In the dimly lit noodle shop, the crossed beams of two flashlights provided just enough light to see. At the center of the room, Fang Mingyue stood half-undressed, her face flushed with rage, eyes burning like fire.
She flung her discarded clothes onto the table, then snatched up the fresh set Shen Ge had prepared for her, cursing under her breath as she dressed. Given her disciplined upbringing, her insults were more frustrated than vulgar.
“All dead?” The words hissed through her clenched teeth, her fury palpable.
Shen Ge slurped his instant noodles and nodded. “All dead. One got chewed up by an anomaly, one got blown up by me, and the last one… well, bled out.”
He had recounted the mercenaries’ atrocities—including the mutilated body of the Special Strategies Department soldier—and advised Fang Mingyue to wear the mercenaries’ gear and keep her face covered. Disguising herself would lower their guard if she encountered any survivors, giving her the first-strike advantage.
Thirteen had entered the zone, and only three were confirmed dead. With two agents still unaccounted for—both armed with anomaly-energy equipment—caution was necessary.
Shen Ge didn’t want someone like Fang Mingyue trusting these butchers, only to end up like that corpse.
Shen Ge drained the noodle broth, tossed the empty pack, and headed to the shop’s entrance. From beneath a wrecked car, he hauled out a crate of gear—spoils from the mercenaries, though ammunition was scarce. “Grab what you need.”
Fang Mingyue adjusted her gear. The outfit dwarfed her frame, but with a gas mask, she’d pass at a glance. “Tch. These animals had top-tier kit,” she muttered.
After delivering noodles to the survivors, Shen Ge and Fang Mingyue regrouped. Their “deep exchange” had covered two key points: her combat skills and her anomaly-energy gear.
Fang Mingyue owned two pieces:
Bone-Clad Staff: Crafted from anomaly remains, its tip could morph into a cage harder than steel.
Hide Bracer: Made from anomaly skin, it inflated with energy to absorb impacts and self-repair.
A former reconnaissance specialist, she’d bagged two Level 1 anomalies solo.
Shen Ge had spent days dissecting the zone’s structure. His theory? The Level 4 anomaly’s massive zone housed nested subspaces from lesser anomalies, fracturing time and space. To escape, they’d need to eliminate the anchors—like the Teddy anomaly he’d already destroyed.
Yet despite scouring the area, he’d found no trace of other anomalies.
Hence, his new plan hinged on Fang Mingyue and the survivors.
He’d omitted one detail, though: human nature’s darkest flaw.
Apocalypse. Uncertainty. A shelter. A group. Limited supplies.
Any dystopian novel spelled out the inevitable.
After distributing noodles, Fang Mingyue urged the survivors to stay put. Then, she and Shen Ge set off to hunt the next anomaly.
Shen Ge had initially focused on the torched district, assuming the Teddy’s death had cleared its subspace. But he’d overlooked a possibility—other anomalies could overlap here too.
Fang Mingyue’s tracking skills proved vital. Oddly, after hours of searching, they found neither anomalies nor residual energy.
Shen Ge’s gut warned this silence meant one thing: something had consumed them all.
A Level 2—or worse, a Level 3—was brewing.
Level 1s were manageable. His cleaver could carve through them like melons. But higher tiers? Riskier.
After circling back to their starting point, Fang Mingyue sighed. “Trapped again. Guess even anomaly zones obey Earth’s curvature.” Her joke carried the weight of despair.
“Don’t give up. At least we’ve confirmed a Level 2’s here. Kill it, and the zone collapses,” Shen Ge said.
Fang Mingyue blinked. His tone made slaying a Level 2 sound like ordering takeout.
“…Could be Level 3,” she muttered.
A scream ripped through the night.
Fang Mingyue bolted toward the source. “The survivors! Damn it—I told them not to leave!”
Shen Ge exhaled. Test human nature, and it always fails. Had they stayed hidden, they’d be safe.
Instead? They’d chosen the classic dystopian arc: fighting over scraps, drawing the lurking predator’s attention.
What puzzled him was where the anomaly had hidden. Even Fang Mingyue’s sharp eyes had missed it.
Rounding the corner, they froze.
Under the blood-hued moonlight, a tentacled horror—part squid, part nightmare—loomed over the street, its lower half still wedged in a sewer grate. Its arms coiled around dismembered limbs, slurping them into a gaping maw.
“Damn, buddy. Your dad a Cthulhu cultist?” Shen Ge quipped. Now he understood why searches came up empty—it lived underground.
[Host locked by Level 2 anomaly. Current stats insufficient for engagement. Recommend immediate retreat.]
As Shen Ge sized up the beast, Fang Mingyue acted. She hurled a flashbang at its face, then dove behind cover.
The blast lit the street like noon. The creature recoiled, tentacles shielding its eyes.
One arm retracted from the building, clutching survivors. A squeeze—
A middle-aged man, drenched in gore, trembled in another tentacle’s grip. Regret etched his face. Half a pack of noodles hadn’t sated his hunger. His greed had doomed them all.
Fang Mingyue fired a grapple gun, launching herself airborne. Her staff’s cage snapped toward the anomaly’s head as she swung past, hacking at a tentacle with a combat knife.
The blade barely pierced the rubbery flesh.
A second tentacle lashed out, coiling around her waist—
A cleaver flashed, severing the limb. Fang Mingyue crashed to the pavement, gasping. The blade embedded itself in the concrete beside her, quivering.
Shen Ge offered a hand. “Okay?”
“Y-yeah. That knife—” She’d never seen steel slice anomalies like butter.
“Ex-butcher. Gotta carry the tools of the trade.”
Butcher? His file said designer.
Before she could ask, Shen Ge snatched her grapple gun.
“Wait, that’s not how you—”
He fired it directly at the monster’s face.