They don't seem hungry, but threatened by the fact that someone dangerous has entered their territory. Not to forget that they have a bit of a bad impression of Irvine after the previous incident.
<< Perfect timing, isn't it? Now go vent your anger on them. >>
"Hell no! My issue has nothing to do with these ugly dogs! I'm going back home!"
However, these creatures clearly have no intention of letting him leave in peace. They advance, surrounding him from all corners, teeth bared, ready to attack.
"Shiiit!"
Annoyed, Irvine lets out an exasperated sigh, cocks his two handguns dramatically, like he's starring in a low-budget action movie, and starts blasting as he navigates his way through the ruins.
"If I die because of this, I'm going to kill you!" he yells, fully embracing his flair for the dramatic.
<< Calm down! You've been through worse. Remember yesterday? >>
Atniel's "soothing" words only fuel Irvine's irritation.
"Yeah, yesterday when one of those ugly dogs pounced on me, and I woke up with zero memory of how I got back! Real comforting!"
<< Is that so? >>
"Of course it is! My brain probably shut itself down to save me from the trauma!"
<< But hey, you made it back to your room, didn't you? >>
Irvine narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Wait a second… was that you?"
<< Let's not dwell on the details. I'm your teacher, and I believe in your potential. You've got this! >>
"Got this? Look at them! They're moving faster than caffeinated squirrels!"
Irvine ducks behind a crumbling truck, fumbling to reload his handguns. His heart is pounding like a techno beat, and the high-pitched growls of the monsters echo around him.
"And let's not forget," he mutters, "the bullets I've been hoarding for two years are all about to go down the drain for nothing!"
The monsters, despite being the size of city cars, zip around with shocking speed and agility. Irvine fires off a volley, but the creatures dodge like seasoned parkour athletes, leaving him with an impressive record of zero hits.
At least the gunfire noise is enough to make the monsters keep their distance. For now, they slink behind rubble, lurk near abandoned cars, and peek out from crumbling buildings like creepy suburban kids playing hide-and-seek.
Does this make Irvine calmer? Not a chance. As he crouches behind the truck wreck, frantically reloading his guns, he mutters to himself like a conspiracy theorist on the edge of a breakdown.
<< Calm down. >>
"Shut up! I am NOT calming down!"
<< None of them are coming closer. Maybe they're scared? >>
"Scared? These chimeras are the sharks of the apocalypse! They're planning an ambush! I can feel it!"
Irvine spots movement in a nearby abandoned convenience store. Without hesitation, he jumps up and unloads his guns into the store's shattered glass walls. The noise is deafening, and shards of glass rain down like confetti at a terrible party.
The two monsters inside decide it's time to vacate. One leaps into another building for safety, while the other decides, screw subtlety, and charges at Irvine head-on.
The monster vaults over abandoned cars like it's in a monster-truck rally, but luck finally decides to give Irvine a high-five. Two of his bullets hit the creature mid-air.
<< Nice shot! Now finish it off! >>
The monster crashes to the ground but rises again like it just got a second wind. It flashes its sharp teeth at Irvine, who immediately freezes in place.
"Nope! Not happening! There's no way mere 40-caliber bullets can stop this thing!"
<< If they're really so strong, why did your government abandon them in the first place? Think about that! >>
"What does that even mean?"
The injured monster jerks and starts sprinting toward him. Irvine panics, his hands trembling, and his brain doing an impressive impression of static noise.
<< What did I tell you? Whatever the situation, you must be able to maintain your composure! >>
<< Breathe! Steady your breathing! That's it! Now raise your guns and wait! >>
Irvine does his best impression of bravery, raising his guns as the monster leaps over the truck with its mouth wide open.
<< Now! Aim for the chest! >>
Bang! Bang! Bang!!!
He bombards the monster with both handguns. He can clearly see how the bullets penetrate the monster's skin in the chest. But physics is unforgiving, and the massive beast barrels into the air, flying over him like a furry freight train.
Luckily, he ducks just in time, narrowly avoiding becoming monster chow. When he looks back, the monster is down but still twitching. It growls weakly, clearly wounded but not dead.
<< The hole! >>
"What hole?"
<< Should I really say it? Aim at the ugly dog's asshole! >>
Irvine's face twists in horror. "No. No way. I'm not doing that!"
<< Do you want to live or not? >>
"Shiiit!"
Ultimately, he raises his guns in desperation. The scene that follows is one for the ages—or nightmares. Blood and bits of flesh splatter everywhere as Irvine unloads both magazines into the monster's most undignified weakness. The creature screeches and thrashes before finally collapsing in a pitiful, silent heap.
Panting, he stares at the mess he's made. "Damn it! Four magazines for one kill! What a disaster!"
<< On the bright side, now you know their weakness. Good luck with the rest! >>
"Wait! What do you mean 'good luck'? You're not leaving me, are you?"
Atniel stays ominously silent, which is worse than a sarcastic response.
The quiet doesn't last long. A chorus of growls rises from the surrounding buildings as more monsters crawl out of the shadows like backup dancers in a horror show. Eight of them, to be exact, and all are looking directly at Irvine.
Reloading his last two magazines, Irvine glares at the creatures, trying to convince himself he's got this.
"I've learned your weaknesses! I can do this!"
He steps out into the open like a lone action hero. And don't forget for the dramatic slow motion as he walks out like a genuine God of Gambler entering the casino.
In his head, it's a valiant last stand. In reality, it's pure chaos. The monsters charge from all directions, forcing him to run, dodge, and aim wildly. His grand plan to aim at their chests quickly falls apart.
Forget the chest, forget the hole—he can barely focus on anything.
"Click, click, click!"
"Click, click!"
"Click!"
At last, his guns run dry. He's out of bullets, and three of the monsters are still growling, their injuries making them even angrier.
"Hey, Atniel! What do I do now?"
"Come on! Say something!"
"I know you're still here! Watching me screw this up! Just HELP already!"
The monsters close in, and Irvine realizes one thing with absolute certainty: This is going to be a very bad day.