Chapter 91: The Green Wanda
"What do you mean a speedster disappeared along with his target?"
Inside the transport plane's cabin, Green changed into a protective suit and spoke into his communicator with a chuckle,
"Speedsters usually die from arrogance, unless a faster speedster appears, but you know the odds of that are slim to none."
"I understand you have reason to be angry, Green. The reconstruction of the attack at the scene did confirm that A-Train was struck by some kind of blunt instrument while off guard."
On the other end of the line, Edgar spoke calmly,
"A blunt instrument?"
Green sat down with a thud, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it,
"Yes, some physically enhanced superhuman or Mutant. The accompanying drones were taken out halfway, and none of the employees in the truck survived, except for them."
"I can most likely infer that they were targeting Bruce Banner specifically. As for A-Train, he was just a bonus, an idiot."
Green exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching the white mist slowly dissipate before his eyes.
"There's nothing to be frustrated about. They'll be used as weapons sooner or later. When that time comes, it'll be clear who's behind this."
"Heh heh." Edgar chuckled low, his voice carrying a hint of appreciation,
"I like your rationality and your confidence, kid."
"I'll send people to follow up on the investigation, and I'll transfer the compensation to your account. Additionally, I'll give you a few extra safe houses."
"Then thanks."
"Until next time."
The call disconnected.
"What's wrong, Boss? Did the folks back home make you suffer a loss?"
Opposite him, a team member who was wiping a blade looked up and teased with a smile.
They were the elite squad for this mission. Stripping away the layer of lies, they were essentially a suicide squad,
Tasked with clearing the outer obstacles to save Green's stamina before he ventured deep into the canyon's core.
To this end, Drake had fulfilled all their wishes—money, families, unfulfilled dreams—everything had been arranged.
"Just didn't earn as much as I'd like. Things have actually become more interesting instead."
Green snorted a laugh, took the cigarette from his lips, and waved it in the air,
"Hmm?"
"Hehe..." That team member stood up with a grin and leaned in,
But a female team member was clearly faster.
She reached out, caught the cigarette between two fingers, pressed it to her lips, and took a deep drag,
"You're even snatching this? Luna." The team member glared in dissatisfaction.
"A late-arriving stray dog can only eat mud stained with shit."
Luna took a puff and slowly exhaled a smoke ring,
"Fuck you!"
The team member flashed a middle finger and sat back down, cursing under his breath,
"Hmm? Take a look."
Luna flexed her sturdy biceps and patted them with her other hand,
"I could use this muscle to crush those two hairless balls of yours."
She was a muscle-enhancement type superhuman with very high defense—so high that ordinary bullets only left a white mark on her,
"Hahaha..."
The surrounding team members burst into laughter,
"Go for it, Jeffrey! See if you can do it!"
"I'm curious if the sound of them bursting is a'squish' or a 'crack'!"
"Hahaha..."
The laughter grew even louder,
"All of you can go to hell, motherfuckers."
Jeffrey's face turned red. He looked around, gifted everyone a middle finger, and was rewarded with even more middle fingers in return.
"Alright, don't choke on your spit."
A steady voice rang out.
Ray called out. It wasn't loud or sharp, but everyone fell silent.
This team wasn't his direct command; to be precise, it was cobbled together from various other squads,
But Ray held high prestige within the Life Foundation's armed forces—so high that even these troublemakers were willing to listen to him. Green was also happy to have someone else handle the management.
"Scared? Is it your first time?"
Green looked sideways at the girl beside him. Her chestnut hair draped over her shoulders with slightly curled ends, her skin was fair, and her face was delicate, carrying the unique coldness of an Eastern European girl.
"Do you enjoy speaking with such ambiguity? How rude."
The girl raised a hand to steady her other slightly trembling palm. Then she lowered her head and used the sole of her boot to brush away a Stars and Stripes flag that someone had tossed onto her earlier.
"Oh~ I see." Green raised his hand, reaching behind her. He hooked his arm and used a finger to tilt her chin up,
"Hey!"
Wanda glared at him with her emerald-green eyes and broke free, her gaze filled with a hint of annoyance,
"Hmph... and here I thought you'd want me to be even ruder, Miss Wanda."
Green lowered his hand, a smile still playing on his lips,
He hadn't expected Drake to reach a cooperation with the snakehead of the Sokovia region—Baron Wolfgang von Strucker—and deploy Wanda, who was still in the training phase, for this mission.
They had even secured full-line transit authorization for international aviation, meaning the entire flight would take only nine hours to reach the target area.
One could only say that when Drake wasn't busy researching space and evil spirits, his brain actually worked quite well,
"Scum," Wanda countered bluntly.
"Don't praise me, I'll get proud." Green withdrew his hand and leaned back against the seat,
The cabin suddenly fell silent,
Which actually made Wanda feel a bit uncomfortable.
She felt a bit restless.
She glanced at the frivolous partner beside her. If no accidents occurred, he would accompany her to the very end, even if that end was death.
"Hey."
"My name isn't 'Hey'."
"Green."
"Who's Green?"
"Mr. Green."
"Mm-hmm?"
She paused, taking a deep breath,
"Why are we doing this?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of confusion,
"I mean, why us?"
Wanda didn't quite understand.
To be honest, she was only sixteen and a bit lost. For her, facing the danger of death so suddenly made her unable to stop resisting the upcoming unknown.
"So you are scared after all."
"Tch." Wanda turned her head away defiantly.
"I don't know either. I'm just going to hunt—to hunt those uninvited Beasts." Green's voice came from beside her,
Wanda turned back and gazed at him silently, her emerald-green eyes written with further questions.
"As for you... survive, and perhaps you'll have your answer."
"Then what about them?"
Wanda looked at the people around them. The team members were busy with their own things—cleaning guns, sleeping, staring blankly,
"Hmph." Green chuckled softly,
"You are the only one here without enough faith.
Even a stray dog has a reason to run—bones, flowers, being chased away, water, mating. They know it themselves, and I only care that they are my people."
"It's certainly not for patriotism, that's for sure," a team member chimed in with a laugh,
"Miss Wanda, I've helped you rule out one option."
"Hehe, I had my fill of fun before coming here. Now I've got a full bladder and I'm eager to go take a leak."
"My mother's illness is very rare, and the targeted specialty drugs are expensive. So I came. A life for a life," a man in the corner said calmly.
"Wow~ so cool~ John." The person next to him leaned over, winking,
"Want me to help you fire one last shot? Consider it a brotherly farewell salute."
"Get lost! Stay away from me!"
Laughter rang out again, along with some crude jokes.
Wanda watched the relaxed atmosphere around her, these people who were about to face death.
She looked sideways again at the man beside her who was playing Snake on a satellite phone, and her lips curled up unconsciously.
It felt... not bad. Even if they failed, it didn't seem so terrifying anymore.
Chapter 92: Black Lake, Visitor, Hunter
Above the canyon, about five hundred meters from the floor,
a quinjet hovered in place, its engines spewing faint blue tail flames. The Black Lake Squad had set out faster than the Green Squad—or rather, they were the emergency response team themselves.
The lower section of the canyon was shrouded in a layer of yellow mist, its depth unpredictable and its thickness hard to gauge by sight.
The aircraft's hatch slowly opened,
and the early morning moisture whistled as it poured into the cabin, making everyone's clothes flap loudly.
Red lights flashed inside the cabin.
"Remember your mission!"
The officer standing in the center of the cabin shouted sternly.
He wore a heavy protective suit with his visor down, revealing only his cold, hard eyes.
"Your lives belong to the country, dedicated to the people! You will likely face certain death, but no matter what, complete it!"
"For America!"
The soldiers shouted in unison.
The voice was uniform and fanatical, echoing in the narrow cabin. There was no hesitation, no fear—or rather, the fear had been suppressed to the deepest depths by their training.
They raised their hands and pushed two coffin-shaped iron crates from the center of the cabin toward the hatch.
The iron crates slid out and plunged into the night sky.
Falling. Falling. When they reached a certain distance, the parachutes deployed automatically. Poof. White canopies bloomed above the yellow mist, carrying the heavy crates as they drifted down.
Immediately after, the soldiers jumped out one by one.
Their figures vanished at the hatch, swallowed by the darkness and shrouded by the yellow mist. Parachutes bloomed one after another like a string of white flowers, drifting toward the unknown abyss.
The officer was last in line.
He turned his head and looked at the last soldier.
The man stood still, his body trembling slightly under the protective suit, his fists clenched.
"You know what you have to do," the officer said.
The soldier nodded slowly, his eyes behind the visor filled with hesitation. He was very afraid.
"You have no choice."
The officer noticed, his gaze falling on this "human bomb."
Yes, this was a Mutant—not even a soldier. He had no rank, no serial number, only a clandestine file.
But his ability was an indispensable part of this operation.
And those soldiers were also necessities—sacrifices.
Because this Mutant's ability was extremely unique. After absorbing enough flesh and souls, he would actively trigger a self-explosion.
According to the research department's assessment, this explosion was not physical but rather leaned toward the magic side. Its energy release pattern was enough to forcibly tear reality and create an unstable space-time rift.
Exactly what was needed to expand the dimensional channel.
Whether it was to make the active ecology here perceive a threat and actively accelerate dimensional fusion, or to intensify the speed of dimensional expansion, both were ways to achieve the goal.
"I know," the Mutant looked up at the officer.
"Don't forget your promise. Release my sister."
"Just do your part." The officer pulled down his specialized goggles.
Would he keep it? Of course not. His sister was an excellent experimental subject. But how could he extinguish a good brother's hope, even if he was an outlier, a member of the same race that killed his wife and daughter?
"Move out." The officer stepped out of the hatch and jumped.
The Mutant stood in place, dazed for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and followed.
The quinjet's hatch slowly closed.
The engines increased power, and the aircraft climbed, quickly disappearing into the clouds.
For Black Lake, everyone in this operation was a sacrificial lamb, a bomb that would detonate itself, needing only a bit of insignificant faith—including the officer.
...
Meanwhile,
inside the dilapidated town,
countless skeletons fused into a massive cathedral wall.
The decayed wooden door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. Without anyone touching it, it just opened on its own, the hinges letting out a sharp creak like a dying man's groan.
White mist gushed out.
No, it crawled into the cathedral like a living thing, like countless transparent snakes slithering along the floor, climbing onto pews, scaling pillars, and spreading everywhere.
The drafty wooden walls let in an ominous purple light. The light seeped through the cracks, casting mottled, writhing shadows on the floor.
Wind poured in through the gaps, its whistling sounding like a skeleton blowing a whistle—sharp and desolate.
Thick layers of pale cobwebs hung down from the pews.
On those pews, skeletons sat with bowed heads as if praying.
The webs draped over them like layers of shrouds, or like the silent pleas of Silent Sisters, begging for forgiveness—forgiveness for them, who had caused all these sins.
At the very front, a black table stood.
On the table, the extinguished white candles had burned out. The wax had melted and solidified, eerily flowing along both sides of the tabletop to form an inverted Cross.
The white mist climbed up the table legs and clung to the candlestick, like a prostitute's body pressing against a client, entangling and intimate.
Flames inexplicably rose from the bottom of the inverted Cross. It wasn't ignited; it "appeared."
The fire spread along the wax trails, lighting up the entire inverted Cross. The orange-red firelight illuminated the black table and the wall behind it.
The wall also began to burn.
A spark of fire ignited in the center of the wall and quickly spread outward, "carving" marks into the surface. An inverted Cross gradually took shape, identical to the wax marks on the table.
It was as if an invisible force had carved the candlestick's inverted Cross onto the wall.
Suddenly, the middle of the inverted Cross on the wall split open. In that thin wooden plank wall, a gap appeared.
Grotesque. Eerie.
The edges of the rift were not wood, but pink flesh.
The flesh rolled and writhed, covered by a thin cocoon membrane like a newborn's skin or the inner wall of some organ.
A pair of slender fingers poked through the membrane.
The fingers were very white and thin, with distinct knuckles and pale pink nails. The fingertips poked out and gently brushed aside the membrane.
Puff!
A foul stench surged out.
The smell was a mix of rotting meat, blood, and something indescribable.
It bored into the nasal cavity, stimulating the depths of the brain. The sensation rushed straight to the lower abdomen, as if some aphrodisiac toxin had been injected.
A bright red light shone through from the other side of the rift.
The light was warm and ambiguous, like a lover's gaze or the candlelight by a bedside. It illuminated the edges of the rift, the slender hands, and the figure stepping out.
A humanoid figure walked out, about three meters tall.
Its figure was slender and perfect, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist—and it was also intersex.
Wings grew from its wrists. They were small, like butterfly wings, thin and transparent, with edges shimmering with a faint golden light.
They flapped gently, yet without any sound of wind, as if vibrating in another dimension.
The skin was the color of a white candle—an active, soft, seemingly warm white that felt as if it could ignite desire with a single touch.
It had no facial features.
There was only a layer of writhing facial skin. The skin moved slowly, sometimes bulging and sometimes sinking, as if searching for something or adapting to this World.
"Why... does this World sucked dry by the Old Gods still exist?"
"I'smell' their traces. Have they left?"
The ethereal voice floated doubtfully within the cathedral. It had no source, sounding as if it came from all directions at once and directly in the mind.
It tilted its head, seemingly finding this contrary to its logic, but no living being could answer it except for some speechless skeletons.
"I don't understand."
Suddenly, its head lifted. An invisible "gaze" shot out from that blank face, piercing through the cathedral roof, through layers of mist, and across a vast distance to land on a certain existence on the horizon.
"But..."
The ethereal voice suddenly gained a bit of warmth—the kind of warmth that reminded one of lust and the shiver of soul and body merging.
"I feel it... the hunter's scent."
On its "face," the writhing skin suddenly split open, revealing the pink, pulsating inner lining—like a mouth, or something more private...
"I truly look forward to the pleasure of becoming one with him."
Wind hissed through the cathedral. At some point, a stone statue had appeared under the dome—a pure white statue of the Crucifixion of Jesus.
However, it was upside down—head down, feet up, arms spread wide like a pinned bat.
And the torn opening did not close.
Suddenly, a slender humanoid claw grabbed the edge, and a deformed, lanky figure crawled out of the hole.
Then, more followed. Those figures emerged from the bright red light one by one, crawling into the dilapidated cathedral.
The invasion had begun.
Six hours and forty-five minutes later,
a dark shadow broke through the thick yellow mist, falling from the high sky accompanied by a shower of sparks. The figure tore through the mist, trailing a plume of smoke like pus oozing from a wound.
Below was a twisted woodland.
A humanoid fused with tree genes looked up at the falling black dot. Its bark-like skin sprouted tender green buds, and it sat atop a Plant Horse.
The horse had no fur, only a body formed from thick, intertwined vines. A tuft of crimson mane—or rather, blood vessels—grew from its nape, held like reins.
The black dot drew closer, then suddenly vanished. A flash of light swept past.
The light was too fast—so fast the humanoid couldn't even react. Only a white afterimage remained in its "vision," extending from its head down to its crotch.
It lowered its head and looked at its body.
A thin line of blood ran from the center of its forehead, down past the bridge of its nose, through its chest and abdomen, all the way to the Plant Horse beneath it.
It tried to speak, but as soon as its mouth opened, its upper body slid apart from the middle like a sliced fruit, the two halves tilting to either side.
Dark green fluid surged from the cut, mixed with tiny vines and unformed branches.
The Plant Horse beneath it also split in two.
The two corpses crashed into the soil, splashing up wet, rotting leaves and debris.
The soil, laden with tiny vines, churned to reveal dense clusters of black insects underneath.
They were the size of black beans with shiny carapaces, so numerous they looked like a flow of black water.
They surged from the cracks in the soil, crawling onto the corpses, covering the cuts, and boring into the wounds. The sound of gnawing was faint and dense, like countless tiny mouths chewing simultaneously.
"This really whets the appetite," a muffled voice came from inside the mask.
4:15 AM.
Green landed in the canyon.
Chapter 93: Carnivorous Forest Zone
White mist gushed from the ditches like a crazed growth of fungi, spreading out layer by layer to cover the viscous, blood-colored, rib-like mouthparts on the ground.
Those mouthparts were half-buried in the soil, their edges covered in barbs, opening and closing slightly like Venus flytraps waiting for prey to step in before snapping shut, sticking, and digesting.
Twisted branches flickered in and out of sight within the mist, their joints bent at eerie angles like the final dance of a dying man—arms raised high, fingertips convulsing, frozen in a moment of ultimate despair.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire spat out within the deathly silent forest.
The flashes of light flickered, illuminating the surrounding twisted trunks and the Treant Cavalry charging out from the distant woods within the mist.
Those cavalrymen rode Plant Horses and surged in from all directions. They were very fast, and the sound of the horses' hooves was so faint they could barely be detected until they were within four or five meters.
The squad was arranged in a single-file line.
Nineteen people, spaced three meters apart, with muzzles pointed in their respective directions.
Boots stepped on the soft, decaying leaves, making a faint rustling sound. No one spoke; only occasional tactical hand signals cut through the air as they advanced slowly, alert to the murderous intent around them.
"It seems some guests arrived before us."
In the middle of the line, Green Morgan raised his head, his gaze falling on the corpse of a soldier hanging from a tree trunk by the roadside.
The corpse was impaled by branches and suspended in mid-air, its limbs dangling limply.
Bizarrely, the corpse and the branches seemed to have merged into one—no, it wasn't 'merged,' it was that the branches were 'eating' the soldier's flesh, like a snake's mouth swallowing prey several times its own size.
A massive bulge swelled in the middle of the trunk, the bark stretched so tight it shone, revealing a blurry humanoid outline beneath.
The corpse was being stuffed into that bulge bit by bit. First, the lower body disappeared completely, then the waist, until only the head and shoulders remained exposed, being digested slowly and resolutely.
"It's likely because of the fall through the yellow mist," Ray's voice came through the communication headset built into the mask.
"There was a powerful Mental Shock at the time, like a hangover banging against a corner; he couldn't control his direction."
"Poor guy."
Green Morgan withdrew his gaze and continued forward.
"His soul has vanished," Wanda suddenly spoke beside him.
"Inside the tree?" Green Morgan asked.
"No." Wanda lowered her eyes.
"Not below, either."
"I can sense a massive yet immature Collective Consciousness beneath this canyon."
"Then can we ask it not to be so 'welcoming'?" a squad member chimed in, his tone tinged with helplessness.
"There's no end to killing these things."
He fired a few shots, headshotting a Treant Knightpouncing from the side. The headless corpse wobbled and tumbled off its horse.
"It's more than that." Luna crouched down, using the tip of her knife to pry open a wound on a corpse for inspection.
"They are evolving toward directional defense. The density of the Vine Armor's cuticle has significantly increased, and their puncture resistance has improved."
"The tissue structure of the horse bodies is showing a sludgy trend, suspected to be physiological remodeling to adapt to a swampy combat environment."
"Dammit," a squad member cursed under his breath.
"We've maneuvered on foot through this forest for over five kilometers, but the terrain still hasn't shown the expected transition zone. What the hell."
"The map is fine, so the problem is here." Green Morgan looked at the dense forest ahead that seemed to have no end.
"The space within this canyon must have undergone a Spatial Expansion; it's harder than imagined." Luna stood up and rejoined the squad.
Just then, a centipede as thick as an adult's arm suddenly drilled out from beneath her feet.
The thing broke through the soft, decaying leaves, its hundreds of arthropod legs swaying simultaneously like rows of fine serrations.
It climbed up her leg with extreme speed, its dense legs entangling her calf.
"Shit!"
Luna instinctively shook her leg, trying to fling the thing off, but the centipede's barbs caught the clothing fibers. Those barbs were curved like fishhooks, embedding themselves into the fabric of her tactical suit, making it impossible to shake off.
At the same time, she drew the knife from her outer thigh and stabbed backward into the gaps of the centipede's carapace.
Clang!
Sparks flew, but she didn't break its defense; instead, the knife snapped.
The centipede's mouthparts pierced directly into Luna's calf, tearing through the reinforced skin and flesh.
It wasn't just this one.
The ground all around began to churn as dozens of centipedes of the same size drilled out from all directions. The friction of their legs produced a dense rustling sound, like countless pieces of metal scraping together, as they lunged at everyone.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire spat out. Bullets hit the carapaces, sending sparks flying but leaving only faint white marks. Those shells were as hard as alloy.
One centipede leaped up suddenly, lunging straight for a squad member's face.
"Damn it!"
The squad member's pupils constricted as he watched the pair of pitch-black mouthparts rapidly enlarge in his field of vision.
An arc of light flashed.
The centipede was severed in half in mid-air, green fluids exploding and splashing all over his face. Green Morgan swept past him, his soul-releasing blade still dripping with liquid.
The squad member froze for a second before reacting. He raised his gun and fired at the severed but still writhing centipede on the ground.
The bullet hit the soft belly, fluids splattered, and those legs twitched a few times before finally stopping.
"The weak point is the front!" he shouted repeatedly.
As soon as he finished speaking,
A crimson light shone from behind.
Wanda extended both hands forward, two clusters of crimson energy light manifesting in her palms.
The light pulsed as if alive, simultaneously appearing on the bodies of the climbing centipedes. Each one's belly was enveloped in a faint red glow.
She clenched her fist and pulled.
The soft bellies of those centipedes were simultaneously torn open from a distance. Innards and fluids gushed from the gashes, and they slid off the squad members one by one, their legs twitching twice before going still.
"Oh, fuck!"
Gilly pulled his knife out of a centipede's belly, the blade covered in viscous green slime.
He shook his hand, but the slime stuck to his gloves and wouldn't come off no matter how much he shook.
"I feel like I've been fucked all over by these bugs."
He panted in disgust. These centipedes had absurd strength; he felt like he had just been wrestling with a two-hundred-pound brute.
"Gilly."
A squad member on the other side called out to him.
Gilly turned his head and followed the man's gaze to his own body.
There were several puncture wounds on his tactical suit, gushing blood. Those centipedes specifically targeted arteries.
"Uh oh." He grinned.
"Good news: no poison." He looked down at his wounds, then raised his head again.
"Bad news: at this rate of bleeding, I'll go into shock and croak in less than a minute."
He wasn't the only one; several other squad members hadn't withstood the ambush either.
And similar insects were still drilling out of the ground: Eyeball Spiders, Human-head Ladybugs, Finger Hairworms...
"Then you cover the rear."
The squad member said this as he kicked away a lunging bug and raised his gun to blast it apart.
As for Green Morgan, he had already hoisted the limping Luna onto his shoulder and charged to the very front, vanishing from sight.
"No problem," Gilly smiled.
"See you later, Bro." The squad member turned and ran, grabbing the dazed Wanda nearby as he went.
Wanda was dragged along for two steps before suddenly shaking off his hand and running on her own.
Gilly watched that chestnut-haired silhouette and gave a cool two-finger salute from his forehead.
"Goodbye, Miss Wanda."
Wanda bit her lip and didn't look back.
"Let's go to hell together, boys." Gilly raised his left arm, looked at the red button on his terminal, and pressed it.
The C4 strapped behind his chest's bulletproof vest began its countdown. Ten seconds. Nine... eight...
"You still fucking owe me thirteen dollars for drinks! What a loss!"
"If I'd known, I would've brought my sister's panties to take a few more sniffs."
"Just die already, you pervert."
"Hehehe..."
Laughter echoed in the earpieces.
Just then, the Treant Cavalry charged over in great numbers—dozens of them.
"Still making a profit! Hahaha!!"
"Let them go down and give me a blowjob!"
Several squad members raised their guns to shoot, but the bugs beneath their feet bit through their protective suits, and even more bugs crawled inside.
They squeezed into their bodies, squirming beneath their skin.
Grey-white insect shells piled up around them, crowding together like wreaths made of solidified bone ash.
A few cavalrymen fell, but even more charged forward. Soon, someone was impaled by a spear, and their head was hacked off.
But...
The countdown ended.
BOOM—
Several figures vanished in the flash of fire, torn apart, evaporated, and erased by the searing air currents.
The Impact spread in all directions, blowing away the Treant Cavalry, burning the crawling insects to ash, and uprooting the surrounding trees.
The orange fireball expanded,
Adding a touch of romance capable of melting steel to this unsettling atmosphere.
Chapter 94: Breakout
Green ran all the way out of the forest zone.
Sparks drifted down from the sky like scattered fireflies, orange-red, slowly falling through the dim yellow mist.
They landed on shoulders, in hair, and on the decaying leaves underfoot, making a faint sizzling sound before going out.
Meanwhile, the mist on the ground grew thicker.
The mist surged from the cracks in the soil, floating upward like steam, slowly rising past ankles and knees.
Unlike the forest zone, however, this mist was mostly gas drifting from the pores of scattered human bodies.
Pale and warm.
Ahead were thinning tree roots and twisted human bodies.
More apparent than in the forest zone.
The corpses were no longer hanging from trees or being swallowed by trunks; here, the human bodies were like seeds, with things "sprouting" and growing out of them.
Tearing through flesh, piercing ribs, struggling, agonizing, twisting—tender shoots grew from eye sockets, thick vines burst from abdomens, and roots broke through soles to anchor them into the soil, pinning the people in place.
Their postures looked more like they were calling for help from something moving within the mist.
They leaned forward, arms reaching out, fingers splayed, mouths agape.
Seen vaguely through the mist, they looked like a group of figures walking into the distance, except they could no longer move, pinned to this land by their own flesh and blood.
"It's just like the hell in my dreams," Luna smiled, her voice slightly breathless.
"The unknown, terror, confusion, despair."
"Then that's perfect," Green said, casually setting her down. "Just consider it a homecoming."
"Hiss!"
Luna stumbled a few steps upon landing, clutching her stomach, one leg slightly lifted, grimacing in pain.
"Boss, you really don't know how to please a girl. I was bounced around until I almost puked."
"Not going to bandage it?"
Green glanced at her, his gaze falling on her injured leg; blood flowed down her calf, dripping into the mist beneath her feet.
Luna looked down.
"Forget it. The protective suit is torn; I suspect I'm already infected. A dying person doesn't need a useless bow."
She looked up, smiling freely.
She tapped the ground twice; her injured leg wobbled but then stood firm.
"Let me escort you a bit further, Boss."
She looked at Green; there was no fear or pleading in her eyes, only a calm, matter-of-fact composure.
"At least let me die on the road."
Green didn't speak; he just flicked the blood off his blade, glanced at the team hurrying behind him, and then turned to step into the area shrouded in corpses and mist.
"Heh... heh..."
Wanda panted heavily, hands pressed against her knees. She bent over, her lungs feeling as if they were stuffed with burning cotton; every breath tasted of blood.
The team members beside her stopped to guard her, which instead made her afraid or unwilling to stop; she didn't want to know the price of stopping.
Gritting her teeth, some residual strength surged from somewhere within her; she straightened up and continued walking forward briskly.
"Disgusting things, just like matcha macaroni."
Luna raised her rifle, kneeling on one knee, and aimed at the swarm of insects surging from behind.
Bang—
A grenade was launched, and fire exploded in the center of the swarm; limbs flew and fluids splattered as a large section of the crawling things was overturned.
She covered the remaining people as they successfully ran out.
At the edge of the forest zone, the Treant Cavalry stopped, watching the receding figures without pursuing or roaring, just watching silently.
"Stop thinking about your dad's big dick, motherfucker! Hehehe..."
The last team member looked back, grinning as he raised a middle finger that was only half-length; the other half had disappeared into some bug's mouth.
Then he turned to catch up.
The group continued forward. The ground was completely obscured; they couldn't tell if their next step would be deep or shallow. Their boots stepped onto solid ground sometimes, soft rotten flesh other times, or empty pits.
Green and Wanda were still in the middle of the group, though the group's length had shortened considerably.
A crimson halo spread across the ground like ripples, expanding outward circle by circle to scout the surroundings, covering a circular area of about ten meters—just enough to encompass the team.
Wherever the light and shadow swept, hidden pits, lurking roots, and mouthparts buried in the soil briefly revealed their outlines.
"You should conserve it," Green said coolly, his eyes fixed on the mist ahead.
"This magic consumes your spirit, doesn't it? Don't tell me you need to go to bed early in the middle of the fight."
Wanda turned her head, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
A few seconds of silence passed.
"I just... don't want to feel guilty."
"Hmph, sentimental woman," Ray's laughter came from ahead.
"Just like my daughter."
"Bought a tombstone yet?" Green asked.
He casually pulled out a camera and pressed the shutter at Ray and the person beside him. As a war correspondent, he had to do his job at least a little, though he doubted anyone would dare publish these photos.
"Yeah~ No. What would I need that for? Wait for some politician to do biochemical experiments and dig up my bones? They'd probably be disappointed; there's nothing inside."
Ray looked back and made a peace sign; that brief playful tone flickered and vanished, quickly returning to his steady, deep voice.
"Then where will your daughter go to see you?" Green tucked the camera away; it would need a cleaning from the Research and Development Department before he could take it out again.
"She doesn't know I exist, but I've already arranged everything for her."
"Oh."
Green glanced at the system panel; his slaughter valuehad accumulated to 68%.
"Distribute evenly."
[Command confirmed.]
[Consuming slaughter value...]
[Consumption complete.]
[Rider Kick]
Level: 5 → 7
Trait 1: Physical / Finishing Move / Jumping Skill. Deals physical damage to a single enemy ranging from a minimum of 180% Attack Power to the maximum physical endurance of the target.
[Rider Punch]
Level: 5 → 7
Trait 1: Physical / Burst Skill / Guard Break Skill. Deals 170% Attack Power as blunt damage to a single target in front, ignoring 9% of the target's defense.
Green clenched his fists, feeling a more substantial sense of security.
Suddenly, he sensed something and swiftly raised his blade.
Clang!
An arrow was split in two, flying past Wanda's cheek and pinning itself into the nearby mist.
After the arrow broke, it could be vaguely seen that it was a bone.
"Visibility is too restricted!"
"Flare sticks!" Ray shouted.
Everyone simultaneously pulled flare sticks from their waists and struck them.
Blinding white light instantly exploded, casting long shadows into the thick mist.
The mist was pierced by the light.
Within the mist, those figures slowly turned their heads—facial bones that were now mere empty shells.
A foreign object shot out from a mouth, shattering a fresh flower held in the jaw, striking like a bullet through the mist and piercing directly through a team member's shoulder.
"What the hell is that!"
"Teeth!" Green parried dozens of others flying in, his blade clashing with the teeth in mid-air almost invisibly, striking sparks.
"Shatter them! Don't get bogged down in the fight!" Ray roared, his voice exploding amidst the gunfire.
"What do you think I'm doing, old man!"
A tall, sturdy team member shouldered a heavy machine gun, the muzzle spitting tongues of fire that flickered in the mist.
Bullets poured out like a rainstorm, shredding the approaching human bodies into fragments; bones exploded and flesh flew.
Everyone opened fire; the gunfire was as dense as a small-scale war. Those twisted bodies shattered, fell, and were torn apart in the barrage.
But the hidden, hard-to-detect shots still left them unable to dodge in time; they didn't care, picking themselves up and continuing to fire as if numbed.
Wanda was also resisting with all her might.
Her hands were spread open, and a crimson light shrouded the surrounding ground.
The vine-like tentacles growing from the human bodies slithered on the ground like living tongues, winding toward her, but upon reaching a certain distance, they seemed to be slid away by something, unable to enter.
Green stood beside her, effortlessly parrying some incoming shots.
"A dentist would be thrilled to see they have so much stock."
One team member said with a laugh; his smile was a bit forced, his mouth twitching, and half of his body had already lost sensation.
"Fuck! I can't feel half my body anymore." He had been hit too many times and could no longer keep up with the team.
"Bad luck."
He stopped of his own accord and smilingly pressed the button on his chest.
Boom—
A ball of fire erupted.
Orange-red flames instantly engulfed his figure, spreading outward in all directions.
The shockwave was like an invisible wall, slamming into everyone's backs and also into the things closing in.
The mist was blown away.
Within a radius of dozens of meters, the field of vision was as clear as if it had been washed.
"If they made a haunted house here, it would be great—deadly great!" another team member cursed through gritted teeth, looking at the still-burning fire.
"At least this loudmouth's explosion was loud enough. Keep running!" someone nearby shouted.
As soon as the words fell, over a dozen humanoid Beasts lunged out from the mist ahead.
Fatty white skin with a slight oily sheen on the surface, long thin bodies so gaunt they were just skin and bones, and heads with split-opening Kaiju-like mouthparts filled with layers of sharp teeth.
Standing upright, they were over two meters tall.
The group reacted quickly and opened fire!
Bullets exploded into blood blossoms on them, but they were limited to the muscle layer and could not penetrate; the bullet heads embedded in the pale flesh were soon squeezed out by newly grown sprouts.
Except for the one that lunged at Green.
A flash of blade light.
The Beast was sliced in two from shoulder to waist; the two halves fell to the ground, twitching and gushing dark red blood.
However...
"It feels a bit empty to cut."
Green looked at the corpse on the ground with some doubt; it wasn't a lack of the sensation of cutting flesh, but rather... the absence of a soul's demise.
The vines on the ground moved; slender tentacles drilled out of the soil and into the cut surfaces of the two halves.
They wriggled and sutured, rejoining the severed flesh; the corpse shook its head twice, twitched, and actually stood up again.
They bypassed the team and spread out, their postures leaning toward that of a cheetah—on all fours, spines arched, making the most of their physical advantages to easily match the group's running speed, always staying about ten meters away, and their numbers were increasing.
Ten, twenty, thirty.
They were waiting.
"Worker ants? Which brain do they obey? Ecology, or something from another dimension?" Green thought, squinting.
[Note: Worker ants in a colony are'soldiers'; they have basically no independent decision-making ability and completely obey the queen and pheromone instructions, responsible only for labor, execution, and defense.]
These were just dead flesh; if they didn't break through, they would be dragged here and waste a massive amount of physical strength. But as for breaking out...
He turned his eyes toward the endless area of human bodies.
"Dragons Breath might not reach the end; there are too many."
He wasn't sure how far the space here had been expanded.
"The speed is too slow now," a team member's breathless voice came through the earpiece.
"These things are gathering; once they reach a certain amount, we won't be able to escape."
"Abandon us. It's time to be of one last use."
"A little longer."
"Have you gone soft-hearted?" Luna teased, her voice breathless but still smiling.
"No."
"Let's split up. We'll draw most of the attention. Don't fail."
"That's it. There are enough guests here already; you guys should vacate the spot," Ray spoke up.
"You heard him."
Green looked at Wanda.
"...Understood."
"Then keep up."
Green's running posture faltered for a moment as he lowered his body.
In the next instant, his figure suddenly flashed, breaking through the mist.
Simultaneously, a blade light sliced the waist of the Kaiju-mouthed beast in his path into two.
A crimson chain connected the accelerating Green from a distance; one end was tied to his waist, and the other was wrapped around Wanda's wrist.
Wanda's body was jerked up, her whole being glowing with a crimson halo as she glided through the air, being dragged forward like a kite on a string.
And back at the starting point, a bright red flare was fired into the high sky.
The light tore through the mist, trailing a long tail of smoke, going up and up like a drop of blood dripping upward toward the crown of that boundless yellow mist.
The gunfire continued, flickering under the light of the flare, like a pack of wild dogs being devoured by a swarm of Beasts, letting out their final roars.
Chapter 95: Sweet Poison
Forward! Keep moving forward!
Blade light wove into a dense net, shuttling through the fog like flowing light. With every swing, a figure would fall from mid-air, sliced in two and crashing into the mud.
The roars of the Beast horde rose and fell in succession. Green Morgan shuttled among them; wherever his blade passed, flesh flew and fluids splattered.
Beside him, and even further away, more Beasts stepped on the muddy ground, passing him in dull, silent movements.
Their target was not him.
They were rushing toward that blood-red light in the distance, where gunfire was still flashing.
"Once we arrive, you 'fragile' ones stay on the sidelines. Protect yourselves, and don't let anger cloud what little sanity you have left."
Green Morgan spoke, his voice drifting from the corner of his mouth to the ears of Wanda, who was dragging along behind him like a sled.
"I won't."
Wanda said earnestly, crimson light swirling around her body.
"Better that way. If you drag me down, I'll slaughter you first."
The gaze behind him was somewhat resentful, but Green Morgan didn't care; he was locked onto by an extremely powerful presence.
He could perceive that distinct, direct gaze landing on him, pressing onto his shoulders like a physical weight, carrying some indescribable meaning. Curiosity? Scrutiny? Or...
And he was closing in on the other party. It was almost time.
Inside the dilapidated town, the streets were desolate. The buildings on both sides were nothing but broken walls, covered in dark red vines.
Those vines pulsed slightly like blood vessels, occasionally extending tiny tentacles from cracks to probe the air.
Two naked humanoids walked in the lead, their eyes pitch black, with semi-open brain instruments embedded in the back of their skulls.
Metal, silver-white, with edges nailed into the skull, exposing the circuits and tiny indicator lights inside. The indicator lights emitted a faint red glow.
Their abdomens were hollowed out, and the wet, greasy bloody intestines flowing from the cavities were tied around their waists by the group, swaying as they stumbled forward.
The Beasts wandering around approached, lowered their heads, nudged the two humanoids with their pod-like tips, then turned and left, ignoring them further.
"Fortunately, these two 'living bodies' are still useful here."
The officer breathed a sigh of relief.
His left arm had been almost completely torn off, the stump jagged, revealing shattered bones and dark red muscle inside. The bleeding had stopped, but the edges of the wound had turned black, as if infected by something.
This was left by a Human-Faced Bear when he passed through the forest area.
It was two stories tall, could imitate the cry of an infant, and its back was covered in Hive-like holes, inhabited by a type of tiny bee. The nerve-toxin needles they shot could control humans.
It was this bear that killed most of the squad.
If it weren't for the Research Department injecting toxin into that pair of idiots who were supposed to guard the lighthouse but instead destroyed it, turning them into living biological identifiers, they wouldn't even have made it out of the forest area.
But these living bodies seemed only effective for the low-level Beasts here.
The high-level ones had already developed intelligence.
They were evolving. From "It" to "He/She."
In those human-headed tree areas, he had also encountered a group of human-skinned flying fish. They were the size of a palm, floating in mid-air, chasing them until they stopped at the edge of the town.
By now, only four of them remained.
"Can I self-destruct now?"
The Mutant Soldier took off his mask, his expression blank.
"No." The officer's tone carried a hint of helplessness.
He had already asked this question a dozen times along the way.
No, were young people nowadays this impatient?
Just because his house was blown up, his girlfriend killed, his sister kidnapped, and he was accidentally castrated while testing his Mutant abilities, he wanted to give up on life?
The Mutant Soldier didn't respond, his eyes hollow.
"We'll get the best effect if we detonate after we obtain the space core. When the time comes, let me pass through first, then you detonate."
"So, where is the space core?" The Mutant Soldier only wanted to self-destruct.
The officer looked down at the tracking watch on his left wrist; the screen was black. Since entering here, it had been black, just like his face.
"...Let's look for it. This town doesn't have spatial overlapping; it's not that big." He sighed, as if the seatbelt wasn't safe at a critical moment, the tracking device was the same.
"Good thing we got in successfully." A surviving Soldiersmiled, finding joy in misery.
"The The Foundation people didn't have living guides. They just rushed in headlong. Maybe they've already become fertilizer for the forest area."
"I heard an explosion in another direction of the forest area. You heard it too. Very brave, and stupid enough. Those things should just be hit by bombers with incendiary bombs and wiped out!"
Another Soldier chimed in. He leaned against a broken wall, gasping for breath, turning his head to look at the thick fog behind him.
"Save some energy for mocking the enemy." The officer's voice deepened.
"Our protective suits won't last much longer either."
Although he said that, he also felt that the other team had most likely been wiped out.
As for him—for them—they were ninety percent successful.
The officer turned around, looking at the pervasive, eerie purple light, his eyes somewhat dazed, as if he had penetrated this eerie purple light and seen another World, or rather, a person.
"Soon, Lena. I will find a way to resurrect you. If science cannot save you, then I will pursue faith, even if I once scoffed at it, even if I offer my soul to a Evil God of another dimension."
He whispered, his voice dissipating in the dead silence of Mars, but it fell into the abyss like a feather, disturbing something—not because of the sound itself, but... the emotion in the voice called "longing."
The fog on the ground seemed to thicken.
Those pale mists surged from all directions, gradually solidifying. They were no longer fleeting gases but had texture, like countless transparent hands kneading clay in the air.
The few people walked, panting, their breathing becoming heavier and heavier.
Something was pressing on their internal organs—not a heavy object, but some more subtle pressure growing from within.
"Why... why is the body consuming so much?" The Soldier's uncomfortable voice came from behind the mask, intermittent.
"We've only walked less than a few hundred meters... but it's more painful than my anaerobic sprint."
"Walking in the domain of a high-level entity with a mortal body requires a price."
The officer was also not having an easy time, but his eyes were incredibly fanatical.
"This just proves that I came to the right place!" He quickened his pace, unable to wait.
In a trance, his peripheral vision seemed to see something.
A White dress, bare feet beneath the hem, standing on a mossy stone protruding by the roadside.
He walked a few steps, his body suddenly stiffened, and he turned his head mechanically, looking at the woman in the White dress in disbelief.
So real, so beautiful, so gentle—like the person he had seen in painful dreams ten thousand times, yet could never grasp upon waking.
"Haa..." His voice got stuck in his throat.
"You look exhausted, Vic."
The woman's familiar voice called out with a raised smile, fine smile lines at the corners of her eyes, exactly the same as in his memory.
"Lena? Did the Grim Reaper let you return?"
In a trance, he forgot something; it seemed his goal didn't matter anymore. What he craved had already been realized.
"Heh." The woman laughed.
"You're still as silly as the first time, but you've become ugly."
The woman beckoned to him, as if calling a lost puppy.
"And you are still as beautiful."
The officer's eyes were sore, tears blurred his vision, his voice choked with sobs. His footsteps involuntarily walked toward her, but he didn't notice that the bloody intestines on his body were gone.
And the others didn't remind him; their gazes were also attracted.
"I can take that as your most decent love confession." Lena laughed.
"Heh." Vic couldn't help but laugh, his stiff waist bending, as if he had let down his guard.
Boundless joy flooded his brain, surging up like a tide, drowning out all vigilance and suspicion.
He took off his black glove, his trembling hand covering her palm.
Puchi!
A long blade pierced through Lena's right chest, then through Vic's heart, protruding from his back. The tip of the blade was stained with blood, dripping onto the ground.
"Haa!"
Vic's hand paused, but the next second, he still firmly placed it there, just like at the first dance.
Even though... his hand passed through Lena's palm, through the air, touching nothing.
"I... knew it."
He bared his blood-filled teeth, looking at Lena, who was still smiling at him.
"But I didn't dare to gamble. What if... what if it really was you?"
The strength supporting his muscles was draining away. He fell to his knees, his head hanging down, blood seeping from the edge of his mask and falling into the fog at his feet.
"This also... also counts as success..."
His voice grew lighter and lighter, as light as a whisper in a dream.
"I'm coming to find you... Lena."
The woman leaned down, hugging his head tightly, her gaze still gentle.
"I'm right here." She said softly.
Even though the luster in Vic's eyes had already faded, even though he could no longer hear anything, her body turned into mist, faintly fading, dissipating.
And Vic's body emitted White mist, intertwining with it, entangled together.