Roberts was startled and tried to stop him.
But when he opened his mouth, he couldn't come up with a single eloquent word to stop Gates.
Because his own heart was already filled with despair!
Every day, I drink unpalatable nutritional supplements, sit in this tiny space, and can see countless terrifying mutated creatures roaming outside as soon as I open my eyes.
This is worse than being in jail.
Fortunately, they don't need to excrete nutrients, so they live relatively clean lives.
But what's the point of living like this, living here?
It's so boring.
It would be better to die and be done with it.
In fact, Roberts had also considered ending her life.
But he was ultimately too timid.
After having suicidal thoughts, he convinced himself to stay.
Ultimately, they dared not take that step.
At that moment, Gates bravely pulled out a pistol, pointed it at himself, and was about to pull the trigger.
Roberts couldn't think of better words to persuade him, but she managed to utter a single, hoarse word: "No!"
He reached out and pressed down on the gun in Gates' hand.
"If you're really going to die, you might as well grab a gun and charge out of here; you might still have a chance to survive."
Gates shook his head: "It's impossible for us to survive. We can't get out of this area full of mushrooms. There are already countless mutated creatures parasitized here."
The mutated creatures roaming outside are merely guardians protecting this place.
And inside the giant mushroom, who knows how many mutated creatures are lurking.
If they rush out, not to mention whether they can defeat the wandering mutated creatures, will the mutated creatures inside the giant mushroom let them leave?
These giant mushrooms must have been born intelligent, capable of organizing all the parasitized mutated organisms.
Just like an army that obeys orders without question.
Once such an army takes action, how can lone humans like them survive?
Let alone a single person, even if all of them were mobilized at their temporary base more than ten kilometers away, they still couldn't do anything about these mutated creatures.
Not to mention the two of them who were alone.
Roberts knew all this too.
He knew this, of course, but at that moment he didn't know what better words to use to advise Gates, so this was all he could say.
He didn't think Gates could break through.
Facing mutated creatures is more difficult than facing suicide.
He committed suicide by shooting himself, in the blink of an eye.
As for mutated creatures, they represent unknown fears for humans. How the mutated creatures will kill him is unknown; perhaps they will slowly tear him apart in agony and let him die in torment.
The cabin returned to calm.
Gates did not attempt suicide again, and Roberts breathed a sigh of relief.
After a long while, Gates began to speak again.
"You're right. It's better to go outside and fight those monsters than to commit suicide. At least I can be a hero instead of a coward who commits suicide!"
Roberts stared wide-eyed at Gates.
Gates is serious!
As Gates spoke, his emotions gradually became agitated, and his expression turned ferocious.
It was as if they had mustered up their courage.
He roared, "I'll fight you to the death!"
As he spoke, Gates opened the cabin door and leaned out.
They pulled out the Gatling gun from the cabin and started firing wildly.
"Da da da da..."
Roberts stared dumbfounded at Gates, who looked like he'd gone mad.
These days have been so hopeless and depressing.
They need an outlet.
That's exactly what Gates did.
When despair reaches its extreme, one goes mad.
At this moment, Roberts didn't care about anything else and immediately picked up his pistol, ready to fight at any time.
"Da da da da..."
Gatling fired wildly in all directions, and under the relentless firepower of the Gatling gun, not a single mutated creature could get close for a time.
However, Gatling guns have a limited number of bullets.
The mutated creatures that are parasitized nearby seem to be endless.
Even with the Gatling gun's powerful firepower, which eliminated several mutated creatures, many more were attracted by the noise of the Gatling gun.
The Gatling gun's barrage did not reduce the number of parasitized mutated creatures; on the contrary, it increased their numbers!
The Gatling gun stopped firing, but the scorching hot rotor on it was still spinning.
We're out of bullets.
Gatling threw the Gatling gun aside, ducked back into the cockpit, and slammed the door shut.
His chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath.
"Hehe, hehe, that feels much better, it's really exciting!" Gates said.
Roberts couldn't tell if Gates had completely gone mad.
After venting his anger, Gates seemed to clear his head considerably.
But what's the point?
His actions only made their situation worse.
The mutated creatures that had been parasitized around the aircraft, now free from the suppression of firepower, all rushed toward the fuselage.
One after another, mutated creatures frantically rammed into or gnawed at the fuselage.
I want to tear this lump of iron to shreds.
As the fuselage was constantly ravaged by the mutated creatures, Roberts and Gates inside the cabin suddenly felt like duckweed floating in a storm.
The aircraft shook violently as it was struck by the mutated creature, and the two struggled to maintain their balance.
The mutated creature was pressed against the glass of the helicopter fuselage, so close to the two of them.
The two also experienced an unprecedented despair.
Gates looked at Roberts, a hint of guilt in his eyes: "I'm sorry, my brother."
Roberts had mixed feelings, unsure whether to scold Gates or comfort him.
Before Roberts could react, Gates once again pressed the muzzle of his pistol against his chin.
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