A long tongue suddenly lashed out from behind Lear's head.
It was a Licker, and there was more than one.
With the wind howling behind his head, Lear instinctively dove to the side, narrowly dodging the lethal blow. The Licker's tongue grazed his cheek, bringing with it a thick, nauseating stench of rot and blood as the gust of its passage whipped across his face.
Lear spun around to see three Lickers clinging to the walls of the Main Hall in a triangular formation, their talons embedded deep into the masonry. Occupying three different directions, they and the Tyrant in front of him had effectively surrounded him.
Judging by their stance, these monsters had slipped into the Main Hall long ago and remained in hiding until now. Had the Tyrant not been on the verge of destruction, they likely would have continued to wait, biding their time until he showed a fatal opening before swarming him.
Seeing this, Lear was forced to temporarily abandon his assault on the Tyrant. He retreated quickly to the second floor corridor, barely managing to keep himself on eye level with the Lickers on the walls.
But at that moment, the Tyrant stopped hesitating. Its thick legs kicked off the ground as it swung its massive claws, charging straight at Lear with savage force.
Lear scrambled to dodge the Tyrant's charge while simultaneously staying alert for sneak attacks from the Lickers above. Pushed to his limits and struggling to cope with the multi-directional assault, he gradually began to lose ground.
Shit, give me a break! One Tyrant was hard enough, and now three Lickers? What, did they suddenly learn how to play as a team?!
But a second later, he forced down his frustration and calmed his mind.
No, this wasn't right. Both the Tyrant and the Lickers were B.O.W.s. Theoretically, one relied on instinct while the other followed pre-set programming; they shouldn't be capable of such coordination. And yet...
Lear's eyes swept over the Lickers as they waited for an opening, and his gaze suddenly froze.
In the center of the exposed brain of one of the Lickers, he clearly saw a miniature device blinking with a red light.
A monitor?
Someone had to be remotely monitoring and controlling them. It was the only way to explain the eerie coordination between the two types of monsters.
The monitor was mounted on the Licker rather than the Tyrant, which meant the Tyrant either didn't have one or its device had been destroyed. Recalling the fierce battle he'd just had with the Tyrant, Lear leaned toward the latter.
I have to destroy it. Otherwise, even if I kill the Tyrant, this thing will keep following me.
The thought flashed through his mind, and a ruthless glint appeared in Lear's eyes. He stopped focused solely on evading the Tyrant's pursuit and instead spun around, charging headlong toward the monster.
The Lickers behind him took the bait exactly as expected. To cut off his retreat, two of them immediately lunged after him.
"Smart bastards!" Lear cursed under his breath.
The moment his dash brought him right in front of the Tyrant, he suddenly changed direction and vaulted over the railing of the second floor.
The Tyrant's massive claw was already mid-swing and had too much momentum to stop. It slammed down, pinning the closest Licker to the floor and crushing it instantly.
Lear landed firmly on the ground. He looked up at the one Licker that had remained stationary, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he beckoned it with a finger.
The Licker clinging to the wall didn't seem provoked by Lear's taunt, but the other surviving one lunged down from the second floor once again, intent on the kill. "Fine, if you won't come down, I'll help you," Lear muttered, a ruthless glint in his eyes. He snatched the typewriter off the front desk and hurled it with everything he had at the one on the wall.
He didn't expect a single hit to knock it down; he just needed to disrupt the rhythm of their pincer attack.
In the next instant, without even checking if he'd hit his mark, Lear spun around and unleashed a powerful kick at the Licker leaping toward him.
Holy crap?
Even Lear was stunned. He had only intended to kick the creature off course, but the force behind the strike far exceeded his expectations. The Licker was sent flying through the air, crashing hard beneath a statue on the second floor.
This unexpected surge of explosive power gave Lear an idea.
He immediately began to limp as if his leg were dislocated, dragging his feet toward the police station main gate with a pathetic, struggling gait.
The Licker on the wall, the one carrying the monitor, still hesitated, choosing not to strike immediately. The Tyrant, however, didn't share that caution and charged down from the second floor.
Lear forcibly suppressed his instinct to dodge, only shifting his body slightly to avoid the claws. He took the full force of the Tyrant's shoulder tackle, which sent him slamming into a pillar. His mind went blank for a heartbeat before a metallic taste filled his mouth. It felt as though his internal organs had been jolted out of place, and he spat a mouthful of fresh blood onto the floor.
This wretched state finally convinced the Licker on the wall to lower its guard.
It still didn't pounce down completely, but instead lashed out with its long tongue, thrusting it toward Lear like a sharp arrow.
The moment the tongue arrived, Lear's slumped head snapped up.
A cold, mocking smile was burned into the crimson lens of the monitor.
He didn't dodge. Instead, he reached out and snatched the Licker's tongue, pulling with a violent surge of strength that yanked the entire creature off the wall before swinging it around wildly.
The Tyrant had just steadied itself from its charge when it turned to find a skinless mass of flesh flying straight at its face.
The massive impact caused even the hulking Tyrant to stumble back a step.
Lear didn't let go of the tongue, nor did he reach for his gun. He used the momentum of the swing to follow through, and while the Tyrant was off-balance, he lunged behind it. He wound the tongue tightly around the Tyrant's neck and yanked back with a lethal choke.
The Tyrant, built like a fortress of iron, crashed heavily to the ground.
Using the momentum of the fall, Lear pinned the creature down with a foot.
The Tyrant instinctively raised its left hand—now equipped with only a single sharp claw—to stab at him.
Lear banked his body to avoid the tip of the claw, grabbed the arm, and tightened his grip. With a sickening crunch of muscle and bone, he ripped the entire arm clean out of its socket.
If Lear could have seen himself at that moment, he would have been horrified. His muscles were taut and bulging, his eyes were bloodshot, and blood was beginning to seep through the skin of his arms and his chest where his clothes were torn.
The Tyrant seemed momentarily stunned by this sudden display of raw power and failed to retaliate with its right hand.
"You like to watch, don't you? I'll give you a damn front-row seat!"
Lear let out a beastly roar.
He grabbed the severed arm and stabbed it into the Tyrant's exposed heart, twisting it violently.
Lear could see that while the Tyrant's eyes remained eerily calm, its struggles were growing weaker.
Lear didn't stop there. He reached out with one hand and grabbed the still-twitching Licker nearby. He dragged it to the wall, gripped its head, and slammed it against the masonry over and over again until the skull was completely pulverized.
Once it was finished, Lear's strength abandoned him, and he collapsed heavily to the ground.
The world spun, his vision began to fade into black, and he lacked even the strength to lift a finger.
After a few moments of gasping for air, he pressed his palms to the floor, trying to use the wall for support to stand. But just then, a high-pitched, tearful cry rang out from behind him:
"Brother Lear! Watch out!"
Before the words could fully register, a sharp, piercing pain exploded in his side.
Lear didn't even have time to turn around before he felt something skewering his body.
Forcing his last ounce of strength, he looked back. The Licker he had kicked toward the second floor had somehow crawled back down in total silence.
What had pierced through him was that blood-stained, elongated tongue.
The string of brutal battles had completely drained Lear of every bit of stamina. He could no longer hold himself up, and his body slumped to the floor.
As his vision blurred, the last thing he saw was Sherry rushing toward him recklessly, while Marvin's enraged roar and a hail of gunfire echoed in his ears.
A second later, Lear's consciousness fell into total darkness.
(Translated by yourtl.app)