#260. Shouldn't Have Messed with Me?
"The expedition leader's here!"
"Woooaaah!"
"Thwack! Why'd you take so damn long?! We've been waiting!"
Taylor's arrival turned the tide in the struggling B-5 battle.
The pushed-back front lines quickly regained their footing, then started pressing forward.
Taylor's party were all elite even among the expedition team, giving them the edge against the carnivorous wasps.
"Janet! Push through like this! Head for Sector A!"
"Yessir!"
The female tanker Janet—tougher than most macho types—hoisted her shield high.
She gripped it tight, tucking her arm snug against her side. Mana surged from her shoulders down her cervical spine, spine, pelvis, waist, and legs.
Combat Engine
Steam-like heat erupted from her body as Janet charged.
The wasps attacked her. Needles that meant instant death on a sting, serrated wings that tore flesh on a graze, legs with monstrous strength that ripped bodies apart if they latched on.
They unleashed their deadliest weapons at her.
"What the hell are you puny bugs doing?"
Diamond Skin
The wasps' attacks, which had hounded the hunters moments ago, did nothing to Janet.
Instead, the wasps bounced off her bulldozer-like advance.
The ones tumbling across the ground looked like they'd been in a head-on with a semi-truck—their heads, chests, and abdomens crushed flat.
Viscera spewed from their grotesque, multi-segmented mouths, or sticky fluids bubbled from shattered torsos as they died.
In an instant, a wide path cleared through the wasp swarm, drawing all their attention to Janet.
Taylor didn't miss the opening.
A 2-meter longsword was already in his grip.
Its blade was narrow and thin for its length, unlikely to pierce the wasps' tough bodies—but no one doubted his strike.
"Stretch."
At his command, the blade elongated like taffy. A testament to the sword's premium quality.
Now it resembled a whip more than a sword.
Taylor lashed it sideways at a wasp exposing its back.
Pyromaniac
Pyromaniac.
The skill sharing its name with Magic Swordsman Taylor's moniker swept through the wasps.
The superheated fiery whip stretched even longer than the original blade, razing the area. What had been wasps turned to ash.
"Clean 'em up."
No need for detailed orders anymore.
At Taylor's command, his remaining party members shot forward like arrows, exploiting the wasps' broken lines. Janet was still buried in the swarm, wreaking havoc.
Riding the momentum, the B-5 hunters surged. The endless wasp flood from the passage slowed, then tapered off until none emerged.
As the area reached the cleanup phase, Taylor scanned the scene with a puzzled expression.
Janet approached, helmet off after the fight.
Despite the brutal clash, she brimmed with vitality. Sweat beaded on her chocolate skin, pooling at her full lips. She licked it off, the salt teasing her tongue.
"Whoa, that worked up an appetite."
"Getting hungry in this stench? You're healthy, alright."
"Leader, your stomach's too delicate. A frontline hunter picking at food like that? Gate in, you eat anything—no pickiness. But outside, you're all fussy."
"Your tastes are just weird. At least eat clean food in a proper spot outside gates."
"Yeah, yeah. My taste and smell are shot anyway, so I don't fuss. But hey, Leader—this feels off, right?"
"You think so too? Yeah."
"Right? A-3 wouldn't wipe like that over this. They could've at least retreated…"
Janet's doubt mirrored Taylor's own worries.
'We got pushed 'cause of the numbers and a few 4th-gens mixed in, but that was 'cause B-5's wide open. A-3 was narrow—fewer monsters at once. Not a party to get wiped. Something else happened!'
Taylor's hunch revealed itself soon enough.
Screams erupted from the hunters who'd pushed the wasps to the B-5 passage.
Janet donned her helmet the instant she sensed the anomaly. Her comrades ended their break and reformed ranks.
Taylor quickened his pace forward, party in tow.
"Everyone, stay calm! Even retreating, keep order… Damn it, move!"
His attempts to calm the panicking hunters fell flat. He shoved them aside by force.
He wanted to smash their skulls, but couldn't injure guildmates. Swept by the crowd, he couldn't advance.
Then suddenly, the path cleared.
The line that had nearly cleared the wasps had been pushed back to them.
In the blink of an eye. Absurdly short after all the struggle.
"Leader, those guys… aren't they…"
Before Janet finished, Taylor nodded.
"Yeah. Seems like 5th-gens."
Muscle-bound behemoths more beetle than wasp, black wings flapping awkwardly.
They eyed Taylor, licking their chops.
Taylor's face stayed stone-calm.
"Message the guild master. Gear up with full raid equipment. Full strength for the gate assault."
"Not much known about 5th-gen carnivorous wasps than expected."
Kang Moo-hyuk, map out as if briefing the op, switched to wasp intel.
"Why the sudden wasp talk?"
"Before the op brief, you need to grasp how dangerous the 5th-gens are. Then you'll get why I planned this final op."
Thomas interjected as he started.
"Fine, whatever. But what do you mean 'not much info' on 5th-gens? Wasn't there a war in Botswana?"
"There was."
"Data should've piled up then."
"Early fights wiped hunters before intel. Late ones? S-rank mages and ranged barrage—no close combat, just annihilation."
"What force made 5th-gen wasps fold like that?"
"South Africa's full elite mobilization."
"That tracks… Africa's monster hellhole—hunters there are beasts."
"Ranged barrage leftovers got mopped by assault teams. That's all the info we have. Queen survived for final raid, but pre-damaged—no full data."
Even so, known 5th-gen traits followed standard monster role classification.
Roles like tank, DPS, support—but for monsters, by function over type.
Not big in Asia, but common knowledge in North American academia and European hunters.
Started in North America, bloomed in Europe. Now spreading back, guilds adopting.
"First, the Stelsers."
"Stelsers?"
"Usually assassins—stealth ambush types. Wasps are different. More aggressive."
Carnivorous wasp Stelsers shifted camouflage like chameleons, flew at insane speeds.
Speed from wall-kicks for thrust. Wings glided silently, blades slicing throats.
"Next, Vultures."
Vulture from baseball—relief pitcher easy saves. Here, sneaky finishers.
"Wasp Vultures close to Stelsers, but two key diffs."
"How?"
"One: all-in attack stats. One-shot kills—defense and mobility minimal. Pure burst agility and power. Unconfirmed, but Botswana vets say some use mana attacks."
Thomas tilted his head at Kang Moo-hyuk's explanation.
"Defense aside, no mobility? Just dodge 'em. No hit, no problem."
"That's tied to the second trait."
Thomas leaned in, urging him on.
"Second trait is…"
"Aaaagh!"
Janet's arm flew off shield and all.
Her wingman Jack snatched her nape in a flash.
Jack's quick thinking saved her. A mystery scythe grazed where she'd stood. A second slower, and he'd have lost a comrade.
"Shit! What the hell's this freak?!"
Chastain, filling the gap, spat curses dodging the tiny scorpion-wasp-thing crawling from the giant stag-beetle wasp's underbelly—tail ending in a scythe, not stinger. He counterattacked.
But the beetle-wasp blocked. Its shell shrugged off Chastain's mana-charged greatsword like solid metal, jarring his arms.
"Tank plus Vulture. Best defense, top offense? Monsters using brains."
Taylor pegged the black wasps instantly—prepped via pre-raid docs on Botswana et al.
Judgment swift:
"Coleman, grab Janet's arm. Reattach if quick. Jack, take her out first. Me and Chastain hold rear."
"Got it!"
"Roger."
"Stay safe, Leader."
Unconscious Janet and Jack retreated. Coleman delivered the arm, rejoined.
Taylor restricted Vultures with fiery whip, ordering:
"Coleman, abandon B-5. Tell guild master—pull vanguard to main base. Evac this team's units too. We'll buy time; prep full gear for total raid."
"Yes sir!"
Taylor and Chastain's stand was heroic. Without them, B-5 would've mirrored A-3's wipe. True expedition elite.
Taylor teased the tanky black wasps while retreating, succeeding fully. Slow tanks couldn't match their mobility.
'A-3 fell 'cause fast wasps blocked, blacks flanked. Feels like fighting an army, not monsters.'
Taylor sensed need to rethink the whole raid plan.
'Botswana had few 5th-gens. If worse lurk… this raid's trouble.'
"Whoa, total weakling."
Go Eul-ji marveled at the stag-beetle whose head Joo Se-ah pulped.
"It's strong, dummy."
"Eek, Guild Master, that was way too cocky, right?"
"Talented folks are cocky."
"Can't argue with results. Tch."
"Jealous? Hurry up to S-ran—huh?"
Something thudded her gut. Joo Se-ah turned.
A long scythe embedded in her abdomen.
Tail-swing from a baby wasp crawling from the dead beetle's underside.
"Cute? Tickles—what's this?"
The attacker panicked—no feedback from its deep "stab."
Retrieving the tail-scythe, half was gone. The rest on the floor.
Even dim baby wasp realized: wrong prey.
"Yeah, regretting messing with me for no reason?"
Joo Se-ah hammered down fist like a mallet.
The baby wasp's life flashed before it.