Factory District.
A black streak tore through the factory roof like a thunderbolt, vanishing into the churning fog.
A mont later, a crawling shadow erged from the gaping hole, spiraling upward in pursuit.
A dark red maw pulsed at the centipede’s head—then countless shadowy tendrils burst forth, lashing toward Han ng from all directions!
Han ng’s black trench coat was drenched in blood. Frowning at the colossal shadow closing in, he raised his gun and fired relentlessly. Deconstructive bullets rained down, shredding the oncoming tendrils.
He could feel his ntal energy draining rapidly, even as [Tribunal] expanded to its limits.
This wasn’t Han ng’s first ti fighting above his weight class. Compared to the red-paper monster, this shadow centipede was less daunting—not because it was weaker, but because the paper creature had been far more insidious.
Judgnt’s power continued tearing through the shadows as Han ng weaved through them, climbing higher.
Yet when he passed a certain altitude, the massive shadow halted its pursuit, retreating back into the ravaged steel factory.
"It refuses to leave the factory…"
Han ng hovered midair, deep in thought.
The prolonged battle had nearly leveled the entire facility. As District Three’s chief enforcer, Han ng couldn’t afford such losses, which was why he’d been trying to lure the mother creature away from the start.
But no matter which direction he took, once he crossed an invisible boundary, the entity would abandon the chase and return to the factory—as if it had fully claid the place as its nest.
This made Han ng’s task even harder. To end District Three’s crisis, he had to kill the mother.
Yet with hundreds of centipedes swarming the cramped factory, defeating a fifth-tier creature as a fourth-tier was nearly impossible. That was why their stalemate had dragged on for so long.
Just as Han ng pondered his next move—
The centipedes inside the factory suddenly froze.
Their heads snapped toward a single direction in the fog, their crimson maws convulsing—whether in terror or excitent, it was impossible to tell.
Han ng followed their gaze but saw only endless mist.
Before he could process this, the mother centipede at the factory’s core let out a shrill screech and plunged into the ground, vanishing into the depths.
The remaining shadows surged after it, converging toward a massive pit like a black tide caught in a whirlpool.
Han ng didn’t hesitate. He streaked after them.
Inside the factory, the centipedes that had once attacked him on sight now ignored him completely, single-mindedly tunneling underground.
Following their trail, Han ng stopped at a corner of the workshop. Before him yawned a crater several ters wide, its edges stained ashen gray, as if corroded by sothing.
"A Gray Realm convergence point?" Han ng’s frown deepened.
To his knowledge, even when convergences occurred in the Aurora Domain, they rarely lasted more than half an hour before sealing naturally. Yet this one had persisted for hours.
As the centipedes disappeared, Han ng’s vigilance only grew.
As long as this rift remained open, calamities could keep erging—if not centipedes, then sothing worse. And sothing about this convergence felt wrong.
After a brief hesitation, resolve flashed in his eyes. He leaped into the pit, vanishing into the gray abyss below.
---
"So… fragrant…"
The blazing warehouse resembled a scorching furnace. Countless curled shadows burned silently within, while a charred figure—limbs like burnt matchsticks—crawled atop one, ravenously tearing into its flesh.
[Audience Expectation 1]
[Audience Expectation 1]
[…]
With each shadow Chen Ling consud, the crimson eyes in the void grew brighter.
Dozens of centipedes perished in the flas, their flesh becoming his feast, their essence absorbed into the abyss—leaving only hollow husks curled obediently on the ground.
Ti blurred.
Chen Ling’s eyes had long burned away.
His charred hands groped blindly at the roasted chicken before him, failing to grasp even a sliver of at. Stumbling through the darkness, he collapsed after a single step—his left leg crumbling to ash.
The fall shattered his right arm, chest, and shoulder. He lay stiffly in the flas, a desiccated corpse awaiting death.
"Am I… dying…?"
Even [Blood Robe] couldn’t sustain him in this inferno indefinitely. Like the centipedes, his life force neared its end.
Oxygen dwindled rapidly. Suffocation clawed at his throat. He still tried to crawl toward the remaining chickens, but after endless struggling, could only twitch weakly.
Finally, he went still—as if accepting his fate.
The crimson eyes watched silently from the flas. The fire, having devoured the last air, sputtered out, leaving only faint embers flickering near the door.
[Detected loss of actor connection. Performance interrupted.]
[Audience Expectation -50]
[Current Expectation: 28]
Charred text flashed across the carcass-strewn floor. Then—
A sinister red light unfurled beneath Chen Ling’s body, weaving into a staircase that stretched into the void’s depths.
High above the warehouse, a vermilion star glimred.
Torrents of ntal energy erupted from Chen Ling’s corpse!
It was as if he’d shattered a barrier—his aura skyrocketed, finally settling on the second step of that distorted divine path before fading into nothingness…
Then—
In the darkness, the charcoal husk twitched.
Flesh regenerated over blackened bones. Light returned to scorched eyes. Sothing was hatching from this withered shell.
Fingers curled.
Eyelids peeled back, revealing hollow, eerie pupils.
He rose slowly, his crimson opera robe pristine.
A mont later, a chilling laugh echoed through the silent warehouse.
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