"I emptied half my magazine on it, but this overgrown tin can still hasn't kicked the bucket?"
Kev was shocked by its ability to stay alive despite being shot multiple times. But that was all. No matter how tough the creature was, Kev refused to believe it couldn't be killed.
"It deserves to be shot more."
Kev was a stern believer in the saying that what can't be shot dead just hasn't been shot enough. Practicing what he preached, he put the rifle to work again. His aim was deadlier than the deadliest venom, as if he were a natural-born killer or someone who had trained in the art of killing his entire life.
One bullet after another sank into the iron-clad giant's skull through the opening in its armor.
This time, it was finally unable to hold on to dear life.
Thump!
Like a puppet with its strings cut, it collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, blood trickling from the deep, gaping holes in its eyes, marking the cause of its demise.
"Is it over, or is it just acting to catch me off guard?"
Kev had no way of knowing what was what without getting closer. But that was precisely what the creature would want if it were pretending to be dead.
His brows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes in thought.
"It's better to be overly cautious than to lose your life because of a moment of carelessness," he muttered to himself, taking aim. "I better shoot it a few more times from a distance to confirm if it's really dead."
Kev pulled the trigger, shooting it a few more times to make absolutely certain it was truly dead and not just feigning it. Struck by the bullets, the bound iron-clad giant's body jerked violently.
Clearly, it had been playing dead, attempting to bait him into dropping his guard so it could use whatever remaining strength it had to strike him down. But it hadn't taken into account Kev's extremely cautious nature, which had ultimately ruined its plan.
A great deal of unwillingness washed over it as it realized its plan had failed. Now, it had to go all in, or it would be too late. It pushed itself off the ground with a powerful motion, trying to deal a lethal blow, relying on the sound of gunfire to determine Kev's position. But the subsequent bullets cut its life short.
It dropped to the ground.
Kev wasn't having it.
He had already experienced the iron-clad giant's treachery and knew how skilled it was at pretending. So, he couldn't bring himself to believe what he just saw.
He shot it again, but there was no reaction.
Seeing that it had become entirely unresponsive to external trauma, he confirmed its vitality had run dry, it had finally died.
"The danger has truly passed this time," Kev breathed a sigh of relief. "It was one tough battle."
What made it tough wasn't just the incredible equipment and toughness of the iron-clad giant but also the suddenness with which the battle had started.
Kev was caught off guard and injured at the very start of the battle.
Again, if the iron-clad giant hadn't held back at that time in order to slowly and painfully torture him to death with its iron-clad fists, if it wasn't a sick pervert that deserved to be locked up with a colony of centipedes crawling over its body, Kev wouldn't be alive right now.
In a sense, its own arrogance was the cause of its demise. Kev was merely the instrument through which it was delivered.
This deliverance would have never been made possible if he wasn't armed to the teeth.
He knew it in his heart that he wouldn't have won this battle without his weapons, and he wouldn't have been able to bring them into this world if not for CrimsonSheWolf's post. He owed this victory to her.
Kev thought, "I disappeared from Earth mere minutes after parting ways with her. Perhaps she also disappeared at that same time. If so, where is she now?"
He couldn't shake the feeling that having a thinker or a strategist by his side would make survival in this alien world much easier. He wanted to team up with her, to get her on his side. But first, he had to find her. And it wasn't going to be easy.
That wasn't a random thought.
He was speaking from experience.
He had been in the alien space for only a short time, yet he had already faced multiple life-threatening situations.
This meant that the worst possible outcome theorized by CrimsonSheWolf was true: the alien space wasn't just inhospitable to humans, it was downright hostile, aiming to kill them at every turn.
To survive in this place, immense power was needed, and Kev didn't have much of it.
Now that he had survived the life and death ordeal, he had to plan his next course of actions.
Looking at his greatest source of dependence in the alien space, his ammo wasn't infinite, and his trump cards were limited.
In such a situation, the best course of action was to team up with like-minded people who also wanted to survive, find their loved ones, and get out of this place.
Teaming up was necessary. After all, strength was in numbers.
"Although I prefer to act alone, personal preference shouldn't get in the way of survival. I need to locate and gather the survivors and work together with them to survive in this place."
That thought had just crossed Kev's mind when a sharp throb tore through his body like a bolt out of the blue.
His face twisted in agony, beads of sweat rolling down his temple as his skin turned pale from the intensity of the pain.