The words slipped from the young man's lips, immediately followed by the deafening crash of a door breaking open. He arrived like a storm, t
The words slipped from the young man's lips, immediately followed by the deafening crash of a door breaking open.
He arrived like a storm, the clash of metal ringing across the battlefield like a sudden, discordant melody—completely shattering the scene's rhythm.
The basement doors burst open, and a gust of wind surged out, sweeping past the unsuspecting scavengers.
All they felt was a breeze brushing their cheeks—then the blades swept across their necks like silk, slicing through and stealing their lives with chilling precision.
Even the scavengers armed with grenade launchers, rocket launchers, and other heavy weapons had their heads ruthlessly severed. The very tools that could have shifted the tide were kicked aside by the young man, clattering away into the unknown.
[Bloodborn], Level 3 Activated!
Lin Mo wielded the Black Unicorn without mercy. In his eyes, it was as though he walked through his own garden, plucking flowers at will. Each one he grasped crumbled in his hand—petals falling, a tragic, frozen beauty.
To the scavengers, all they could see was a blur, a specter moving too fast to follow. Their comrades died behind cover, blood spraying skyward like crimson rain.
The red mist painted the walls, floors, and debris like an ink wash, conjuring a hellish vision of carnage.
The scavengers were terrified—but powerless.
Since the advent of the Sandevistan, the upper limits of individual combat ability had fundamentally changed.
Every soldier, operative, and mercenary was forced to accept that there were now only two kinds of people on the battlefield: those without this cyberware—and those with it.
The divide between them was the abyss called time.
Chaos engulfed the battlefield. The scavengers had relied on numbers and firepower to hold off Maine's crew.
But now, a phantom of death had appeared behind them, unraveling even their strongest discipline.
Some scavengers turned their guns and tried to suppress the ghostly figure.
To their credit, it worked—somewhat. The web of gunfire was too dense for even a Sandevistan-boosted Lin Mo to rush through unscathed.
A few rounds found their mark. Thankfully, vital areas were shielded by his subdermal nano-chain polymer armor. The damage wasn't critical.
Inside his body, nanobot medics raced to close the wounds, and the bullet casings were slowly pushed out of the flesh.
Thanks to the boost from [Bloodborn], Lin Mo was clocking 40 kilometers per hour inside the slowed world of the Sandevistan.
Still, that wasn't enough to match a bullet's muzzle velocity. He ducked and weaved through cover to avoid the worst of the suppressing fire.
This distraction gave Maine's crew the opening they needed.
Rebecca and Dorio stepped out of the guard room, weapons reloaded. With blazing gunfire, they dropped the panicked scavengers one by one.
Maine charged forward, roaring with laughter, and fired a grenade in thanks for the earlier "gift" of bullets.
The explosion tore through the warehouse interior, sending debris and bodies flying, the stench of scorched flesh heavy in the air.
Behind a piece of cover, Lin Mo panted heavily. He dug through his waist pouch and found a vial of pale yellow fluid.
Swapping the empty canister from his pneumatic injector, he replaced it with the new stimulant and injected it into his arm.
Since Xu Wanxue had returned his private garage base, Lin Mo had uncovered a treasure trove of gear.
Before, he could only afford basic medical supplies—costly, fast-acting, but limited. High-end treatment injectors weren't sold on the open market. You needed the right connections.
Xu Wanxue might have noticed something odd by now, but she'd never guess that all the pocket money she'd given over the years didn't even scratch one percent of his current fortune.
She gave him startup capital. The simulator did the rest.
With every key tip the simulator provided, Lin Mo made massive profits without ever leaving his home. Even if he wanted to save money, it was impossible—his wealth overflowed.
But a kid with this much money? That would raise suspicion. With no powerful network to hide behind, he had to keep a low profile.
If a Mag-Lizard armored vehicle like in the games showed up in front of him, he'd buy it instantly.
But for now, he was still bound by restrictions, even under Xu Wanxue's generous protection.
That night's heart-to-heart had changed everything. She gave him the keys—and the company-supplied high-end supplies were just what he needed.
The warehouse had been stacked with cooled medkits marked with large red crosses. When he cracked one open, chilled fog escaped, revealing the latest medical injectors Xu Wanxue had prepared.
They included emergency bleed control, antitoxins, stimulants, anesthetics—you name it.
The vial he injected now was a combat enhancer, meant to restore stamina and invigorate the body.
As the drug spread through him, Lin Mo felt energy rush back into his veins.
His entire body roared to life like an engine filled with fuel. Even his arms, sore from cutting down so many foes, felt relief.
He took a deep breath, muscles tensed, the Black Unicorn gripped tight. He whispered the incantation in his mind.
Sandevistan, activated—again.
A gust swept past, and he vanished. Moments later, the scream of another scavenger echoed—but there was no sound of slicing flesh.
The sword moved faster than sound.
Inside the Sandevistan's slowed world, Lin Mo felt the full might of his specialization.
[Heart Like Still Water, Movement Like Thunder]—these weren't just poetic words. They were truth.
He used to think his skills were just stat boosts—like [Bloodborn] granting 10% speed per kill.
But this specialization changed his very perception.
Every time he entered time-slow, his mind calmed, his emotions stilled. With that clarity, his speed soared. His strikes became thunderclaps.
With such speed, it didn't matter what lay ahead. Once he swung, that thing was already severed.
Even Brutus's alloy claws couldn't withstand it.
He didn't know the exact damage ceiling. But with a 100% bonus to sword strikes, few things could take a hit from him and survive.
No matter how many implants or how advanced their subdermal armor, the scavengers fell like butter under the edge of the Black Unicorn.
The battle was drawing to a close.
As their numbers thinned, the scavengers' ranks began to collapse.
They hadn't been able to win even at full strength. Now, with corpses piling up like livestock at slaughter, the rest broke faster mentally than they did physically.
They fled.
But Lin Mo was faster. And Maine's crew held the exit.
The factory had become a literal slaughterhouse—a game of eagle versus chicks.
Only in this game, there was no mother hen.
These hyenas, once so dominant, celebrating after every hunt—were now choking on despair.
When the young man severed the final head, the mission ended.
He dropped the last enemy, soaked in blood—so much that it clung to him like syrup, as if he'd bathed in it.
And yet, the Black Unicorn remained bright. Its gleaming blade, mirror-smooth, was untouched by gore.
It was hard to believe this weapon had killed so many. No chips, no dents—only unrelenting sharpness.
The moon began to hide behind the clouds. The silver light on the ground faded into shadow.
The boy stood straight amidst the corpses. He slowly sheathed the sword, like completing a sacred ritual.
As the blade clicked into its sheath, the moon disappeared fully.
He stood bathed in blood. No enemies left. Moonlight gone.
And the boy vanished into the darkness—as if the moon itself refused to offer him a shred of mercy.
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