My Werewolf System

Chapter 1772  The Leader

Traveling through the pitch-black subway tunnels, the heavily armed group finally reached the surface, exiting out of the station nearest to the ruins of the old White Rose base.

It was still around a tense, grueling ten-minute walk through the open city before they would actually reach the perimeter of the facility. But what was even more worrying for them all was the terrifying fact that once they got close, there would surely be a number of Glutton Werewolves patrolling the area that could easily sniff out their human scent on the wind.

The group cautiously scouted ahead. The ruined streets looked deceptively clear for now, so they decided to press forward. However, rather than taking the exposed main streets and the conventional asphalt paths, they strategically chose to cut through the city's central park to use the dense tree cover to mask their approach.

The park used to boast quite a bit of beautiful greenery and manicured lawns. Or, at least, it did. Now, the entire area was a horrific graveyard, covered in the mutilated bodies of the dead. Thick pools of blackened, dried blood soaked into the soil in particular areas, marking exactly where the civilians had been dragged and slaughtered.

Seeing this massacre only fueled the group's burning thirst for vengeance even more. They gripped their rifles tighter. At the far edge of the park, there was a dense cluster of towering trees that almost felt like a wild forest.

This thick tree line marked the absolute edge of the park, situated right before one would reach the towering outer wall of the White Rose base. Of course, going through the park meant they weren't directly assaulting the facility from the heavily guarded front entrance, but a frontal assault was something they definitely didn't want to do anyway. It would be pure suicide.

Before they blindly stepped out of the tree line and into the open area, one of the men pulled out his smartphone. Using the digital camera, he started to heavily zoom in on the base from a safe distance to see exactly what they could find.

“Most of the original concrete wall was completely destroyed during the old riots, but not all of it,” the man explained in a hushed whisper, squinting at his cracked screen. “And where the solid wall is missing, they've erected a heavy metallic chain-link fence around the perimeter. But even then... some of the fence has been violently pushed over, and other reinforced parts have just been ripped apart like wet paper.”

As he looked closer, trying to focus the digital lens, he could clearly see the mound of rubble through some of the gaping holes in the fence. And scaling that jagged terrain, he could see the grotesque, hunched figures of the Glutton Werewolves actively moving about on patrol.

“I see them! I see the targets!” he whispered frantically.

“Exactly how many?” Korn asked, stepping up beside him and gripping his heavy RPG tight.

“From what I can see right now through the gaps alone, there has to be at least twenty of them actively prowling,” the scout replied, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. “But that’s just on this specific side of the compound.”

“That’s just a very small fraction of the entire facility,” the masked ex-Altered Hunter interjected smoothly from the shadows. “I would guess that there are well over a hundred of those monsters nesting in this immediate area alone. But remember, we have the distinct tactical advantage of distance today. We have heavy weapons that can rain fire from afar before they even know we're here.”

The Hunter pointed up at the thick, sturdy branches of the trees above them. “We climb. We take the high ground in the canopy to stay out of their immediate line of sight and mask our scent. And you, Korn... you use the scope on that launcher. You need to look out for the specific one that acts like their leader.”

“Even mindless beasts follow an Alpha,” the Hunter continued, his voice cold. “They have to be following someone's direct orders to have collectively gathered in one centralized place and call this ruined area their base. No matter what happens, we absolutely need to get rid of the head of the snake.”

Korn audibly gulped, the terrifying weight of the responsibility settling on his shoulders, but he firmly nodded in agreement. Almost the entire group slung their heavy assault rifles over their backs and started to carefully scale up the thick trunks of the trees. Although they weren't quite high enough up to see clearly over the remaining sections of the solid concrete wall...

...they could see perfectly over the rusted, wired fence that covered the large, gaping breaches in the perimeter.

The desperate group was finally ready in their elevated positions. Every single one of them was holding their breath, their fingers trembling slightly as they aimed their automatic weapons through the leaves. Everyone, including the Altered Hunter, was silently waiting for Korn to make the first, explosive move.

‘I just need to hit the right one... find the leader,’ Korn thought to himself, peering through the optical sight of the RPG. He scanned the restless horde of monsters. ‘Wait... is it that one?’ Out of all of the grotesque, elongated Glutton Werewolves that were mindlessly roaming about the rubble, there was one specific creature that stood out. It looked only slightly more muscular than the others in the pack.

It was roughly the same terrifying height as the rest of them, but other than being noticeably denser in muscle mass, there were other glaring differences that painted a target on its back.

The other ravenous monsters actively seemed to move away from this individual, giving it a wide berth as if they were inherently terrified of crossing its path. And bizarrely, for some inexplicable reason, this specific werewolf was still wearing the tattered remains of a bright, obnoxiously colored orange flowered shirt. The vibrant Hawaiian print made the beast stand out from a mile away against the gray rubble.

“That’s it. That one... that absolutely has to be the pack leader, right?” Korn whispered into his comms. “I’m going to take him out right now while he’s perfectly in my sights!”

Korn held his breath, keeping the crosshairs locked onto the orange shirt for a long moment, waiting for a clear shot.

The surrounding Werewolves were all just standing around, slowly moving through the ruins. But in reality, it didn't even matter if Korn technically missed a direct physical impact on his specific target. With military-grade high explosives, as long as he got the warhead somewhat close to the beast's feet, he was absolutely sure the concussive explosion and shrapnel would instantly kill the monster.

“I’ll take this ugly bastard out, and then you guys rain hell on the rest of them!” Korn commanded. He squeezed the trigger.

With a deafening, terrifying WHOOSH, the RPG launched violently from his shoulder.

The sheer backblast and recoil of the heavy weapon was slightly unexpected. Korn was thrown backward, nearly falling completely out of the high tree branches, but he managed to wrap his legs around the bark. He watched the rocket-propelled grenade flying perfectly through the air, trailing white smoke. It sailed seamlessly over the broken fence, heading right toward the mound of rubble, absolutely ready to obliterate the target in the orange shirt.

Until the unimaginable happened.

The Werewolf casually looked up at the incoming, supersonic grenade that had just been launched. Without panicking, the beast simply lifted up its large, clawed hand.

The live grenade hit the monster's open palm directly and immediately detonated.

BOOM! A , fiery explosion rocked the compound. The deafening shockwave could be felt all the way from where the survivors were hiding in the trees, and a thick, choking cloud of black smoke and dust instantly covered the entire area where the leader had been standing.

“YES!!! WE DID IT!!!!” Korn shouted at the top of his lungs, pumping his fist into the air.

The rest of the desperate survivors in the canopy started cheering wildly as well, feeling a surge of absolute, triumphant adrenaline. They had slain the beast.

Until, right out of the billowing black smoke, stepping forward completely and essentially unharmed, the Werewolf emerged. Its orange shirt was lightly singed, and its thick hand was smoking, but it wasn't dead. The beast locked its glowing eyes directly onto Korn's exact position in the trees.

It broke into a terrifying sprint, running aggressively across the jagged rubble. Then, with its impossibly strong, mutated legs, it leaped into the sky.

It effortlessly covered the distance of several hundred meters in a single, gravity-defying bound. The monster flew through the canopy and landed perfectly on the branch, violently tackling Korn directly out of the tree. The sheer force sent the heavy launcher spinning away as Korn was forced to crash brutally onto the hard forest floor below, the wind knocked completely out of his lungs.

The other survivors watched in absolute, paralyzed horror from the branches above as the snarling Werewolf landed heavily on top of Korn's chest. Before the man could even scream, the beast sank its , razor-sharp teeth directly into Korn’s exposed neck, violently ripping his throat out and killing him on the spot in a spray of crimson.

It was in that exact, blood-soaked moment that everyone truly realized the horrific reality of their situation. Even armed to the teeth with military-grade explosive weapons of the old world, these corrupted creatures simply weren't something that ordinary humans could ever hope to defeat. They were vastly outmatched.

“Oh god... what should we do?! What the hell should we do?!” one of the terrified men asked, his rifle shaking uncontrollably in his hands. He frantically turned his head, desperately trying to find the experienced, masked Altered Hunter for tactical guidance.

However, when he looked to the adjacent tree... the masked Altered Hunter was nowhere to be seen. He had completely vanished into the shadows, leaving them alone to be slaughtered, as if he knew what the result was going to be from the beginning.

**