On the third floor, along the exterior wall behind the collapsed wing, heavy breathing echoed.
Xiao An seemed to defy gravity, standing upright against the rear wall of the villa. Panting violently, he looked up toward the short distance ahead. But sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, the stinging blur obscuring his vision.
The figure standing atop the surface of the pond.
And the countless iron plates scattered around.
Every single one was shattered, bent, and warped.
Or resting in the eerie figure's hand, being examined with meticulous scrutiny.
Wolf Pot, Dragon Head, Leaning Pole, Horizontal Pot... Xiao An had exhausted every technique he had mastered, yet failed to inflict a single wound upon the enemy before him.
Instead, his own stamina was nearly drained.
A momentary lapse in focus sent a chill racing down his spine. He twisted his body violently just as a blood-red crystalline arrow grazed his temple, embedding itself into the wall. It punched through three layers of brick and mortar, soaring out into the night sky before vanishing without a trace.
"Is that all?"
The White Stag Celestial Chosen known as Bloodslaughter gave a soft sigh and crushed the iron plate in his grasp to powder, utterly disappointed. "What a shame. It isn't every day I get to cross paths with a White Stag Hunter, only to find he's just an outcast thrown out of his clan... A wasted trip."
*Snap!*
A sinister beam of bloody light shot from his fingertips like driving rain, carving deep furrows into the wall as it pursued the youth like maggots clinging to bone.
Iron plates and blood crystals collided in the dark, tracing countless intricate trajectories before annihilating each other, or... leaving slashes across Xiao An's cheeks and arms.
"Boring. Far too boring!"
Bloodslaughter waved his hand in irritation, flicking his fingers in rapid succession to knock the boy to the ground. "Show me some real skill, White Stag Hunter! Faster! Faster! Or just die already!"
*Boom!*
A muffled explosion erupted in the air, scattering crystalline bloody light in all directions.
Right down the middle, the barrage was shattered.
In that instant, the youth's voice finally drifted from afar.
He said, "All right."
Frozen, Bloodslaughter looked down and saw a bloody hole in the palm of his hand.
A wisp of faint light had flown from the youth's hand, piercing clean through his hunting blood like splitting bamboo, its momentum carrying it straight through his palm.
So fast.
So fast his body hadn't even registered it. Only now did he feel the tearing agony, the hair-raising terror, and... a long-lost surge of wild excitement.
"This is..."
Bloodslaughter greedily licked his own blood, savoring the lingering aura of slaughter within it, utterly intoxicated.
Not far away, by the edge of the pond.
Xiao An lowered his head and carefully, meticulously unfastened the prosthetic brace from his leg. Noticing the scratches marring its surface, his brow furrowed with displeasure.
He placed it down reverently upon a clean stone.
"Looks like things aren't too pressing on Brother Ji Jue's side."
He turned, glancing back at the villa shrouded in darkness, and murmured softly, "I suppose I can spare a moment to play with you."
With that, he took a step forward onto the surface of the pond.
Ripples surged and spread outward.
The gentle water bore the youth's weight. Then came a second step, and a third.
After three steps, the frailty and gentleness that had once clung to him vanished completely, replaced by a solemn, terrifying ferocity welling up from the depths of his soul.
"Pay your respects to the White Stag, sir."
He raised a hand, the iron plate between his fingers vibrating to shake off the dust. "These are the claws and fangs bestowed by Sovereign Virtue."
At his fingertips, along the edge of the iron plate, a streak of light flashed and faded.
Brilliant and dazzling.
So fleeting.
Yet it made Bloodslaughter tremble with exhilaration, almost dancing with manic ecstasy.
"The Edge of Flying Light..."
His eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent, rabid grin as he met the youth's gaze across the water. Both men straightened their backs simultaneously, placed a hand over their chest, and bowed slightly with solemn earnestness.
What spilled from their lips was a devout prayer rising from the bottom of their hearts:
"—May this quarry be dedicated to the White Stag!"
May the duel between hunter and prey ascend to the hearing of the White Stag on high.
This was a sacred hunt.
Between them, only death would bring an end!
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! We're screwed! Screwed! Screwed!"
In the ruined lobby, amidst pile after pile of corpses, the six-armed Swarm mercenary was drenched in sweat and blood. "Where's the backup? Where the hell did everyone go?"
It had been over ten minutes since it started!
One Desolate Ruins, three White Stags, one Entropy, one Heart Pivot... He had already slaughtered six of them, but the enemies only multiplied the more he killed! He hacked down the living, and the dead rose; he hacked down the dead, and more living bastards showed up!
Where was his backup?
Where the fuck was backup?!
Why did his entire team disconnect out of nowhere, forcing him into single-player mode? Facing a boss with double health, no less! Is this how this damn game is played?!
Or was this some kind of workplace freeze-out? Was he being ostracized?
No way, right?
Just because he ate a lot, drank a lot, and took big shits? But he worked hard too, dammit!
Amidst his frantic spiraling, tears of fury almost welled in his eyes. Even so, his six arms blurred, swords and sabers crisscrossing in a flurry of slashes that chopped an enemy crawling off the floor behind him into minced meat.
Fierce Battle, Berserk Blood, Anticipate the Enemy... Among his six Swarm blessings, each had undergone a qualitative mutation twice on average. Berserk Blood, in particular, had undergone three mutations, granting him enough raw power to overclock his spiritus output until the moment he dropped dead.
Yet right now, death was already staring him in the face.
Chilling laughter echoed from in front of him and behind. Identical voices reverberated through the severed limbs and wreckage as two men who looked exactly alike prowled through the pooling blood like phantoms, watching for any sign of weakness or opening.
Just moments ago, in the mere instant their bodies had crossed paths, a cut deep enough to bare bone had appeared across Old Tom's back.
"Fuck! The Corpse-Eating Brothers!"
Old Tom bellowed in fury. "Why the hell is it you two jinxes again?! Are you ever going to quit?!"
"Ayo, Brother Jerry, long time no see! Doesn't look like you're doing too hot," the elder twin sneered with a grin. "Fate brings people together across a thousand miles, doesn't it?"
"Hmm? Wasn't his name Smith?" the younger brother chimed in mockingly.
The elder said, "Last time, I think he went by Wang Qiang..."
"And this time? What's your name this time? I heard the intercom call you Old Tom. We've known each other for so long, yet I've never heard you give your real name even once."
The younger brother snickered. "That's not very nice, is it? We're old pals. Even if you die, we'd at least want to set up a tombstone for you. With so many names, though, I'm afraid it won't fit."
"No worries, no need for a tombstone," the elder brother waved casually, looking genial. "Once we eat him into our bellies, we can just etch his name into our hearts."
"Fuck you both! I won't die even if you two rotting bastards go extinct!"
Old Tom cursed furiously, though tears streamed endlessly inside his heart.
*Chen Xingzhou, I've truly held up my end of the bargain this time!*
*I fucking knew it—not a single dime earned from your family comes free... You're already dead, so why the hell did you have to drag me down with you?!*
A sickening chill shot up his spine as murderous intent slammed into him!
The two figures vanished from their spots like ghosts. At point-blank range, the daggers in the brothers' hands struck in seamless coordination at two separate targets, moving with uncanny speed.
Even against the coordinated onslaught of Old Tom's six arms, they weren't in the least disadvantaged.
In the instant they clashed, one dagger drove toward his heart and the other toward his throat.
Neither blow was fatal.
Old Tom's sword edge and broken saber also bit deep into those two drooling, dead-eyed faces. Blood splattered, life and death decided in an eyeblink... Or so it should have been. But right now, the floor was already littered with the corpses of those two brothers!
Matrix: Myriad Shadows. Its Superior Legacy led straight to the White Stag, and the ability it granted was hair-raising—clones!
In the snap of a finger, two identical faces appeared before him once more, their grins unchanged in the slightest. Then they became four, then six...
Amidst relentless taunts and bizarre cackles, the fallen bodies in the pool of blood dissolved into ash one after another, yet the clones seemed infinite. Like a deep ocean, they were gradually swallowing him whole.
Until Old Tom couldn't take this mental pollution any longer and suddenly roared at the top of his lungs: "Fourth Granduncle, help me!!!"
At that very instant, an aged face emerged from his neck. A pale, wispy beard drifted in the air as turbid pupils opened.
"What is it? Oh, work?"
"Fourth Granduncle" glanced at the surrounding scene, thoroughly unimpressed, and simply asked, "Where's the cash?"
Gritting his teeth, Old Tom pulled a gold coin from his pocket and tossed it over his shoulder.
The gold coin came down and was caught by a hand covered in wrinkles and age spots that reached out from his back. Weighing it slightly in his palm, Fourth Granduncle's face immediately fell. "A counterfeit?"
"Just make do with it, dammit!" Old Tom barked furiously. "What era do you think this is? Modern people use paper money, you old fossil! Would you take cryptocurrency if I offered it?!"
This geezer was nothing but trouble. Demanding payment every single time he was called out to work was one thing, but he insisted on gold coins from the Eternal Empire!
Where was he supposed to find so many on the market?
Even if you found them, the prices were insane, so he had no choice but to forge them himself.
At this point, he was more skilled at carving that damn emperor's profile than writing his own name.
Fourth Granduncle sighed and curled his lip. "Each generation is worse than the last. Less and less respect for rules..."
"Indeed, getting more and more disgraceful," another face emerged from the other side of his neck, chiming in abruptly.
"The way I see it, this Tang family is doomed sooner or later."
A teasing grin emerged from a wound on his cheek. "Why not hire me instead, A-Qian? Federation currency works fine. I'll help you finish this fight for just nine million."
"Shut up, Xiao Qi, stop your yapping!" Fourth Granduncle glared. "You dare steal my job?"
"Work if you can, or get the fuck out if you can't!"
Old Tom—or rather, Tang Qian—could no longer stand this bunch of literal ancestors. The enemies were practically riding his face, and they were still haggling over prices here?!
"Take it or leave it! Once I'm dead, let's see who gives you a single cent! You can wait around for some idiot brat to burn newspapers for you!"
"Fine, fine..."
Resigned, Fourth Granduncle let out one last sigh. "Consider it a discount. For this much, five minutes tops."
With that, he opened his mouth, tossed the counterfeit Empire gold coin inside, and swallowed it whole!
Then, a spine-chilling sound of flesh and bone rapidly multiplying erupted from Old Tom's body. Right beside that stubbled, rugged face, a second head emerged from Tang Qian's neck!
Grey-haired, beard fluttering.
Feeble and senile in appearance.
Yet as those turbid eyes slowly lifted, they burned with a terrifying, bone-chilling brilliance.
Looking down upon the dumbfounded brothers before him, he spoke:
"Same old drill. You defend, I attack."
"Right."
Without hesitation, Tang Qian nodded. Two of his six arms dropped the broken saber and cracked sword. The two arms quickly withered, puckering with wrinkles and scars into emaciated limbs that grasped into empty air.
Clenching tight once more.
Immediately, a gruesome spear mingled with crimson and pitch-black materialized out of the howling gale. With just a single horizontal sweep, it whipped up a soul-shaking tidal wave through the air!
The Celestial Conscription personally selected by Sovereign Virtue: Swarm manifested here!
—[Matrix: Asura]!
Upon those two faces linked by bonds of blood, an identical solemnity and frigid chill settled.
"Die!"
A ghastly pale tornado ripped up from the floor.
Storm and death surged forth at blinding speed!
In the earth-shattering chaos, the cramped safe room shook violently.
The flickering lights finally went out under the relentless erosion of static electricity. In the pitch darkness, only the flashlight of a phone camera still cast a faint gleam, illuminating a tear-streaked face sobbing uncontrollably.
"I've failed my brother, I've failed Uncle Lin, I've failed Old Ji..."
"A-Yi, thank you, brother. If I die, don't do anything reckless, please just run. Surviving is what matters—there's no need to throw away your life for a useless screwup like me."
"Tell Ji Jue that I'm sorry. Ask him to take care of my cats in the future... Even if I, Chen Yubo, die here, in my next life I'll turn into a beauty and give myself to him in marriage, waaaah..."
"Second Brother."
A-Yi's face, bruised-purple with strain, forced out a strained voice.
"Huh? What is it?"
"Shut the fuck up already!!!"
A-Yi was close to tears himself; he was at his absolute limit.
Even though he kept chugging bottles of spiritus supplement one after another, the entire villa was on the verge of being torn to pieces. In this earth-shaking rumble, just maintaining the illusion had completely drained him.
Chen Yubo couldn't see what was happening outside, but A-Yi could sense it all too clearly.
There were so many malicious spirits and vengeful ghosts crawling around looking for him.
It was only a matter of time before they ferreted out this safe room, and when that happened, neither of them would have anywhere to run!
*Boom!!*
Amidst a violent tremor, fresh cracks spiderwebbed across the villa. A-Yi's face turned sheet-white, and the illusion flickered out for a fraction of a second. In his perception, countless residual spirits converged like a raging tempest, swarming inward.
In an instant, they phased straight through the walls!
And then... there was no "and then."
One, two, three, four, five, six... so many residual spirits, at least a dozen of them, had phased through the walls and then bizarrely vanished into thin air?!
What the hell?
Dumbfounded, he looked back. He saw a thoroughly bewildered Chen Yubo and the two cats curled up in his lap. Yet under the beam of the phone light, Chen Yubo's shadow appeared tiny.
Meanwhile, the shadows of the two cats were... slowly expanding?
"Meow~"
The cats frolicked as playfully as ever, innocent of sorrow.
Within the shadow of the cats, something impatiently opened its eyes, glanced outward, and then... every single one of those residual spirits disappeared without a trace.
Only a shadow resembling sharp, spread wings unfurled within the safe room, seemingly poised to engulf everything.
Just what... was that?
"What is it?" Chen Yubo asked blankly.
"No."
A-Yi swallowed hard with difficulty and forced a smile. "N-nothing. It's nothing."
Outside the safe room, a tempest rose from the ground.
Earth-shattering.
Amidst thunderous roars, the villa shook violently, teetering on the verge of collapse under the relentless devastation.
Beneath the rubble of the collapsed false ceiling, the berserk Centaur swelled once more—by now, he had transformed into a skeletal giant over five meters tall.
Roaring in fury.
Driven completely mad, he trampled the ground repeatedly.
"Fuck you, die! Die! Die! Die! DIE!!!"
Amidst the ground-shaking reverberations, Little Niuma sped along, shrouded in dense smoke and flames. One of its legs had morphed into a wheel, weaving side to side in an impossible dance beneath the stomping hooves before leaping up with all its might.
Three arms gripped the massive iron-slab greataxe.
And brought it slamming brutally onto the Centaur's skull!
The greataxe shattered; blood gushed like a geyser.
Cracks webbed across the bizarre exoskeleton resembling a horse's face, spurting blood continuously like hissing leaks.
The Centaur wailed, reaching out to tear the axe fragments from his face, but Ji Jue had already finished reloading. Aiming straight at the monster's face, he pulled the trigger.
*Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!*
Four gunshots blended into a single continuous rumble of thunder. Four gaping holes were blasted into the Centaur's face; jaw, cheekbones, and cranium were torn away completely, leaving behind a mangled mess of flesh and gore.
This time, he could no longer regenerate as rapidly as before. Under Little Niuma's constant attrition, his healing had slowed to a crawl. What was more, Little Niuma, currently operating in overload, had split open its maw to gorge, feasting ravenously and greedily sucking down this blood bursting with abundant vitality.
Boiling dragon blood coursed through its mechanical innards, letting out a piercing shriek like a metallic neigh.
The five lightbulb eyes on its face shone with dazzling intensity.
Wild with intoxicating excitement.
After devouring a massive quantity of residual spirits followed by the Centaur's blood, the shattered internal components and bent chassis beneath its armor had undergone complete Restoration. Not only that, nurtured by the deluge of spiritus and vitality, the ferocious dragon blood was activated even further, corroding and transmuting this mortal frame.
Guided by Fluid Alchemy, its form shifted closer to its true nature once more—
*Bang!*
Mechanical shards flew everywhere. On Little Niuma's currently abstract head and face, two sharply curved, symmetrical horns sprouted forth, leaving Ji Jue dumbstruck.
*Oh no. Now it really is a beast of burden.*
*Wait, hold on. If I had named it Longma back then... would it have grown wings right now?!*
Before Ji Jue even had time to lament his naming choices, he heard the Centaur's dying neigh.
It was as though the creature had finally tasted fear and despair. Mobilizing every ounce of strength left in him, he struggled violently and threw off Little Niuma. Without even sparing a thought for Ji Jue standing nearby, he spun around and bolted for the exit.
Yet it was already too late.
The muzzle lifted once more, and an armor-piercing gold round tore through the air!
Blood splattered as a severed leg flew into the air.
Immediately followed by a second.
The Centaur crashed to the floor. Refusing to give up, he clawed forward with both hands. But then, in his peripheral vision, he noticed Little Niuma vaulting into the air.
Following Ji Jue's command, the construct inverted the broken axe shaft, driving the jagged wooden splinter like a lance straight through his throat, pinning him to the ground.
The revolver was reloaded once more, but without using cursed rounds, Ji Jue's standard ammunition offered limited lethal stopping power beyond sheer kinetic damage.
The puncture wound was already knitting together rapidly, and bones were already regenerating at the severed stumps of both legs.
In mere seconds, he was already recovering...
Watching this scene, Ji Jue's eyelid twitched uncontrollably, green with envy to the point of spitting blood.
*Is this what a Vortex Celestial Chosen is like?*
In just these few minutes, the damage he and Little Niuma had poured into this guy would have been enough to hack to death seven or eight Desolate Ruins, a dozen Swarms, or hundreds upon thousands of people like himself. Yet this guy was still kicking, his health bar longer than a widescreen monitor...
To be tough to this degree—he was just too damn hard to kill!
Ji Jue hesitated, but in the end did not chamber a corrupted bullet. Once something was contaminated by corruption, it was useless for anything other than crafting more ammunition; he couldn't even feed it to Little Niuma.
While Little Niuma was a corrupted creation itself and wouldn't mind if shoved down its throat, corruption was best left for enemies rather than consumed at home.
It was already a mutant construct; piling on more mutations was just asking for a rapid breakdown.
Still, a Vortex Celestial Chosen...
Was a treasure trove from head to toe.
Ji Jue narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the creature with barely concealed admiration. If such vibrant vitality could be extracted in its entirety, it would surely elevate the awakening of the dragon blood to a whole new level, wouldn't it?
"A fine piece of raw jade indeed."
In the brief hush, he let out a faint sigh, suddenly understanding the joy Lawrence must have felt.
You didn't have to lift a finger, and pristine raw materials just grew out of the ground right before your eyes.
How strange.
And yet, how delightful.
Truly something to look forward to.
That gaze made the snarling Centaur freeze for a second, a sudden chill gripping him from head to toe without rhyme or reason.
Especially when he sensed the pure, eerie aura of Embers radiating from Ji Jue, he finally understood the fate awaiting him. He couldn't help but tremble and curse:
"Fuck you, you little bastard! Fuck your mother!"
The horse-faced beast shrieked, thrashing violently. "Kill me if you've got the balls, you fucker!"
Little Niuma stomped down onto his chest, its maw splitting wide. A mixture of machine oil and blood dripped like saliva from the corners of its mouth, barely able to hold back its appetite.
*Bang!*
An armor-piercing bullet shattered the Centaur's elbow joint, stopping his struggle.
Then, Little Niuma pulled out rebar rods one after another and pinned his limbs securely to the ground, immobilizing him completely like a museum specimen.
"Keep fucking dreaming, you little bastard."
Yet facing Ji Jue's slowly approaching smile, the utterly despairing Centaur cursed madly. Across his face where crimson and bruised-purple clashed, a final ferocity surfaced: "Let's die together!!!"
From the shattered exhaust pipe, a final burst of crimson surged forth like raging flames.
The matrix activated, relentlessly driving life force to the extreme. Even his blessings fractured under the violent operation—or rather, they were deliberately destroyed in exchange for spiritus that surged out like a tidal wave.
His body swelled rapidly as blazing light rushed through his blood vessels and internal organs.
An irreversible fuse had been ignited from deep within his soul, turning his entire being into a terrifying bomb capable of blasting the villa to high heaven.
Yet before that could happen, the last thing that reached his ears was Ji Jue's voice.
"Don't be in such a rush, brother. Have a seat first."
He raised both hands, speaking with gentle reassurance: "Let's have a... heart-to-heart."
*Splash!*
A deluge of blood erupted like an opened sluice gate, gushing from the torn abdomen to stain that genial, calm smile before trickling down his chin.
Ji Jue thrust his hands forward, fingers rigid as blades!
Plunging straight into the monster's torso.
Gripping the heart!
Across his ten fingers, spiritus circulated, and the intricate Non-Offensive matrix flared with light.
Effortlessly, it froze the vast torrent of spiritus, snuffing out the fuse about to detonate.
And then, a bloodcurdling scream tore from the Centaur's mouth.
In an instant, he plummeted into purgatory!
Chapter 133