The Promised Land

The system’s rigid mechanical tone had transformed into the sweetest symphony in my ears.

I clenched my fist.

A faint layer of pure white aura coated my skin.

Inside me, broken bones popped and locked back into place as my body healed itself at hyperspeed.

Wherever I walked, the alien gas within a five-meter radius split open like it had met its natural apex predator.

Rustle...

Suddenly, heavy metal grinding against concrete echoed from the rubble ahead.

Two alien Marauders, standing well over two meters tall in matte-black armor, raised their plasma spears.

Their crimson compound eyes locked onto my position through the fog.

In their eyes, I was just a discarded piece of human meat, a defenseless sacrificial lamb.

Two charged spears whistled through the air, thrusting simultaneously from the left and right, aiming straight for my heart.

If I were still David the former military medic from ten minutes ago, I would be a corpse.

But now?

I merely raised my hands. I didn't even bother to dodge.

I let the high-voltage plasma tips slam dead into my chest.

With a deafening metallic screech, the spears hit the white light on my skin—and instantly shattered into splinters.

Before the two alien Marauders could even process the shock in their bulging eyes, the light energy inside me erupted like a volcano. It formed two blazing blades of pure radiance, sweeping clean through their necks without a shred of resistance.

Foul black blood sprayed the walls.

Their massive bodies crashed to the dirt.

Looking into their terrified, lifeless eyes, I shook my head.

The day they invaded this planet, they should have prepared for this exact moment.

I looted their high-energy cells and alien alloy blades.

Following my radar's guidance, I sliced through a few scattered mutants along the way, finally stopping before the gates of the abandoned Ford Industrial Base.

The steel walls rose ten meters high.

They were covered in moss and bullet holes, but the core structure was perfectly intact.

I raised my hand and channeled my light energy straight into the base’s central power grid.

With a deep hum, the long-dormant air purification system roared to life, spinning at maximum capacity.

White rings of light rippled through the ventilation pipes.

Within seconds, the toxic gas within a one-kilometer radius was completely purged.

As I patrolled the scorched defense perimeter outside, a faint groan caught my attention.

Underneath an overturned armored vehicle lay a middle-aged man, drenched in blood.

An alien carapace had ripped his chest wide open.

The wound was already turning black and rotting.

I recognized that face. Wyatt. The brutal warlord of the Detroit Raiders.

Three months ago, to steal a shipment of meds, he had personally strangled two of our bunker’s scouts.

He was also the bastard who had severely broken my left arm.

【WARNING: Moribund human detected. Host must administer aid within 10 seconds. Failure to comply will result in immediate termination.】

The system’s damn forced prompt crashed down again.

Without a second thought, I stepped forward.

I pressed my palm flat against Wyatt’s gory chest.

A thick, concentrated wave of healing white light surged from my hand.

The divine power brutally purged every drop of alien toxin from his veins.

Fresh muscle tissue began weaving and stitching together at a visible pace.

A brief, insignificant drop in my energy grid completely reversed Wyatt’s fatal injuries.

The moment his breathing stabilized, his eyes—filled with raw violence and paranoia—snapped open.

Wyatt glared at me, his pupils shaking violently.

He clearly knew exactly who I was.

Yet, amidst his heavy panting, his right hand was already slithering toward his lower back.

Shielded by the dead leaves on the ground, his fingers gripped a wicked bone dagger dripping with emerald poison.

The veins on the back of his hand bulged.