This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 455.2: This SSSR-Rare God-Tier Pet MIGHT BE A LITTLE WRONG...

Chapter 455.2: This SSSR-Rare God-Tier Pet MIGHT BE A LITTLE WRONG...

Maybe he should take it around the outskirts of the city, let it learn to hunt, at least get an idea of where food came from.

Leading by example was always more effective than talking.

But Mosquito had clearly made up his mind. Gritting his teeth, he stormed over to the mech. “Damn it, I refuse to believe I can’t teach it! Watch this, I’ll demo it myself!”

He grabbed a crowbar, popped open the back hatch of the Destroyer Mark I, and climbed inside.

A dull clang rang out from within the metal can. “Do this! Crawl in, grab the handles, twist, and you enter...”

Before he could finish...

Click.

A latch locked into place. With a series of mechanical clunks, the back hatch sealed shut, and all the joints unlocked.

A chain reaction occurred. The Destroyer slowly tilted forward... Then began to topple.

Its arms shot forward like spring onions being planted, jamming into the mud, the torso folding in on itself in an M-shape, its head burying into the ground.

Seeing what had happened, Falling Feather was dumbstruck.

Meanwhile, Little Feather made a curious sound. “Yiwu.”

Falling Feather coughed lightly, “... Even if you can eat him now, you still shouldn’t. No eating people.”

Little Feather's tendrils drooped in disappointment.

“Yiwu...”

Weird...

It couldn’t talk, but somehow they could still communicate. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

But now wasn’t the time for that.

Falling Feather approached the fallen mech and shouted, “Hey, you still alive?”

There was a pause before a voice echoed out of the steel coffin. “... Damn, almost crashed me outta the game. Ahem... Yeah, I’m alive. Help me out.”

Falling Feather grabbed the mech’s shoulder and pulled with all his strength, but it didn’t budge.

Five or six tons was still a bit much for an agility type.

He tried prying the back open too, but it was sealed shut like it had been welded together.

Then came a weak voice from inside. “No use... when it’s in battle mode, the hatch is locked.”

Falling Feather snapped, “Then turn off battle mode!”

After a pause, Mosquito finally answered, “I gotta... Stand up first.”

Falling Feather tossed aside the crowbar and sighed, pulling out his VM to tap out a message. “Alright. I’ll just call Old White and the others.”

After marking the coordinates, Falling Feather left with Little Feather, heading toward the city’s fifth ring.

Because many new players were grinding nearby, and since Creepers produced nutrient paste and bioactive substances, the number of mutants in the northern outskirts had drastically decreased. To grind mobs, players had to head deeper into the city.

Originally, Falling Feather figured Little Feather was, after all, an SSSR-ranked, server-unique god-tier pet. It should at least help in combat a bit. So instead of wasting time in low-level areas, he locked onto an office building suspected of Creeper activity and stormed in with Little Feather.

According to the administrator, among all Mutant Slime Mold, Little Feather's favorite food was Creepers, followed by Tyrants.

The latter were tanky and hard to deal with, but Creepers were relatively manageable and still fairly common.

However, there was a problem.

Creeper activity zones were usually close to Hives. Besides Creepers, those areas were also crawling with Crunchers, Suicide Bombers, and even terrifying Tyrants.

As for Falling Feather, because he spent most of his time flying planes, training or deployed, he hadn’t fought in quite a while, much less in the city ruins.

Fighting mutated Slime Mold required a completely different approach compared to fighting marauders or mutated beasts.

Good aim wasn’t enough. They had to use the terrain and movement skills to avoid being swarmed by those Mutant Slime Molds.

If one got surrounded by a big enough group of Crunchers, even an awakener in an exoskeleton would have a rough time.

Falling Feather only had light weapons with him, and the moment he stepped into the office building’s ruins, he found himself in a brutal battle.

He nearly got blown up by a Suicide Bomber hiding in a corner.

Dodging the corrosive goo and sulfurous spore clouds, he barely found his footing when a Creeper charged at him.

“ARGHHHHH!”

The deafening roar echoed through the stairwell. Falling Feather quickly flipped his bayonet from his rifle and stabbed straight into the Creeper’s head.

His agility type genetic sequence made him faster than the beast and his blade stabbed right through the Creeper’s eye.

The creature howled in pain, black blood spraying everywhere.

Falling Feather rolled to the side, dodging the claws that smashed the floor before drawing his pistol. He aimed at the back of the Creeper’s head and pulled the trigger multiple times.

Bang, bang, bang!

The flashes lit the stairwell. As the smoke cleared, the Creeper finally slumped to the side and collapsed.

Panting heavily, Falling Feather holstered the pistol and walked over to pick up his rifle that was soaked in black goop.

“... Should’ve brought a team.”

Grinding in such a mob-dense dungeon was tough solo.

Seeing Little Feather peeking nervously from the stairwell exit, Falling Feather couldn’t help but mutter, “A little help here would’ve been nice!”

“Yiwu?” Little Feather tilted its head, whether it didn’t understand or was pretending not to was unclear.

But when it saw the dead Creeper lying on the stairs, its crimson eyes lit up.

“Yiwu!”

Without needing instructions, it pounced on the corpse and started munching away, stuffing its face joyfully.

Watching the little creature devour with such enthusiasm, Falling Feather couldn’t stay mad. He smiled and shook his head.

Forget it.

It’s just a young new pet...

Expecting it to solo bosses and beat down Old White from day one was unrealistic. Maybe he should be a little more patient and give it time to grow and adapt.

Imagining how this little guy would amaze everyone after it matured, Falling Feather slowly watched it as it ate.

He noticed that its slender waist moved up and down as it ate, everything it devoured seemed to be sent down to the skirt-like fungal mass around its lower half.

Is its stomach located in its lower body?

What a strange biology.

Come to think of it, it seemed like it had grown a little taller. Maybe a centimeter or so, but it wasn’t super noticeable.

Then, suddenly, Little Feather stopped eating and raised its head alertly, scanning the surroundings.

“Yiwu!”

Hearing its warning, Falling Feather’s expression shifted. He cocked his rifle and got ready.

Moments later, the sound of low, repressed growls grew louder, followed by rhythmic tremors, like a tsunami coming both from above and below the stairwell.

Crunchers!

A cold bead of sweat trickled down Falling Feather’s forehead.

There were at least a hundred... No, there were probably hundreds of them!

With no time to hesitate, he grabbed Little Feather by the arm and yanked it away from the Creeper’s corpse. “Run!”

...