"This is an absolute slaughter."
Nail thought sitting on the top of the tower, hands on his machine gun grip.
As long as the trigger was depressed, this steel weapon would keep spouting out the flames and shoot bullets toward the enemies. The position targeted by this weapon would be covered by a network of death; where all lives would become fragmented like fallen bowls from the table.
Being able to dominate the battlefield from such a high position left him feeling passionate.
So did his comrades in his team.
"The 66th! Look, that poor guy has been disintegrated."
"What're you counting? That's obviously the 68th!"
"Look over there, a guy is still rolling on the ground. Just kill him."
"His intestines have already spilled out, save your ammunition and let him slowly struggle!"
With a click, the fabric tape slipped down and another box of bullets had come to its end.
