Chapter 111
The overwhelming presence of an S-rank beast pressure filled the area, silencing the wilderness for miles. Every beast in range cowered, pressing itself against the ground.
Even the creature in the cage seemed disturbed. It paced nervously, unable to stay still.
Under the vast moonlight, its body was illuminated—a form unlike any other. Two meters long, it resembled a lizard, with fangs as sharp as blades and muscular limbs supporting its bulky frame. Its ferocity, characteristic of apex predators, was evident in every inch of its being.
Such a majestic beast would normally inspire awe and admiration in enthusiasts of the wild.
However, its scales were covered with clusters of dark red, moss-like sores. Two gaping holes marred the area above its spine, where scarred and uneven tissue had formed. Even its tail was severed halfway.
These disfigurements ruined its beauty, leaving only a sense of revulsion and pity.
It let out a low, guttural growl in response to the roar of the nearby tyrannosaurus, a sound laced with fear but also a deep, unyielding resentment.
At a glance, this creature bore a surprising resemblance—up to 60%—to the beast in the deep pit, No. 1.
Dr. An Qi gazed at it with pity, as if looking at a stubborn child. “No. 1 could have ended you completely, but all it did was tear off your wings and bite off your tail. Isn’t that mercy enough? Yet you hold onto this grudge even now?”
The monster became more agitated at these words. “Stop talking!”
The elderly man turned to it, his expression kind yet stern. “No. 2, who do you think you’re resenting?”
“It was you who lacked the strength to endure. It was you who couldn’t survive the backlash of the gene experiment.”
Dr. An Qi’s voice was sorrowful, almost reproachful. Then, he turned colder. “The base had such high hopes for you. You were provided with better resources, greater opportunities for evolution than No. 1. A dozen researchers focused their efforts on you. Nutritional supplements, advanced training facilities, top-quality food—weren’t they all for you?”
“No. 1 had nothing. Before it hatched, it wasn’t even injected with nutrient serums. It was discarded as a stillborn and thrown into the incinerator.”
The words, each laden with regret, were like soft, penetrating blades stabbing deep into No. 2’s wildly convulsing heart.
No. 2 roared, a sound suffused with unspoken jealousy and hatred. “But No. 1 betrayed you! Your most beloved creation, it turned against you without hesitation! I didn’t!”
Dr. An Qi shook his head. “Compared to No. 1, that’s about the only thing you’re good for.”
For a brief moment, No. 2’s face contorted violently, like the writhing visage of a demon from the depths of hell.
Dr. An Qi turned away and gave his command to the armed guards standing by.
“…Capture it alive. Be as careful as possible. Don’t harm the child. It may be rebellious, but it remains our base’s strongest mutant.”
No. 2’s gaze shot toward Dr. An Qi.
The old man no longer looked at it. His eyes were transfixed on the massive black beast surrounded by the glowing purple matrix, his expression brimming with undisguised adoration—utterly entranced.
First Base had spared no expense this time.
Hundreds of helicopters filled the sky, their crisscrossing purple matrix forming a dense web of firepower that sealed City G airtight.
Gray-white crystalline dust rained down, landing on several mutants attempting to flee.
The lower-ranked ones let out bloodcurdling screams as their flesh melted like wax, dissolving into nothingness amidst excruciating pain.
The higher-ranked ones managed only a few staggering steps before collapsing, rolling their eyes back, frothing at the mouth, and convulsing in death. Their agony was brief—less than a minute.
The death storm swept through the silent city with ferocious speed. Those who hadn’t yet evacuated bore witness to the grim spectacle, their pupils trembling in terror as if watching the plague incarnate.
Some desperate mutants tried to seek refuge in residential buildings, but the barrage of artillery followed them relentlessly, obliterating their hiding places with deafening explosions.
This was merely the periphery. At the center, where the crystalline dust was heaviest, loomed the tyrannosaurus’s lair.
The beast shrank its body just in time, but even so, some of the dust landed on it, hissing as it corroded its flesh, sending waves of searing pain through its entire form.
It barely had time to recover when dozens of rockets arced into the sky, their orange-red flames lighting up half the heavens as they hurtled mercilessly toward its position.
Explosions followed one after another, their thunderous roars deafening. People covered their ears, unable to bear the sound, their eyes fixed on the terrifying scene unfolding before them.
Thick smoke billowed, blotting out the sun and concealing the monster struck by the artillery.
“Did it die? Did it finally die?”
That singular, desperate question echoed in their minds.
No creature on Earth, they thought, could possibly survive such a relentless assault.
Armed forces cautiously approached the epicenter of the bombardment. Then, out of the dense smoke, a bloodstained maw suddenly lunged forward, clamping down on a soldier with terrifying force, blood spraying in all directions.
A scream tore through the sky.
“It’s not dead! Keep firing! Don’t stop!”
The surrounding troops opened fire in panic, their guns blazing and mortars thundering incessantly.
The tyrannosaurus expanded its body once more, unstoppable as it moved through the storm of bullets and shells. Its ears flicked, catching only the anguished cries erupting from all directions.
The sight before them was far beyond anything they had expected.
It was a humiliating slap in the face for the elite guard unit that had sworn they would bring down No. 1.
The squad captain grabbed the data technician by the collar, his eyes bulging with rage. “We deployed everything! Why isn’t it weakened?!”
The technician stammered, pointing at the monitor. “It is! The energy fluctuations show a rapid decline—it’s already in a weakened state!”
The captain pointed a trembling finger at the rampaging beast. “Weakened?! That’s what you call weakened?!”
The technician cowered. “I-I don’t know. The data says so… Maybe it’s just… not weakened enough?”
“Bullshit! The dosage was calculated perfectly! Approved personally by the top brass! There’s no way it’s wrong. You must’ve missed something in the readings.”
The technician was about to protest when he suddenly froze, his eyes widening in horror as he looked up.
A massive shadow loomed overhead, its terrifying silhouette unmistakable. It was the tyrannosaurus, and it was still roaring.
The captain’s body stiffened.
How? How could it have moved so fast?
No. 1’s weakened state had been misjudged. The estimation data must have been wildly off. Who would be held accountable?
Wait—the doctor. Dr. An Qi! The brilliant mind hailed as the infallible scientist of genetic research. Could he have overlooked something this monumental?
The captain looked up.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely as his gaze met Dr. An Qi’s. The old man had already turned his eyes toward the towering black beast behind him.
Calm, composed—Dr. An Qi’s face bore the same serene expression as always. Yet now, it carried a faint smile of satisfaction.
The captain couldn’t see that smile. But he could see the doctor’s unruffled demeanor, and in that moment, he understood.
It felt as though he were plunging into an icy abyss.
The beast’s claw swept down like a hurricane, crushing the captain into a pulp. His final, desperate question was swallowed by the chaos.
—You knew, didn’t you? You let No. 1 regain strength. Why? Why?!
The tyrannosaurus advanced toward Dr. An Qi.
It knew better than anyone else that this unassuming old man was the root of all evil. This siege wasn’t just a hunt—it was its chance to sever every tie, once and for all.
And so, it held nothing back. Anything in its path was reduced to shreds by its claws and fangs.
Limbs and blood rained down, painting the earth red. Against this unstoppable force, the guard unit dissolved into madness, scattering in all directions.
At that moment, a barrage of over a dozen rockets shot through the air, homing in precisely on the tyrannosaurus’s location. The timing was so synchronized it seemed as if they’d anticipated its exact movement.
BOOM!
A tidal wave of gray-white crystalline dust erupted with the explosion. The same dust, whose dosage had eluded the captain’s calculations earlier, was concentrated entirely in those shells.
The blast forced the tyrannosaurus back, its ears ringing as the corrosive crystalline dust weighed down its body, gnawing at its strength.
Just as it tried to turn, a sudden triumphant howl pierced the air.
No. 2 burst from its cage, not to flee but to bare its fangs and launch itself at the disoriented tyrannosaurus.
Dr. An Qi stood by the cage, calmly brushing off the windblown wrinkles in his clothes. He seemed entirely unsurprised by the scene.
He chuckled, “Still as impulsive as ever.”
Elsewhere, Wen Xin had just finished listening to Ding Pingle’s explanation.
After confirming there were no omissions or lies, he raised his gun and decisively ended the man’s life.
“If what Ding Pingle said is true, we need to hurry and get back to Xiao Hei.”
Ah Lü, safely wrapped in Wen Xin’s clothing to shield it from the crystalline dust, poked its head out. Its tongue flicked as it muttered, “Something doesn’t add up.”
Wen Xin dodged the falling artillery while running at full speed, sparing a moment to ask, “What doesn’t?”
Ah Lü hesitated. “Based on what that human said, the plan was to weaken Xiao Hei with drugs and then sic No. 2 on it. That approach works, but it’s not foolproof.”
Wen Xin furrowed his brow, starting to grasp Ah Lü’s point. “Dr. An Qi is a cautious man?”
Mentioning the name made the little green snake grit its teeth, its eyes blazing with animosity.
“He’s not easy to deal with—not at all. There isn’t a single mutant in the base that doesn’t fear him. I’ve never once managed to get close enough to kill him.”
Wen Xin stroked the snake’s head while his face grew grim at the distant sounds of battle.
Xiao Hei had deliberately sent them far away to keep them safe, but Wen Xin had yet to catch up despite rushing non-stop. From the sounds of the fight, though, they had to be nearby.
Why, then, was Dr. An Qi allowing Xiao Hei to close in on him rather than fleeing?
A chilling unease settled over Wen Xin’s heart as he picked up his pace, sprinting toward Xiao Hei’s position.
Meanwhile, the tyrannosaurus, struggling under the effects of the crystalline dust, finally managed to sink its teeth into No. 2’s throat after a brutal fight.
Blood gushed out, carrying a strangely sweet yet unsettling aroma.
The sweetness was no mystery—an S-rank mutant’s flesh was a delicacy for any of its kind. But where was the unsettling quality coming from?
The tyrannosaurus suddenly felt something round and rolling bump against its jaw.
It released its grip, letting No. 2’s body crash heavily to the ground. No. 2 wasn’t dead yet, staring up at the black beast with bloodshot eyes. The veins in its sclera swelled grotesquely, bulging and splitting open, transforming into gaping mouths lined with sharp, tiny teeth.
The thing that had struck the tyrannosaurus’s jaw? A single eyeball, spinning and grotesque, had grown out of No. 2’s throat.
The sheer absurdity of the sight froze the tyrannosaurus in place.
If Wen Xin or any survivor familiar with the western territories had been there, they would have recognized it immediately—a sign of a mutant undergoing secondary aberration.
But the tyrannosaurus, having spent the last year in slumber without leaving its territory, had no such knowledge.
Its mouth, full of No. 2’s blood, dripped the fluid into its body as it swallowed.
It was like a fuse had been lit inside a powder keg. The tyrannosaurus’s head roared with a deafening buzz, its vision spinning. It used all its strength to stay upright.
Rage. Bloodlust. Hatred.
An uncontrollable flood of negative emotions surged through it, battering its fragile sanity like a violent storm.
In its haze, the tyrannosaurus seemed to see No. 2’s spectral form reassemble before it, grinning mockingly.
—You will lose control.
