He Lao raised his Bone Staff, and white skeletal structures erupted from the ground, forming walls around the three of them before sealing overhead into a protective dome.
Through the staff, He Lao could observe their surroundings—but the thick fog and the dim red moon made visibility nearly impossible. Even their flashlights barely pierced the darkness.
“Prepare for combat.” The heavy footsteps drew closer, numbering in the dozens. He Lao’s heart sank, memories of the Hundred Abnormal Nightmare resurfacing.
As the creatures approached, the black fog thickened, swallowing the landscape whole. The world seemed to dissolve into the encroaching darkness.
The footsteps stopped just meters away, replaced by wet, guttural swallowing sounds. The creatures were circling, waiting.
“They’re here,” He Lao whispered.
Luo Chenguang and the Chongqing soldier froze, barely daring to breathe.
Outside, mere inches away, an army of Abnormal creatures lurked.
Something noticed the light and shuffled closer. He Lao snapped the beam off—but not before confirming the threat.
Experience was his greatest weapon. High-tier Abnormal creatures possessed terrifying traits—freezing, combustion, even reality-bending rules. But all of them, regardless of rank, retained instincts from their original forms.
And instincts meant weaknesses.
The good news? The creatures outside were common animals—dogs, cats, pigs, cattle.
The bad news? There were many of them.
A grotesque menagerie.
A monstrous pig and a twisted hound rammed the Bone Wall, but the structure—forged from the spine of a near-Tier 3 Abnormal—held firm.
Luo Chenguang, however, wasn’t as steady. His hands trembled. “What if they break through?”
He Lao didn’t answer. Stupid questions didn’t deserve responses.
The creatures stopped attacking… but they didn’t leave.
“Why?” Luo Chenguang dared to peek outside—and locked eyes with a pair of glowing crimson orbs.
He barely stifled a scream.
This was his second Abnormal encounter, and it was a hundred times worse. Regret gnawed at him. He never should’ve come.
Meanwhile, the Chongqing soldier pointed at the Bone Wall. “Look—the fog’s seeping in!”
Black tendrils of energy slithered through the gaps, carrying the creatures with them. Distorted faces pressed against the skeletal barrier—twisted bovine skulls, grotesque swine snouts, mangled goat visages—as if trying to phase through.
Then, a half-shattered black sheep’s head forced its way inside, jagged maw snapping at the soldier.
“Don’t shoot!” He Lao yanked the man aside and swung his staff.
The blow landed on the creature’s exposed brain—only to sink in like sponge, the force harmlessly absorbed.
He Lao switched tactics, shoving the monstrosity back—but more heads breached the wall.
Dozens of nightmarish faces sprouted from the Bone Dome, gnashing, drooling, watching.
A wet, tearing sound.
One of the cow heads was yanked backward—followed by the sound of chewing.
He Lao flicked his flashlight back on.
Outside, a five-meter-tall shadow loomed—the same creature they’d seen earlier.
The Abnormal Chicken.
And it was eating the other Abnormal creatures.
Had it spared them earlier… just to use them as bait?
“Fall back!” He Lao urged the Bone Wall to retreat as the Chicken devoured its prey—including its own offspring.
Luo Chenguang nearly collapsed. “It—it ate its children?”
The Chicken’s crimson gaze locked onto them.
One wrong move, and they’d be next.
“Wait!” He Lao froze.
The Chicken had stopped. It simply… watched.
Every time they retreated a step, its head tilted, tracking them.
“Does it… have intelligence?” He Lao frowned. Chickens weren’t smart. An Abnormal one developing a mind was terrifying.
The beast’s massive head loomed closer, jaws parting—
“RUN!” He Lao dropped the dome and thrust a new Bone Wall upward, wedging it into the Chicken’s mouth.
Luo Chenguang scrambled away. The soldier emptied his rifle into the creature’s eyes—
Bullets sank into flesh harmlessly.
“Teacher! Look!” Luo Chenguang pointed into the distance.
The Abnormal Building—half-submerged in Dongyu Mountain—was engulfed in flames.
The entire structure burned like a beacon.
That was Shen Ge’s “signal.”
And it was impossible to miss.
Trapped in the endless corridor, Shen Ge gave up on walking.
If the space wouldn’t let him out, he’d force his way through.
He sat down and summoned the System.
[Reward: “Frag Grenade x3”]
[Reward: “Six Nuclear Eggs” (a box of coconut milk)]
[Reward: “Molotov Cocktail x10”]
Shen Ge stared at the coconut milk.
“…What kind of knockoff brand is this?”
Still, he got what he needed—grenades, Molotovs, even a rocket launcher.
His suitcase couldn’t fit everything, so he ditched spare weapons and got to work.
Planting explosives at every pillar.
Lining the halls with firebombs.
A rocket ignited the chain reaction.
The red-lit floor became an inferno.
Fire spread to the turtle-hatching room. The ceiling collapsed.
Shen Ge timed it perfectly—activating his Invisible Domain to “collapse” upward, leaping to the next floor with his Abnormal Leather Shoes.
Then he repeated the process.
Arson wasn’t just a skill for Shen Ge—it was an art.
Wind direction. Heat control. Escape routes.
He even cooked instant noodles mid-firestorm.
The Abnormal-resistant suit didn’t just protect him—it made him a better pyromaniac.
Eighteen floors later, the entire building trembled.
The flames revealed something strange—patterns emerging in the burning walls and ceilings.