The next second.
Boom!
The sheep that had swallowed the core suddenly began to twitch violently.
A heart-palpitating, eerie aura erupted instantly. The originally docile sheep began to emit a dense, blood-red glow.
Crack, crack, crack!
Accompanied by the sound of bones popping, the sheep's limbs began to elongate and twist in a bizarre fashion.
Its body, which had been lying on the ground, actually stood up slowly.
The two curved horns on its head turned pitch black as ink, becoming as sharp as daggers.
The originally dull sheep eyes had turned into eerie vertical pupils, flashing with a scarlet light.
Buzz.
A red halo centered on it, instantly spreading out and enveloping dozens of meters around it.
"Is this... a dread domain?"
Harry stood outside the safety barrier, subconsciously looking toward the satyr looking man.
The moment their eyes met.
"Ugh."
Harry felt as if his brain had been struck hard. Countless noisy, frenzied whispers exploded in his ears, and his thoughts instantly fell into chaos.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The Totems of Undying on all the researchers present who looked at the satyr shattered almost simultaneously.
"Don't look! Move your eyes away quickly!"
Harry let out a scream, hurriedly covering his eyes and turning his back.
"Sorry, Director."
A deep, raspy voice came from the satyr's mouth.
"Just now... I hadn't adapted to the body yet and forgot to retract my passive ability."
"This is Mental Pollution."
The satyr raised its front hooves, which had turned into the shape of human palms, and gently clenched them.
"Whether you look at me or hear my roar, you will suffer a strong mental shock."
Only then did everyone turn back around, still shaken.
Looking at this upright satyr over two meters tall, radiating an uncomfortable aura, Harry endured the stinging pain in his brain and asked.
"How do you feel? Do you know how to become stronger?"
"Hmm..."
The satyr took a deep breath, seemingly savoring the lingering panic in the air.
"Fear, emotions—these are my nutrients. As long as I make creatures feel fear, I can become stronger."
"And what is your current power level?"
"If we go by our standards, and a Zombie is Rank Five..."
The satyr felt the cold power within its body.
"This body is probably only at the level of Rank Three."
"Rank Three?"
Harry frowned.
"The previous owner of this core was a Rank Four anomaly. It seems cross-world fusion causes energy loss, or perhaps the host's adaptability still needs time to adjust."
"But that's fine."
A hint of fanaticism flashed in Harry's eyes.
"Since it can get stronger just by consuming emotions, then this is practically a weapon tailor-made for war."
He waved his hand.
"Arrange it immediately."
"Send it to the Fantasy World. There are plenty of werewolves and vampires there..."
Harry looked at the satyr as if he were looking at a perfect work of art.
"Go on, go play a game with those foreign races. Make them tremble in fear and raise your strength as quickly as possible."
"Yes, Director."
The satyr bowed slightly, and its sheep-like face revealed an extremely human-like, yet hair-raising smile.
Swish!
An Enderman appeared out of thin air, grabbed the satyr's shoulder, and vanished instantly... "Reporting to the Chief, Experimental Subject One, the satyr, has arrived. Requesting instructions."
Randy looked at the dense red advance lines on the holographic map as the communication from the research institute reached his ears.
"I understand."
He spoke without turning his head.
"Since it grows by absorbing fear, then throw it where the enemy is most concentrated, but also where it's easiest to create panic. Those werewolves and vampires in the Fantasy World will serve as its whetstones."
Swish.
As soon as he finished speaking, purple particles condensed in front of him.
An Enderman appeared out of thin air, holding an upright satyr over two meters tall that radiated an eerie aura.
Randy sized up this man-made anomaly.
Although those scarlet vertical pupils were filled with tyranny, they maintained absolute obedience when looking at him.
"Very good."
Randy nodded slightly, his tone flat.
"Go. Find those werewolves and vampires, and perfect your power to your heart's content. Let me see just how high this so-called fear can push you."
"Yes, chief."
The satyr bowed slightly, its voice raspy and deep.
Watching the figure being taken away by the Enderman, Randy rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Steve is pushing progress a bit fast over there. He'll definitely need to create countless anomalies later. Won't the anomaly cultivation plan over here run out of food?"
"It seems the advancement speed here needs to be controlled slightly. We can't kill off the werewolves and vampires all at once. We have to treat them like leeks—keep them around to farm experience for these experimental anomalies."
Having made up his mind, Randy quickly adjusted the operational orders for several main legions.
On the outskirts of a certain werewolf stronghold.
This was a desolate forest of withered trees, where yellowed weeds trembled in the night wind.
Swish!
Purple light flashed, and the Enderman placed the satyr behind a hidden mound.
"Man, I'm counting on you."
The Enderman patted the satyr on the shoulder.
"I'll be waiting for you at the rendezvous point ten kilometers away. Contact me when it's time to bail."
"Mm."
The satyr nodded and watched the Enderman disappear.
Then, it slowly turned around. Its scarlet eyes looked toward the silhouette of the city not far away, and its mouth curled into an arc, revealing a mouthful of sharp fangs.
"Let's create a little panic..." On a path through the withered forest.
Two Rank Two werewolves responsible for the outer patrol were walking with heavy, bored steps.
"Boss, how long do we have to keep patrolling?"
The skinny werewolf following behind complained.
"There isn't even a mouse in this godforsaken place. Why do they still make us wander around here every day?"
"Who knows."
The scar-faced werewolf walking in front irritably scratched at the fleas on his head.
"There isn't even anything to eat in the city right now, and the higher-ups won't let us go out to hunt. If this continues, I'm going to be so hungry I'll have to gnaw on tree bark. Let's just hurry up, do a few laps, and go back to report."
"Fine..."
Rustle, rustle, rustle... Just then, a faint rustling sound suddenly came from the nearby bushes.
Ding-Ding.
Accompanying the movement was a crisp, melodious bell sound that seemed exceptionally eerie in the silent night.
"Who's there?!"
The scar-faced werewolf shuddered, instantly pulling a bone knife from his waist and shouting sharply.
The skinny werewolf jumped in fright and immediately shrunk behind his boss, his voice trembling.
"Boss... someone's there?"
The two wolves looked at each other, both seeing the tension in each other's eyes. In these times, any slight disturbance could mean death.
They lowered their bodies and cautiously approached the bushes where the sound had come from.
Every step was taken with extreme caution, and even breathing was intentionally slowed.
Arriving before the tall grass, the scar-faced werewolf abruptly reached out to push aside the weeds.
It was completely empty.
Only a few withered leaves were swept up by the wind and blown into the distance.
"Phew..."
The scar-faced werewolf breathed a long sigh of relief and put away his Bone Knife.
"It's fine, no one's here. It was probably just the wind."
The skinny werewolf also relaxed, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Scared me to death. No movement is much better than movement. With our meager strength, if we really ran into those monsters, we wouldn't even be able to escape."
Just as the two turned to leave.
"Baa, baa, baa~~~"
A shrill, mournful cry abruptly echoed from the darkness behind them.
Both werewolves' bodies froze at the same time.
This sound... a sheep?!
As werewolves, this sound was practically etched into their DNA.
It was the sound of food.
It was delicious meat and warm blood.
The two hurriedly looked back.
There was nothing in the darkness, but that enticing bleating seemed to possess a magical quality, seducing their most primal desires.
"Something's not right..."
The skinny werewolf suddenly shivered; his reason told him something was wrong.
"How could there be sheep here? Every animal that can run within a hundred-mile radius has been eaten by us. Where would a sheep come from?"
Fear began to spread in his heart, gradually suppressing his appetite.
But the scar-faced werewolf in front was not so lucky.
Hunger and instinct had completely taken over his brain.
"Sheep... there's a sheep..."
Saliva dripped from the scar-faced werewolf's mouth, and a greedy green light flickered in his eyes.
He hunched over like a hunting beast, creeping step by step toward the direction of the sound.
"Boss, don't go."
The skinny werewolf was about to reach out and pull him back, but the words died in his throat.
Looking at his boss's back as he risked everything for food, the fear in his heart kept him from making another sound.
He watched as the scar-faced werewolf broke into a trot and suddenly leaped into a dense thicket of bushes.
"Heh heh, got you."
Immediately afterward, an excited low growl came from the bushes.
Then... dead silence.
No sound of struggling, no screams, not even the sound of chewing.
It was like a stone thrown into a bottomless well; all movement ceased instantly.
The skinny werewolf stood frozen, cold sweat instantly drenching his back.
"B... Boss?"
He called out with a trembling voice.
Squelch, squelch.
A hair-raising tearing sound, accompanied by the sound of swallowing, finally drifted slowly out of the bushes.
The skinny werewolf swallowed hard.
"Did he really catch a sheep?"
Hunger caused the fear in his heart to recede slightly.
"Is the boss hogging it all for himself? No way, I want a share too."
With this thought, he summoned his courage and walked toward the bushes step by step.
The tearing sound grew louder, and the scent of blood became thicker.
Arriving before the bushes, the skinny werewolf took a deep breath and abruptly pushed aside the weeds.
"Boss, save me ah—"
Before he could finish, it was as if someone had seized his throat, and the words were forced back down.
By the faint moonlight, he saw a horrific scene that he would never forget for the rest of his life.
The first thing to catch his eye was a pair of massive, curved, ink-black horns.
It... it really is a sheep...
Just as this thought flashed through the skinny werewolf's mind, his gaze shifted further down.
He saw an upright, humanoid goat with its back to him, cradling a twitching body in its arms—it was his boss.
At that moment, the satyr was buried in the scar-faced werewolf's neck, biting and tearing in huge gulps.
Splurt! Splurt!
Blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the satyr's grayish-white fur red and splattering all over the ground.
Crunch, crunch...
That was the sound of bones being crushed and chewed.
The skinny werewolf was completely terrified, his legs frozen in place.
Right then.
The feeding satyr's movements suddenly stopped.
Its neck slowly turned at an extremely eerie angle, a full one hundred and eighty degrees.
Its crimson vertical pupils emitted a sinister glow in the darkness, staring fixedly at the skinny werewolf.
Hanging from its mouth was his boss's shredded trachea, and blood dripped down from its sharp fangs.
On that face that should have been gentle, there was now a cruel, mocking, demonic smile.
"Baa..."
It let out a soft cry.
But this sound was no longer the mournful cry of prey; it was the whisper of the Grim Reaper.
Boom!
The skinny werewolf's psychological defenses instantly collapsed.
"Aaaah!!"
"The sheep is eating the wolf! The sheep is eating the wolf!!"
"Help!"
He let out the most shrill scream of his life and turned to flee, scrambling away on all fours.
Dignity, hunger—none of it mattered at this moment.
He only wanted to escape this Nether.
Watching the werewolf's terrified retreating figure, the satyr did not give chase.
Thud.
It casually tossed the drained werewolf corpse onto the ground like trash.
"Run... run to your heart's content."
The satyr stuck out its tongue and licked the blood from the corner of its mouth, a light of pleasure flickering in its eyes.
"Go tell your kind. Go spread this fear..."
On this night, the ancient laws of nature were completely overturned.
The hunter had become the prey.
The sheep had begun to eat the wolf.
The outskirts of the city.
"Huff... huff..."
The surviving skinny werewolf was running for his life.
His lungs burned like fire, but even more terrifying was his vision.
"What's happening... why is the sky so dark?"
As he ran, he desperately rubbed his eyes.
The surrounding scenery became distorted in his eyes, as if the entire world were melting.
There was clearly light, but to him, it felt like looking through a thick layer of glass, making him feel suffocated.
"Ding-ding."
"Ding-ding."
The crisp sound of a bell echoed continuously in his ears.
With every ring, his vision darkened further, and his head throbbed with a needle-like pain.
"No, I can't fall yet. I have to get back to the city! I have to bring the news back to the city!"
The skinny werewolf bit the tip of his tongue hard. Using the momentary clarity brought by the sharp pain and relying on muscle memory of the terrain, he stumbled forward.
He didn't know how long he had been running or how many times he had tripped.
Finally, his foot was caught by a protruding tree root, and he slammed heavily onto the ground, unable to get back up.
"Who's there?!"
On the city wall, several werewolves on patrol noticed the movement and immediately rushed down with torches.
When they saw their fellow werewolf lying on the ground, they were all startled.
This fellow was covered in mud, his eyes were rolled back, and he was constantly muttering something.
"Hey! What's wrong with you? Wake up."
Several werewolves propped him up and shook him vigorously.
The skinny werewolf suddenly grabbed his companion's arm as if catching a life-saving straw, shouting hoarsely.
"Sheep... the sheep are eating wolves! Run, the sheep are eating wolves!"
"What?"
Several patrolmen looked at each other, their faces showing a hint of absurdity.
"Are you crazy? Sheep eating wolves? That joke isn't funny at all."
"Really, I'm not crazy."
The skinny werewolf burst into tears in his desperation.
"The boss... the boss is right over there, eaten alive by that upright goat. There's blood everywhere, go and see for yourselves!"
Seeing his collapsed state, the werewolves stopped laughing. Although this guy was usually a coward, he wouldn't go this crazy.
"Let's go, take him with us, and see."
The lead werewolf said in a deep voice.
Several werewolves supported the skinny werewolf and quickly turned back in the direction he pointed.
Before long, they arrived at the Withered Woods.
Hiss.
As they approached, a strong smell of blood hit their noses.
By the light of the torches, they saw the tragic scene on the ground.
The blood all over the ground had dried and blackened. A werewolf's corpse lay twisted by the bushes, its neck and chest gnawed into a bloody mess, with internal organs spilled everywhere.
"These teeth marks..."
The lead werewolf crouched down to examine the wound, his pupils shrinking suddenly.
"It doesn't look like a beast's bite; it's more like..."
Ding-ling.
Just then, the sound of a bell rang out behind them.
"Who's there?!"
Several werewolves whipped their heads around.
However, in the next second, all their expressions changed.
"I... I can't see?!"
"What's going on? Where are the torches? Why is it so dark?"
"My head is so dizzy... this bell sound is poisonous."
A strong sense of vertigo hit them instantly, leaving only large, distorted patches of light in their vision.
Panic erupted in an instant. Several werewolves couldn't even hold their weapons and began to swing them wildly.
"Run!"
Although the lead werewolf couldn't see, his intuition made him make the most correct judgment.
Everyone turned and ran in a panic.
Thud!
Suddenly, the sound of someone being tackled came, followed by the sound of gnawing.
"Aaaah, help!!"
That was the scream of one of their companions, but it quickly turned into a gurgling swallowing sound.
It was at this moment that the other werewolves' vision recovered slightly.
They looked back in horror.
On top of that unlucky companion, an upright satyr with grayish-white fur was crouched there, frantically devouring his abdomen.
It raised its head, its crimson eyes glancing at everyone. With scraps of meat hanging from its mouth, it revealed a satisfied smile.
"Run!"
Now, no one dared to stay. This group of werewolves rushed back to the city like madmen... An hour later, at the City lord's Manor.
News about the goatman eating wolves spread through the city like a plague.
"Have you heard? There's a strange sheep that specifically eats werewolves."
"I heard it too. They say the deaths are extremely tragic, with even the bones being chewed to pieces."
"It's terrifying. We used to be the ones eating sheep, so why is it reversed now?"
Various rumors and gossip made the city, already anxious due to the tense war situation, even more oppressive.
Inside the City lord's Hall.
Dante, the werewolf City lord, sat in a high position, listening to his subordinate's report with a furrowed brow.
"My lord, there are rumors outside about a goatman feeding on werewolves..."
"Absurd!"
Dante snapped his eyes open, and the pressure of a Tier 5 Powerhouse instantly erupted.
"Sheep eating wolves? Who would believe such nonsense that defies the laws of nature?"
"This is demonic talk meant to mislead people. It must be the enemy's psychological warfare."
Dante snorted coldly, a hint of killing intent flashing in his eyes.
"Arrest the deserters spreading these rumors and drag them out to be beheaded. Since they dare to disturb the military's morale during wartime, use their heads to silence the people in the city."
"Yes, My lord."
The subordinate took the order and left.
Soon, the werewolves who had escaped earlier were tied up and loaded onto a prison cart.
"My lord, it's true! We saw it with our own eyes!"
"It really was a sheep eating wolves."
"We're being wronged!!"
They cried out at the top of their lungs, but the escorting werewolf Soldiers ignored them completely.
"Hmph, a bunch of useless trash."
The squad leader of the escort team looked at them coldly.
"Sorry, but even if it's true, for the stability of the city, you must die."
The prison cart slowly drove through a secluded alley, heading toward the execution ground.
Just as it turned a corner.
Ding-ling.
The crisp sound of a bell rang out again, sounding as if it were right next to their ears.
"It's him!! He's here!!"
The prisoners on the cart instantly reacted as if they had been electrocuted, screaming in terror.
"He's entered the city! That sheep has entered the city!"
"Shut up!"
The squad leader was about to scold them when his vision suddenly blurred.
"What's going on?"
"I can't see clearly. What is this?"
The surrounding werewolf Soldiers immediately became alert and drew their weapons.
Their vision became blurred and distorted, and the familiar alley became as eerie as a labyrinth.
In this brief moment of chaos.
"Aaah!!"
A short scream came from the roof of a roadside shop.
As the sound of the bell gradually faded, everyone's vision slowly returned to normal.
"That... that is..."
A werewolf Soldier pointed at the roof of the roadside shop, his voice trembling.
A werewolf's corpse lay there.
It was a Hidden Sentry who had been responsible for guarding the area nearby.
At this moment, his chest cavity had been completely hollowed out, and blood dripped from the eaves, gathering into a pool of blood on the ground.
"It's true..."
Several experienced veterans leaned over to look and their faces instantly turned pale.
"This wound... it was gnawed out while he was alive. He really was eaten by that satyr."
Gulp.
The squad leader swallowed hard, looking at the corpse that hadn't even gone cold yet, then at the prisoners who were slumped in terror in the cart.
Killing them now seemed pointless.
The facts were before them; that monster had truly entered the city.
"Take this corpse with us."
The squad leader made a prompt decision.
"Everyone, follow me back to the City lord's Manor! This matter is too big; we must let My lord decide personally."
The City lord's Hall.
"My lord, My lord!"
The squad leader rushed in with a panicked expression.
"Why are you back again?"
Dante frowned in displeasure.
"Have those useless rumor-mongers been dealt with?"
The squad leader didn't dare look the City lord in the eye, lowering his head and saying in a trembling voice.
"My lord, on the way to the execution, one of our brothers died in the city. His death was extremely tragic."
"We brought the body back; it's outside. Please inspect it, My lord."
Hearing this, Dante's frown deepened.
He stood up and strode out of the hall.
Outside, a group of werewolf Soldiers was restraining the prisoners who had escaped death, and on the ground lay the body that had just been discovered.
"My lord..."
The squad leader pointed at the prisoners.
"They are the ones who spread the news."