The players, having shed their heavy gear, moved lightly. Through physical reconnaissance, they quickly confirmed Robert's speculation: the outer defenses had indeed been abandoned by the genestealer cult.
They advanced, and the meticulously camouflaged tripwires and directional mines appeared so fragile in the face of the players' ability to resurrect.
Without the worry of equipment damage, many players simply rolled through — not bothering to search, not caring if there might be traps. They simply triggered all the traps everywhere, and then the area naturally became safe.
Facts proved that this method of using lives to clear mines was extremely effective. The purpose of setting traps was to force enemies to spend time searching carefully, fearing sudden death. But the Helldivers were not afraid of death at all!
Leveraging their resurrection advantage, the players used a sweeping action to clear out all the traps that would have originally delayed a large force for several hours.
Kyle, who had retreated deep into the factory, watched all this through surveillance footage. He had originally thought the trap array would delay the enemy for at least half a day, but it didn't even last an hour before these bizarre Astra Militarum cleared it out with their lives.
Kyle felt a chilling cold. Perhaps he had made a wrong decision just now. These guys, brainwashed by the Corpse Emperor, simply didn't care about sacrifice.
Their disregard for death was beyond Kyle's comprehension. But regardless, the decision had been made, and all the cult members had retreated into the factory.
"Anyway, I've reported the situation, and reinforcements are on their way," Kyle muttered to himself, pinning his hopes on the distant reinforcements.
After the outer defenses were cleared, Robert did not rush to advance. He ordered the Fourth Squad to conduct a probing bombardment of the factory ahead.
Wyvern shells whistled down onto the factory's steel outer walls, making dull thudding sounds. However, apart from the sparks and churning dust, the massive factory complex remained motionless, and not even a single enemy body dislodged by the explosion was found.
Robert abandoned the plan for further bombardment. Clearly, there was a reason for the genestealers to retreat inside this factory. This also reconfirmed Robert's conjecture — the enemy was measuring them by the same standards they used to measure the remaining Imperial forces on this planet.
The enemy believed manpower was their fatal flaw and wanted to deter these Helldivers with high casualties.
"Being too clever for their own good," Robert thought to himself.
If the enemy had remained steadfast on the outer defense line, then with the high commendation cost of Wyvern shells, Robert's commendations probably wouldn't have lasted until the entire outer line was broken. But now, the enemy had abandoned the outer defenses and retreated into the factory.
High-casualty urban warfare, for players with the advantage of infinite resurrection, was instead a good place to earn commendations. The Helldivers would only grow stronger with each battle.
The players surged into the factory's steel gates almost without hesitation. The heavy gate had been deliberately left open by the genestealers, as if silently inviting these Astra Militarum into their lair. And the players, too, gladly accepted the invitation. They knew this would be a tough fight, but for the Helldivers, a tough fight meant more commendations.
As soon as they stepped through the gate, the first gunshot tore through the silence of the steel complex. It came from a narrow corridor on the flank of the entrance hall, where several genestealers were ambushed around a corner.
Their automatic guns were crude in appearance but powerful enough, instantly riddling the three players at the very front.
Faced with the sudden attack, the players reacted almost instinctively. The moment the gunfire erupted, they ducked, simultaneously dropping to the ground to fire and suppress while looking for the nearest cover.
Containers and abandoned machinery became their temporary shields. Bullets and laser beams crisscrossed the air, striking metal walls with sharp clangs and sending sparks flying.
"Damn it! These bastards!" A recently resurrected player cursed as he steadied himself beside his squad leader. Without much hesitation, he raised his hand and threw a fragmentation grenade at the corner that had previously caused him trouble.
The grenade arced through the air, landing precisely deep in the corner. As the crisp kill notification and roaring explosion sounded in his ears, he smugly patted his backside, thinking the problem was solved.
"Alright, problem solved..." Before he could finish his sentence, a cover on a ventilation duct in the ceiling above was suddenly violently ripped open, and a genestealer, like a predatory spider, leaped down from it, its movements incredibly agile.
Its black claws, carrying a gust of wind, pierced the player's abdomen the moment it landed. The intense pain stiffened the player's body, but the battlefield-honed reflexes left him no hesitation.
He counter-attacked with a swift stab, plunging his combat knife deep into the genestealers' head. The next second, both melted away under the concentrated fire of other players who had reacted.
However, the player resurrected again beside his squad leader a few seconds later; the genestealers, on the other hand, was completely reduced to ash, dead forever.
After a fierce exchange of fire and several cycles of death and resurrection, the players finally cleared the immediate threats in the entrance hall. As the gunfire gradually subsided and the smoke cleared, they realized that this hall was much more complex than they had imagined, with several passages seemingly leading to different places, dark, deep, and full of unknowns.
"What now, split up?" one player asked hesitantly, looking at the deep passages.
"In horror movies, splitting up usually leads to digging graves..." another player replied with a hint of sarcasm, evidently recalling some classic tropes.
"What's there to be afraid of? Do those death-seeking idiots in horror movies have laser guns and bayonets?"
Just as the players were discussing and debating, captain Robert, from a safe zone, issued his orders via walkie-talkie: "Start the assault by splitting up. Too many people crammed into one place will hinder movement and make it easy for the enemy to surround us. Squad leaders, pay attention to your own safety.
As long as the squad leader doesn't die, team members can resurrect on the spot. This way, even if there's a shortage of manpower, it won't be too severe. Each squad chooses its own passage, proceed with extreme caution!"
"Received, captain!"
"Yes, Commander!"
"Understood, Commissar!"
"For the liberation!"
"For managed democracy!"
"Yes, sir!"
Various responses echoed, making the communication channel exceptionally lively. One player couldn't help but mutter under his breath: "Our company composition is a bit complex..."