"This ability is too strong. If there's a war in the future and I'm given a gun, I could kite an entire regiment to death by myself, and they wouldn't even touch my clothes with a bullet."
Steve looked at the excited soldiers and interrupted them with a smile.
"We can talk about war later. The current mission is to move bricks."
Steve waved his hand, projecting a massive resource distribution map into everyone's minds.
"A clever housewife cannot cook without rice. Although we have blueprints and manpower, there isn't even a single piece of wood in the warehouse right now."
"Everyone, listen up."
"Using your instantaneous movement mobility, split up by squad."
"Start chopping trees, mining stones, killing monsters, and gathering materials for me."
"Within one hour, I want to see this plain piled high with basic materials."
"Yes!!!"
Three thousand Endermen acknowledged the order in unison.
The next moment, a spectacular scene unfolded.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh
All the Endermen instantly vanished from where they stood.
Immediately afterward, in the distant forest.
Thousands of black hands were frantically grabbing a block of wood and running away at extremely high speed.
The once dense Oak Forest was disappearing piece by piece at a visible rate.
Small hilltops were rapidly leveled.
Was this even a construction team?
This was clearly a swarm of block-shaped locusts with teleportation abilities.
Wherever they passed, not a blade of grass remained; everything became a resource.
Steve, floating in the air, watched the chests being frantically opened and continuously stuffed with materials on the plain, his lips curling into a wild grin.
"That's right."
"This is the speed I wanted."
...
Afternoon
As the last rays of the setting Daniels scattered across the blocky land, the once empty and desolate plain had completely changed its appearance.
If an old-school Overworld player were to enter this place right now, their jaw would surely drop.
Within sight, there were no longer messy weeds and trees, but colossal industrial beasts rising from the ground.
To the east was a stacked Iron Farm Tower that soared into the clouds.
The sizzling sound of lava burning the Iron Golems and the clink of iron ingots dropping intertwined.
Countless Redstone Machines stood all around.
And in the very center of the base was a massive storage center.
"Director, Storage Area One is full."
"Storage Area Two is overflowing with iron ingots."
"Oak wood reserves have reached two hundred chests."
Steve floated in mid-air, listening to the constant reports, and looking at the chests below, each stuffed to the brim, a sense of indescribable satisfaction welled up in his heart.
This was the power of the military industrial complex.
In just one afternoon, three thousand Enderman combat engineers with teleportation abilities had forcibly created an inexhaustible resource fortress in this virtual world.
"Alright, the demonstration phase is over."
Steve glanced at the time and issued an order in the mental channel.
"Engineering troops, cease operations and rest where you are."
"Now, it's time for our sharp sword to be unsheathed."... Ten minutes later, at the base's core plaza.
As Steve's thought moved, the gates of the prepared Monster Barracks opened.
The monsters previously filtered through the Mob Spawner Tower mechanism were teleported onto the plaza by Steve using administrator privileges.
Roar!
For a moment, the plaza was filled with the roars of monsters.
Five hundred Zombies, three hundred Skeletons.
"Consciousness Descent, activate."
Steve gave the command.
In the real world, the elites of the First Special Operations Brigade, who had long been waiting in their hibernation pods, instantly completed the connection.
The monsters, who had been aimlessly wandering with dull expressions, suddenly stiffened.
The next second.
Swish!
Five hundred Zombies turned their heads simultaneously, and three hundred Skeletons raised their hands simultaneously.
The chaos in their eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling discipline.
They no longer issued meaningless roars but quickly formed neat phalanxes according to squad and platoon formations!
A group of blocky Zombies, dressed in tattered blue short sleeves and sporting greenish skin, actually stood in parade-ground military posture.
This scene was both absurd and permeated with a sense of deadly solemnity.
At the same time, a beam of teleportation light illuminated the edge of the plaza.
Experts from the Military Industry Department entered with the first batch of rushed, magically modified equipment.
"Quick, quick, time is tight."
An old expert in charge of the equipment directed logistics personnel, pushing cartloads of supplies toward the Zombie phalanx.
"The current equipment is only adapted to the Zombie physique. Let's start by changing the Zombies' gear."
Following this, a shocking scene began.
Several logistics soldiers ran up to a Zombie soldier.
"Soldier, lower your head."
The Zombie soldier obediently lowered its square green head.
Click.
A specialized tactical helmet with a square inner lining was securely fastened onto the Zombie's head.
The helmet was mounted with a tactical flashlight and an HD camera on the side, instantly giving this rustic Zombie a cyberpunk feel.
"Put on the bulletproof vest."
An extra-large tactical vest was fitted onto the Zombie. Although they didn't need bulletproofing, the vest was mainly for mounting magazines, grenades, and communication radios.
"Here comes the most crucial part: take the gun."
The old expert personally carried a strangely shaped black rifle and walked over.
This gun eliminated the traditional grip and trigger, featuring a huge square sleeve at the butt.
The Zombie soldier extended its bare, green block arm, aimed at the sleeve, and forcefully inserted it.
A crisp mechanical locking sound rang out.
The firearm was perfectly locked onto the arm.
The Zombie soldier tried swinging its arm; the gun remained motionless, as if it were a natural extension of its body.
It tentatively pressed the block surface of its palm against the pressure-sensing plate inside the gun body.
Hiss.
The tactical indicator light on the gun instantly turned green—a signal that the safety was off and it was ready to fire.
"Perfect."
The old expert excitedly slapped his thigh.
"This is the effect we wanted: the arm is the gun, and the gun is the arm."
In just half an hour.
All five hundred Zombies completed the gear change.
Now, they were no longer the low-level mobs in the original Overworld that only served as cannon fodder.
They wore tactical helmets, donned anti-riot armor, had large-caliber rifles attached to their arms, carried TNT explosive packs on their backs, and even had military bone-conduction headphones hanging near their ears.
This was a modern Undead Mechanized Legion... General Randy and Steve stood on the review platform, looking at this army that had never appeared in human history.
"Randy, even after seeing it many times, it still feels unbelievable."
Steve exclaimed.
"If we deploy them, they'd scare the opposition senseless."
General Randy took a deep breath, suppressed the excitement in his heart, and strode up to the microphone.
"Attention, everyone. Stand at ease."
Boom!
Five hundred fully armed Zombies moved in perfect unison, causing the ground to shake thrice.
General Randy's gaze was sharp as he looked at the monsters.
"Soldiers, your current appearance might be a bit ugly, a bit strange."
"But in my eyes, and in the eyes of the country, you are still the most handsome soldiers."