Inside the Command Center, General Randy, Steve, and the others also witnessed this scene clearly.
"Technical Team, has the analysis report been completed?"
General Randy shouted at the technical staff beside him.
On the screen in front of the technical staff member, the footage of the recent sniper shot was being replayed in extreme slow motion, at one-thousandth speed.
"Reporting, Commander, the preliminary analysis results are out."
The technician adjusted his headphones and reported quickly.
"According to the model calculations, the neural reaction speed and muscle explosive speed of this variant have completely surpassed the muzzle velocity of conventional rifle bullets, which is why it was able to perform evasive and blocking maneuvers."
"As for the sniper round, because our firing distance exceeded one kilometer, it gave it more than zero point several seconds of reaction time, allowing it to evade preemptively."
"What is the conclusion?"
General Randy pressed.
"The conclusion is."
"Its maximum reaction speed is not faster than the speed of the bullet itself. We recommend that all snipers use Teleportation to instantly move within a hundred meters of the target to perform zero-delay sniping. At this distance, the bullet's flight time will be lower than its neural reaction limit."
"Good."
General Randy immediately grabbed the communicator.
"Morris, receiving the Headquarters' analysis report. Immediately organize the snipers to execute the hundred-meter extreme Teleportation kill."
"All snipers, listen up."
Morris's voice, transmitted via communication, instantly echoed in the ears of all the snipers.
"Prepare, begin close-range sniping."
"Yes, sir."
Without the slightest hesitation, the forty Shadow Marine snipers simultaneously performed an unbelievable action the moment they received the order.
They put away their heavy, specialized sniper rifles—weapons that could almost be called cannons—as if they were swallowed by something invisible.
This was a convenience granted to them by Steve, originating from the Minecraft World: the Inventory, which could only store personal equipment.
The next moment.
Whoosh!
Forty plumes of purple smoke instantly teleported from all directions of the urban ruins toward the rapidly moving Mutated Zombie.
Their target was precisely the hundred-meter radius death zone centered around that zombie.
However, the Mutated Zombie's combat instinct was extremely sharp.
The moment it sensed intense energy fluctuations from the surrounding space, its scarlet eyes narrowed abruptly, and instead of panicking from being surrounded,
it let out a sharp roar, changed direction, and actively charged toward one of the newly formed purple smoke points.
Fast.
Its speed was extreme.
Almost the instant the sniper completed the teleportation and his figure solidified from a blur, the Mutated Zombie's silhouette had already crossed nearly a hundred meters and appeared before him.
The soldier's pupils contracted sharply. He saw it.
He saw the cold, gleaming sharp claw rapidly magnifying before his eyes—he could even clearly see the dried black blood stains clinging to it.
He wanted to teleport.
His brain had already issued the command.
But it was too late.
Under such terrifying speed suppression, his neural reaction speed was ultimately slower by those crucial zero point several seconds that determined life and death.
Pfft!
A dull sound of a sharp weapon piercing flesh.
That indestructible sharp claw easily pierced the seemingly tough body of the Enderman, passing straight through his chest.
The purple light in the soldier's eyes instantly dimmed and extinguished.
His body slumped powerlessly.
"Hawkeye No. 3, KIA."
The Observer's report sounded in the communication channel.
At the same time.
Fortress, Link Center.
Thousands of silver-white hibernation pods were neatly lined up.
The moment Hawkeye No. 3 was killed, the indicator light on one of the hibernation pods instantly changed from blue, signifying 'linked', to red, signifying 'disconnected'.
Accompanied by a slight depressurization sound, the transparent hatch of the hibernation pod slowly opened.
A young soldier suddenly sat up, gasping heavily for air, his face as pale as paper, his forehead covered in fine cold sweat.
"Quick, Hibernation Pod 173 has lost its link. Medical Team, move forward immediately."
Medical staff who were already on standby immediately rushed over, pushing a mobile medical bed.
"How do you feel? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?"
A doctor quickly checked his vital signs while placing an oxygen mask on him.
"I, I'm fine..."
The soldier's voice was weak.
"It's just... I feel like my mental energy was instantly drained. I'm very tired..."
The commanding officer quickly walked over. After glancing at the data displayed on the medical equipment, he confirmed that the soldier's body had no physical damage, but his mental energy fluctuations were abnormally intense, and he was currently in a state of extreme exhaustion.
"Quickly, take him to the medical room for in-depth examination and psychological counseling. Record all data."
"Yes, sir."
The medical staff quickly moved to carry the soldier away.
Throughout the process, the Commander's expression was unusually solemn.
Although his body was unharmed, this kind of soul-level death experience was undoubtedly a huge psychological shock.
While the combat power of this unit was godlike, psychological health was likely a key issue requiring future attention.
World Zeta.
The battle continued.
The death of Hawkeye No. 3 did not make the Shadow Marine Unit retreat; instead, it ignited a more fervent killing intent within them.
However, the situation on the battlefield fell into a stalemate.
Hundreds of Enderman soldiers tenaciously pursued the Mutated Zombie, engaging in a fierce chase.
They continuously teleported, fired, and teleported again, attempting to overwhelm it with concentrated firepower.
But the Mutated Zombie's speed and reaction were simply too fast. In complex terrain like the ruins, it always found blind spots in the barrage, constantly weaving and evading.
And as soon as any sniper attempted to teleport within a hundred meters of it, they would immediately face its counterattack.
Two more snipers, failing to grasp the timing of their teleportation appearance, were torn apart by the lightning-fast black shadow the moment they materialized.
"Damn it."
Morris appeared on the broken wall of a building, watching the figure that was continuously causing carnage in the distance, his jaw tightly clenched.
"We can teleport close to it, but there's absolutely no time to draw, aim, and fire."
"That zero point several seconds of stiffness is the fatal flaw."
His brain was working at high speed.
What should be done? What exactly should be done?
For a monster that relies purely on reaction and speed, conventional tactics are useless.
There must be technological intervention.
A technology capable of surpassing the limits of human reaction.
Auto-aiming?
What is needed is a weapon that is extremely fast and capable of autonomous targeting and attack.
A thought instantly flashed through his mind.