Swish—
A razor-sharp arc of steel flashed before Wu Dahai's eyes. The three bloody vines lunging at him were severed mid-air, spraying a mist of crimson that painted the streetlights in an eerie gold-red hue.
Standing between Wu Dahai and the monstrous "Old Man Zhang" was a tall high school girl in uniform, her long hair whipping in the wind, a gleaming tang dao gripped in reverse. She looked like a celestial warrior descended from the heavens.
Wu Dahai was dumbstruck. For the first time in his life, he felt his heart skip a beat—not from fear, but something else entirely.
"Go."
Qing Ling didn't turn around, her focus entirely on the enemy.
"O-oh…" Wu Dahai snapped out of it, scrambling to his feet and stumbling away. "Be… be careful, beautiful…"
Old Man Zhang had now transformed into something between plant and beast. The grotesque "flower bud" of fused human features oozed pus and blood bubbles, its many mouths chanting in a ravenous, furious chorus:
"Humans… humans… humans…"
The vines at its base stopped attacking and instead coiled inward, tightening like a meat grinder.
Gao Yang could barely stomach the sight. Within seconds, the air reeked of putrid decay. Fighting back nausea, he grabbed Wu Dahai as the man staggered over. "Why aren't you fighting?!"
"I can't fight!" Wu Dahai said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"But that trick earlier—the snap that shut off all the arcade machines—wasn't that your power?"
"That was just a voice-activated kill switch! Anyone could've done that!"
Gao Yang was speechless. Bro, you're even more useless than I am? How the hell did you get into this organization? Nepotism? Did you bribe your way in? Is this group even worth joining?!
Forget it. Better to rely on himself.
"Any other weapons?!" Gao Yang yelled to Officer Huang.
"Golf club in the trunk!" The officer tossed his keys one-handed while keeping his gun trained on the monster.
Gao Yang caught them, sprinted to the police car, and yanked out a silver golf club.
By now, Old Man Zhang's body had fully dissolved—all except the writhing mass of facial features that served as its "brain." The rest had morphed into tentacles—twenty or more, stitched together from intestines, organs, muscle tissue, and cartilage.
The creature now resembled a grotesque, upside-down octopus.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—
Three tentacles lashed at Qing Ling.
Her blade flashed, slicing them clean off.
Whap-whap-whap—
Four more slammed down from above.
Qing Ling rolled aside, barely avoiding the crushing strikes—only for another set of tentacles to slither unseen along the ground, coiling around her ankle.
She gasped, leaping back—
Thwip!
The tentacle yanked, dragging her down hard.
BANG!
A bullet severed it.
Ignoring the pain, Qing Ling flipped upright and bisected three more approaching tendrils in one swing. She didn't stop moving, dashing in a wide circle around the monster.
Her sharp eyes had noticed a pattern: the tentacles shot out in straight lines fastest when lunging from Zhang's core. But once extended, their lateral movements slowed. By keeping to a circular path, she could reduce the risk of being caught.
Bang-bang-bang!
Officer Huang seized the opening, unloading three rounds into the creature's "brain" in under a second.
"AAAGH—HUMANS! HUMANS!"
The monster convulsed in agony, retracting several tentacles to shield its core.
"Head's the weak point!" Huang yelled, ejecting his spent magazine and slamming in a fresh one.
Qing Ling knew—but charging in blindly was suicide.
Over twenty tentacles surrounded Zhang, each as flexible as steel cable. Only her blade could cleave through them, and even then, they regenerated almost instantly.
One misstep, and those tendrils would drag her into the monster's core. The "meat grinder" would churn again, pulping her alive. Her face would join the screaming chorus on that grotesque tumor, her body reforged into new tentacles to hunt more prey…
Even someone as cold as Qing Ling felt a chill at the thought.
One chance.
Fail, and it's hell.
She took a deep breath—then sprinted, circling the creature at full speed. The tentacles whipped after her, forming a whirling, macabre carousel.
Two minutes of this high-speed dance drained her stamina. Her "Blade Master" talent relied on explosive bursts, not endurance. She had to strike soon.
"Cover me!"
Qing Ling veered toward the monster's least-defended flank and charged.
Eight tentacles retracted to intercept—but a dozen more converged from all sides.
She weaved through the onslaught, her blade a silver blur, carving through flesh as blood mist filled the air. To Gao Yang, she looked like a bloodstained white butterfly, dancing amid a forest of writhing shadows.
Officer Huang didn't let up either.
His "Gun God" talent let him fire with pinpoint accuracy—one bullet per second—picking off any tendrils that slipped past Qing Ling's sword.
The entire exchange lasted mere seconds.
Huang's gun clicked empty just as Qing Ling broke through the last line of defense. She pivoted, raising her blade high—
This is it.
Everyone expected the monster's "brain" to split like a rotten melon.
But they'd all forgotten the severed tentacles.
The moment Qing Ling committed to the strike, the discarded tendrils moved. They slithered across the ground like serpents, lashing at her heels in rapid succession.
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
Qing Ling stumbled. She recovered her footing instantly—but the disruption cost her the torque needed for a killing blow.
Her swing landed with half its intended force.
The blade still bit deep—but only a third of the way into the tumor.
Not enough.
"HUMAAAAAANS!"
The monster shrieked, fresh tentacles bursting forth to smash into Qing Ling's ribs.
"Ugh—!"
Her sword flew from her grip as she tumbled across the pavement. Yet even as she skidded to a stop, her right hand shot out toward the monster, fingers splayed wide.
"Metal—!"