Chapter 72: Elite SS
The figure that stood before him, draped in armor and emblazoned with the insignia of the SS, carried the formidable reputation of a sub-boss opponent. This opponent was on par with the Night Wolf, and Alan knew that any error in judgment could be his last.
Alan's experience in such high-stakes scenarios kicked in. Without a moment's hesitation, he swiftly drew his [Glock 17], aiming it with laser-like precision at the menacing figure before him. The narrow confines of the alleyway should have given him an advantage, making dodging near impossible for the SS soldier.
Yet, to Alan's astonishment, the soldier defied expectations. Displaying a level of agility unbefitting of his bulky armor, the SS soldier danced to and fro, sidestepping with grace, all while managing to aim and shoot his iconic Nazi sidearm, the [Luger]. Every movement was precise, every shot calculated. The echo of gunshots filled the confined space, with ricochets and muzzle flashes painting a scene of chaotic artistry.
The staccato rhythm of their firefight was unrelenting. Alan's Glock spat out its 9 rounds in rapid succession, while the soldier's Luger answered with its 8.
[Shooting: Inflicts 28 damage] [Shooting: Received 36 damage]
Dust and debris floated around them, marking the path of their deadly exchange. Alan, relying on his reflexes and marksmanship, managed to find his mark thrice, but not without taking two hits in return. It became evident to him that while their shooting skills might be on par, the soldier's armor and the potency of the Luger had given him an edge.
The distinct sound of empty chambers echoed through the alley, signaling that both their firearms had run dry. Without missing a beat, the SS soldier unsheathed a gleaming combat knife, its blade reflecting a murderous intent.
With a resounding clash, their blades met, creating sparks that lit up the dimly lit alley. From the very onset, the sheer force of the SS soldier's blow took Alan off-guard. He could feel the reverberations all the way up to his wrist, a clear indication that his Strength stat, classified as an E, was at a disadvantage against this foe. As they engaged further, even Alan's agility, ranked at D, seemed merely to match that of the SS soldier, making it difficult for Alan to gain an upper hand based solely on raw physical prowess.
However, what Alan might have lacked in brute force or speed, he more than compensated with skill and expertise. Years of training and countless battles had given him a deep understanding of combat mechanics. Recognizing the flow of the battle and sensing the rhythm of his opponent's movements, Alan waited for the perfect opportunity. With a quick step forward and a thrust of his blade, he executed a [Lunge Strike], piercing the soldier's armor and drawing first blood.
[Stabbing: Inflicts 28 damage]
But he wasn't done yet. Riding on the momentum of his initial attack, Alan swiftly transitioned into a [Power Strike], using the weight of his body and the full force of his swing to deal a more substantial blow.
[Stabbing: Inflicts 42 damage]
Yet, the SS soldier was no pushover. Almost immediately, he retaliated, his blade finding its mark on Alan's side, a stinging reminder of the soldier's lethal proficiency.
[Stabbing: received 26 damage]
[Status: Critical]
The pain was sharp and immediate, prompting Alan to rapidly assess his situation. His health was critically low, and in this perilous situation, he had to make a split-second decision. Reaching into his inventory, he retrieved one of his uncommon treasures, the [Blood Pack]. As he consumed it, a soothing sensation enveloped him, as his wounds began their rapid regeneration.
[Recover 80 Hp within 120 seconds]
Thanks to his [First Aid] skill, Alan received an additional boost, regaining a total of 88 health points over the span of two minutes. But he was keenly aware that this temporary respite was just that - temporary. The elite soldier, with a staggering health pool of 300 HP, was far from being out of the fight. And worse, the muffled footsteps echoing from a distance were a stark reminder that reinforcements were fast approaching.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. Alan knew he had to shift gears. As they continued their dance of steel, Alan spotted an opening. But instead of exploiting it with his sword, he had a different plan. In one fluid motion, he reached for his [sawed-off shotgun], aiming it squarely at the soldier's chest. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
BAM!!
The deafening blast echoed in the narrow alley, signaling a drastic change in the tide of battle.
The powerful blast from the sawed-off shotgun left a gaping hole in the elite soldier's armor. The sheer impact of the shot, combined with the focused energy it delivered, tore through his defenses.
[Shooting: Lethal shots Inflicts 102 damage]
Alan barely had time to process his actions when the game's interface notified him of his triumph.
[You have killed the elite soldier]
[You gained 800 XP and 400 survival points]
Exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Alan felt a mix of relief and triumph. The odds had been stacked against him, yet his quick thinking and adaptability had prevailed. However, his respite was short-lived. As he caught his breath, a shimmering green light caught his eye. Materializing from the vanquished foe's remains was a distinctive glowing box, pulsating with a mysterious energy.
[Uncommon Drop Box]
Curiosity piqued, Alan approached the box, cautiously opening it. Inside, nestled like a prized jewel, was a pristine firearm that immediately caught his attention.
[Name: Luger P08]
[Type: Weapon (small firearm)]
[Rarity: Uncommon]
[Attributes: Firepower 44-54 (50 meters), 38-42 (50-100 meters)]
[Magazine: 8 rounds (19mm)]
[Fire Rate: up to 4 rounds/ second]
[Effects: Bonus 20% damage against human]
[Able to Bring Outside the Game: No]
[Remarks: Pistols that played pivotal roles in world massacres]
Recognizing its worth, Alan could barely contain his glee. This new weapon was a significant upgrade from what he had been using. But before he could fully appreciate his new acquisition, the ominous sound of marching boots and muffled orders disrupted his moment.
Reacting instinctively, Alan wheeled around just in time to see a squad of soldiers pouring into the alley, guns blazing. His fingers quickly found the grip of the Luger, responding in kind as he retreated, letting loose a hail of bullets to keep them at bay. But in the narrow confines of the alley, avoiding incoming fire was next to impossible. One, then another bullet tore into his side, slowing him but not stopping his determined escape.
Emerging onto the broader street, the cacophony of battle surrounded him. Soldiers poured out from the alley, their numbers overwhelming. Each step was a dance with death, Alan shooting, dodging, and counting his shots. The Luger's power was evident, but its limited magazine became a glaring weakness.
In the thick of the fight, one figure emerges the other SS elite soldier, ready with his big machine guns to finish him off.
To his surprise, a sharp crack pierced the air, and the SS officer's head snapped back, sending him crumpling to the ground. The battlefield fell silent for a fraction of a second.
Another shot echoed. Another soldier dropped, a bullet through the head. And then another.
Alan instinctively tried to find the origin of the shots. His senses picked up a faint reflection from a building in the distance. The glint of a scope. A female in baseball cap. It was Rose, the player he saw at the training ground.