Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 137

Chapter 137: Get Out of That Kid!

At the critical moment, the bearded man shielded Zhao Ying. His mechanical arm deployed an energy shield to block the collapsing wall. Yet, the impact still sent him reeling, stars dancing in his vision as blood spurted from his mouth and nose.

"Captain Zhao, take Xiaoyuan and leave! I'll hold it off!"

"Are you kidding me?" Zhao Ying’s brows knitted tightly, her voice cold and firm. "That cancer fiend absorbed dragon energy from somewhere and has reached the Demonic General level. How are you going to hold it off?"

"I'm Master-rank, you’re Soldier-rank. You and Xiaoyuan staying alive is more important than me!" The bearded man shoved Zhao Ying toward the hall without looking back, roaring, "Go! Now!"

Zhao Ying gritted her teeth.

Leaving a teammate behind wasn’t her style, but she had to admit—he was right.

If she stayed, both she and Xiaoyuan would die.

Zhao Ying cast a deep, hard look at the figure facing down the demonic dragon.

Then, without hesitation, she bent down, hoisting the unconscious Xiaoyuan onto her shoulder and limped toward the emergency exit.

Bearded man… I, Zhao Ying, owe you a life…

I hope… I get the chance to repay you someday.

“You monster! Get out of that kid’s body!”

The bearded man gripped a massive cleaver, his eyes locked on the creature crawling out from the ruins, its monstrous bulk crushing the walls as if they were paper.

This underground stronghold was fortified with cutting-edge tech from the Demon-Slaying Bureau headquarters—walls thickened and reinforced to withstand direct RPG blasts.

But to the demonic dragon, the walls crumbled like toys, crushed effortlessly.

The bearded man’s roar of defiance met only disdain.

With a casual swipe of its claw, the dragon whipped up a violent gust, forcing his eyes shut against the stinging wind.

Despite his swift dodge, he was still sent flying by the massive claw, crashing hard into the rubble.

The demonic dragon curled its lips in mockery, withdrawing its gaze from his broken, bloody figure.

Then it opened its maw and let out an eerie, bone-chilling howl. Its entire body convulsed as more flesh and sinew surged, its form swelling larger. From every inch of its body, countless tentacles erupted, piercing through the ceiling above, ripping open a path to the surface.

"More… I need more energy!"

But even after breaking through to the open air, it felt disappointed. The spiritual energy here was pitifully thin—a barren wasteland compared to the rich energy it had tasted in that old rental apartment.

Still, if there was no energy—fresh meat would do.

By the time Zhao Ying emerged with Xiaoyuan, she had already ordered the market evacuated. The monstrous commotion had long driven vendors and customers into a panicked exodus.

But the dragon was undiscriminating—it began with the butcher shops.

Store after store was devoured, and its body swelled, soon stretching over a hundred meters.

"Not enough… Not fresh enough!"

Its crimson eyes swept around, claws tearing through the market stalls. It craved live prey—dead flesh was unsatisfying.

Suddenly, it caught the scent.

It spun abruptly and crashed through a storefront wall. With another swipe, the ceiling was gone, exposing those cowering beneath.

“Don’t… don’t look… Don’t look!”

Under the table, a trembling mother held her two children close, pressing their faces into her chest. Her voice shook, teeth chattering in fear as the monstrous head lowered, jaws yawning wide.

"Fresh… blood! Keh keh keh—"

A searing agony exploded in its neck.

It twisted, an eye bulging from its writhing flesh to locate the source—

A blood-soaked man clung to its neck, hacking with all his might.

"GET OUT! Get out of that kid’s body! AAAAHHH—!"

The bearded man coughed blood, his eyes blazing with killing intent and fury. His mechanical arm, gripping the cleaver, tore into the regenerating flesh with relentless, frenzied strikes.

Muscles ripped, his blade dulled and chipped. Sparks flashed from his mechanical arm’s joints, arcs of electricity searing his nerves with agony.

Yet, he felt nothing.

Why did the world need a spiritual revival…

Why did monsters have to return…

He had promised—promised to cure Chen Huai’an’s illness.

Such a bright young man.

If Chen Huai’an lived, he would save countless lives.

He would lead the Demon-Slaying Bureau to shatter the aristocratic clans’ monopoly—

And eradicate every last demonic scourge.

Suddenly, he felt it.

The bearded man’s body trembled from the primal chill—yet he grinned, his mouth bloody, teeth bared in a feral sneer.

His shredded vocal cords spat the curse, blood bubbling with every word.

Then—he reached behind and pulled out a high-explosive grenade.

With a click, the pin came free—

And he rammed it, deep—into the gash his blade had carved.

His mechanical arm shoved it further—deeper—half his body following it inside the wound.

The blast painted the market in a storm of gore.

Flesh rained down. The dragon howled in agony, its monstrous wail splitting the air.

The bearded man was flung away like a broken doll, hitting the ground with a lifeless thud.

That close-range detonation could obliterate anything Soldier-rank—

But a General-rank fiend?

The bearded man’s vision blurred as he stared up at the sky. His ears rang, everything distant, hollow.

Blood seeped from his lips as he tried—tried to stand.

But his hands—weren’t there.

With only his hips, he inched—dragged—toward the sound of squelching flesh.

Its neck, reduced to half a stump, was already regenerating.

The wound, carved by blade and bomb alike, sealed by fresh, pulsing flesh.

Too slow for the dragon’s taste.

But just fast enough—for the mother and her children to escape.

For him to turn around.

The dragon, roaring in a fury beyond hunger, lunged.

It was for vengeance.

Blood burst—bones shattered—

A lone screw, flicked from the carnage, clattered, rolling—into a distant pool of crimson.

The dragon lifted its claw, surveying the bite wounds on its palm—

Barely a second passed, and they vanished—healed as if never there.

Heh… Even in death, the ant tried to take a piece of me?

But ants—are still ants.

The carnage behind it forgotten—

The world beyond—waiting.

There was more out there.

At the entrance of Panjiayuan Market—

The armored blockade stood, soldiers bristling with weapons. Sirens flashed, casting warning lights over tank plating.

Above, from the open hatch of a helicopter, Zhao Ying lowered her phone, her face steeled as she stared down at the colossal beast prowling the market entrance.

Residents, from their windows and balconies, recorded—

The sudden emergence of a General-rank fiend—

A threat no longer in the shadows—

A terror the world would see.

The truth—could not be hidden now.

But that was the lesser nightmare.

No General-rank slayers were available.

The highest combat force on-site—Soldier-rank, Class-A.

“Do we have to… rely on the aristocratic clans’ Awakeners for backup?”

Zhao Ying’s fists clenched, her lips trembling.

She knew—exactly what the clans would demand.

The Breathing Technique.

The lifeblood of the Demon-Slaying Bureau.

A treasure bought with blood.

The key to slaying demons—

And the last chip—against aristocratic tyranny.

If she handed it over—

The Demon-Slaying Bureau would become—

No more than a dog, leashed—

By the very clans that once—

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