev would appear today at a rebel camp in southern Warsaw.

Soap followed Captain Price, along with his instructor Gaz and several Marine mbers, infiltrating the rebel camp under cover of darkness.

After clearing out nurous enemies and changing into enemy uniforms, they waited here for Little Zakhaev, planning to catch him in their trap.

Rustle—

Just as Pew was muttering and testing the boundaries of getting banned—

The sound of a vehicle convoy approaching echoed.

Captain Price's experienced voice ca through the earpiece: [Six vehicles approaching from southwest direction. Don't spook them. Hold fire until my command.]

Shuffle.

Hearing this, Pew on the watchtower exchanged glances with his instructor Gaz and nodded.

Soon enough!

As tire friction sounds grew closer, a vehicle convoy appeared in everyone's view.

Two military trucks led the way, followed by a military jeep, then two more military trucks apparently loaded with combat personnel and equipnt.

Bringing up the rear was an armored vehicle.

Hiss—

Captain Price's voice ca through the earpiece: "All teams, target is in the military jeep. Repeat, target in military jeep. We need him alive, but prioritize your safety first."

Whoosh—

A biting, murderous cold wind blew, making Pew instinctively shrink his neck while his eyes counted the soldiers protecting Little Zakhaev.

And just then!

Pew accidentally glanced toward the jeep in the convoy's middle and saw Little Zakhaev wearing a blue Adidas tracksuit, sitting in the open-top jeep's back seat, thoughtfully watching him and Gaz.

Their eyes t!

Little Zakhaev's scarred brow slightly raised, seemingly sensing sothing amiss.

Pew's heart also jumped!

Too insane!

Rember!

This is a single-player ga!

Little Zakhaev is essentially just an AI model generated from data!

But in that brief one-second eye contact, Pew felt like he was truly locking eyes with the son of a ruthless, cold-blooded demon!

That cold-bloodedness, that scrutiny, that indifferent yet venomous gaze - all were portrayed perfectly by Golden Wind!

Clearly, after accumulating experience through so many titles, Golden Wind's mastery of Phantom Dream 5 had reached perfection!

The air seed to freeze for half a second!

And after that exchanged glance!

—!!!

As Captain Price's SVD sniper rifle precisely blew off Little Zakhaev's driver's head, a thunderous shout pierced through the southern Warsaw jungle skies!

"Move! Take him alive!!!"

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat—!!!

—BOOM—!!!

With Captain Price's sudden attack, chaos instantly erupted!

Bullets poured down like rain, taking down the confused enemies around Little Zakhaev!

The two Marine mbers waiting below in enemy disguises also burst out like tigers, charging straight toward Little Zakhaev's jeep!

At this critical mont!

!!!

Three earth-shaking gunshots echoed through the skies!

Little Zakhaev pulled a gold-plated Desert Eagle from behind and fired at one charging Marine!

Splat—!

Blood splattered!

Simultaneously, Little Zakhaev leaped up like a leopard from the back seat, kicked the headshot driver out, then slamd the accelerator!

Vroom—ROAR—!!!

"Holy shit! He's escaping!"

Pew finally reacted, raised his AK, and fired at the car's engine hood and tires!

Rat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Though Pew's reaction wasn't particularly slow—everything happened in a flash—

Little Zakhaev's jeep was already charging forward.

Bullets struck the jeep's hood, sparking everywhere!

And the next mont!

CRASH—!

Pew felt the wooden watchtower beneath him shake violently!

CRACK!

The desperate Little Zakhaev had ramd through the wooden watchtower! With a snapping sound, the beam broke, Pew scread, and he crashed heavily to the ground with the collapsing tower!

THUD—!!!

Tumble tumble—

Pew rolled far across the ground!

Stars danced before his eyes, his vision blurring.

Dizzy, he watched Little Zakhaev stagger out of the wrecked jeep that had crashed into a roadside gas station, clutching the golden Desert Eagle, holding his ribs as he fled into an alley!

"You... motherfucker... hit and run...?"

Pew felt heavy pressure on his chest, raised his gun to shoot at Little Zakhaev's retreating back, but instructor Gaz—who had gotten up first—pressed down his barrel:

"Let's go Soap! We need him alive!"

Grabbing Pew up from the ground while pressing his earpiece: "This is B-6 Squad! Vulture! We need aerial guidance!"

Chase!

Amid the chaotic scene!

Captain Price stayed behind with the Marines to hold off enemies, while the crucial task of pursuing Little Zakhaev fell to Pew and Gaz.

The two hurried forward!

Moving from their ambush position, turning the corner, they heard Vulture helicopter transmitting—

[Vulture: Target fleeing northeast. Attention, enemy reinforcents here. Prepare for contact!]

Rat-tat-tat—!

Before the words faded!

As Pew peeked around the corner, three enemies charged toward them down the path, AK triggers pulled, bullets hitting the corner wall, raising dust clouds!

"Fuck!"

Pew panicked, quickly slid behind an abandoned car, then instinctively raised his AK overhead, firing controlled bursts toward the enemy!

Rat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

'It appears! Middle Eastern-style AK firing!'

The livestream erupted in laughter:

"I knew this guy had so rebel in him!"

"True nature exposed! Suggest instructor Gaz imdiately delivers justice!"

"LMAO, under pressure he instantly reveals his undercover identity?"

"Holy shit! He actually fucking killed one!"

The enemies probably didn't react either, thinking: This guy's wearing our uniform and using our firing style, why's he shooting us?

'《Double Agent》'

'《Chicken Soup Spy》'

"Hahahahaha too ridiculous..."

...

While viewers watched excitedly and laughed continuously!

In the ga, as Pew and Gaz eliminated the forward enemies, the tense chase resud!

[Vulture: Six o'clock, enemies approaching!]

[Vulture: Need to hurry, target fleeing due north!]

[Vulture: Ten o'clock, enemy sniper deploying!]

Rat-tat-tat— rat-tat-tat—!!!

"Stop! Little Zakhaev!"

"Put your fucking hands up! Stop!"

"Stop you motherfucker!"

Rat-tat-tat—!!!

Intense gunfire crackled like popcorn in the narrow alley!

Thump!

Knocking down an enemy with his rifle butt, Pew pulled his pistol, finished off the downed enemy with two shots, then imdiately continued pursuit!

Before, he'd always wondered why police constantly shouted "Stop! Don't run! Hands up!" when chasing criminals.

Any idiot knows ruthless criminals won't obediently surrender!

But now.

Pew understood.

Such angry shouting isn't really ant to stop the criminal.

Loud pursuit serves both to intimidate the perpetrator and boost one's own morale.

Vociferous chasing is actually an effective thod to wear down the enemy's psychological defenses while making yourself braver.

Like right now—

Under constant angry shouts from him and instructor Gaz, the panicked Little Zakhaev actually beca desperate, ignoring the glass shards on an old apartnt building's wall, leaping up, brutally grabbing the glass shards, and savagely scaling the wall.

"Goddammit!"

Gaz cursed angrily, rushed forward in quick steps, leaned against the wall crouching into a horse stance, crossing his hands into a lifting gesture:

"Soap! After him!"

Pew didn't hesitate either, sprinted forward, stepped on Gaz's hands and leaped!

Slap!

The dense broken glass might work against bare hands, but against cut-resistant tactical gloves, it was nothing.

Pew grabbed the wall top and pulled himself up.

He saw Little Zakhaev turning a corner, fleeing toward the nearby dilapidated apartnt building.

However!

Pew, who should have pulled Gaz up, froze on the wall—

Four or five dark gun barrels were aid at him from the third-floor window facing the wall.

"Fvvvvvvvvvvk—!!!"

Zzz—BOOM BOOM BOOM—!!!

At the critical mont!

As Pew's eyes widened with terrified screams!

Just as enemy machine gun positions were about to fire, turning him into Swiss cheese!

The Vulture ard helicopter tracking them overhead finally attacked!

The rotary cannon instantly activated!

A dense bullet storm like laser guns swept across enemy firing positions!

The already dilapidated apartnt building wall erupted in thick dust clouds!

With bricks and debris flying everywhere!

Forget the enemies inside firing positions!

The entire third-floor exterior wall was completely shredded by the explosive bullet storm!

"Woooooooo0—Holy shit! Motherfucker you're so fucking badass—!"

Tily! Efficient! Fierce!

Pew thought the aerial support on the cargo ship in the initial level was thrilling enough!

Even later, after calling in fighter jets, Apaches, even personally operating AC-130 gunships, when no aerial support could excite him anymore!

Sa scenario, different critical mont!

Yet it could still make his blood boil, exclaiming this ga's imrsion and pacing were god-tier!

"Let's go! Instructor!"

Reaching down, Pew pulled Gaz onto the wall, both jumping down together, sprinting toward the apartnt building Little Zakhaev fled into!

Thump!

Rat-tat-tat!

Clang————

Rat-tat!

In the complex apartnt building with nurous corners and countless rooms!

Maybe the old Pew would be helpless facing this, too scared to enter properly.

But now, CQB was like second nature to him, deeply ingrained!

Because this wasn't just accumulated through rookie Soap's countless experiences, but also instructor Gaz's teachings, Sergeant Paul's wisdom, Captain Price's lead-by-example!

As sporadic gunfire and enemy screams echoed through the apartnt building!

Footsteps grew closer!

And Captain Price's voice ca through the earpiece!

[Captain Price: Soap! Rooftop! Little Zakhaev's heading for the roof! We're blocking him! He's trapped!!!]

THUMP—!!!!

With a loud bang!

Pew's sturdy combat boots kicked the rooftop door open!

Dashing out while aiming!

He saw Little Zakhaev at a dead end, cornered on the rooftop!

Above, two helicopters hovered!

Captain Price leading Marines rappelled down, slowly advancing toward Little Zakhaev!

Little Zakhaev, backed against the rooftop corner, aid his golden Desert Eagle at Price!

"Drop it! Drop your weapon!"

Instructor Gaz advanced with shotgun raised.

"Cooperate, we'll extradite you to Warsaw governnt!"

Price also advanced with 1911 aid at Little Zakhaev!

As everyone approached Little Zakhaev's disarm range!

Next mont.

"Don't even think about it."

Click!

!!!

The bullet shot from the golden Desert Eagle's barrel, instantly piercing through Little Zakhaev's jaw, exiting through his skull, carrying a stream of blood...

Once prosperous Chernobyl now lay desolate.

Southern Warsaw's originally peaceful remote town was now ravaged by continuous warfare.

Distant Middle East, 30,000 Marines forever buried in foreign land with violent nuclear explosions.

A long-brewing Sum of All Fears conspiracy ultimately evolved through intense confrontations into irreconcilable, bone-deep hatred!

[Our so-called leaders sold us out to the West... destroyed our culture... our economy... our honor...]

[Our blood flows on our land...]

[My bloodline... cut off by their hands...]

[You are invaders]

[Effective imdiately, all U.S. and British forces must withdraw from Warsaw]

[Otherwise...]

[You will pay the price!]

Situation critical!

Just as Pure Black, led by Captain Price, crossed the Altai Mountains, reaching the outskirts of Zakhaev's missile launch base located with full U.S.-British resources!

Less than one kiloter away from them!

A violent fla jet sound erupted!

Under the twilight sky!

Amid billowing intense flas!

One! Two! Three! Four! Five!...

Nearly ten intercontinental rockets launched thunderously under everyone's stunned gazes!

Like swords soaring skyward, their glow even more blinding than the setting sun!

As if splitting mountains and earth!

Like doomsday arrival!

As satellite map imagery appeared before them—

Manhattan, New York, Philadelphia, Washington, London, Manchester, Oxford, Nottingham...

Intercontinental rockets carrying countless nuclear warheads soared toward the sky.

Zakhaev, grieving his beloved son, had lost all reason!

He wanted the entire West to bury with his son!

A terrifying nuclear strike capable of destroying the entire Western Hemisphere, through real-ti calculation, transford into countless arrows piercing the sky, assaulting major European and Arican cities!