The moon hung low over Sector 3's jagged horizon, casting its pale light across the muddy basin of the Baoshan Outland Swamps. Faint echoes of beast howls carried over the wind, blending with the gentle hum of plasma rifles being reloaded and the faint clink of gear being set aside.
Lan Yuheng stood atop a flat ridge of slick obsidian stone near the sector's extraction relay, his armor stained with dried blood and his visor still glinting from the last engagement. He took a long breath and exhaled slowly.
They had just completed their 201st mission of the day.
A record not only for LAN-YH-01, but for any independent unit operating in the Eastern Earth Quadrant.
Zhuang Niao slumped beside a collapsed reed wall, shirtless and soaked, letting the humid air dry the sweat clinging to his skin. Xing, back in his Celestial Hound form, paced nearby, ears twitching, nose raised.
The trio had been methodical — sweeping from the Baoshan marsh zones to the Pudong Ridge's lower cliffs, each run optimized by KORA's AI overlays. Every minute shaved off by tactics honed in the wilds of their upbringing. Every mission carved into LAN-YH-01's growing legend.
"Still… 1,200 more pending missions," Zhuang Niao muttered, half-smiling, eyes already drifting shut.
Lan Yuheng nodded, crouching to inject a stim-hydro pack into his thigh. "Plenty of time to finish them. But for now… we rest."
"Rest?" Zhuang Niao asked, raising a brow. "You? Resting? What happened to the demon that used to lecture me about wasted seconds?"
Lan Yuheng looked skyward, the clouds swirling. "Even demons breathe, Niao."
But the world had other plans.
It began with a single distant howl.
Faint. Disturbed. Drawn from somewhere in the thick of the eastern marsh banks, where the mangroves twisted like claws and the earth moved underfoot.
KORA's warning ping was nearly drowned by the second howl.
"Lupine-class signal detected. Subspecies: Midnight Alpha Variant."
Zhuang Niao cursed and grabbed his military-grade rifle, flicking off the safety. "You've got to be kidding me. We cleared this stretch six hours ago!"
Lan Yuheng stood instantly, drawing both plasma revolver and dagger, scanning the tree lines. "New pack. Must've moved in on the blood scent."
The hound form of Xing growled deeply, his blue mane bristling, fangs glistening with residual lightning sparks. He had already scented them. Dozens. Maybe more.
In less than a minute, the swamp lit up with a wave of red-eyed predators. Midnight Lupines — sleek, charcoal-black beasts with serrated hide, elongated fangs, and claws capable of rending exosuit plating.
But LAN-YH-01 didn't back down.
The first Lupine lunged.
Lan Yuheng met it with a clean spin, dagger flashing upward to slit the beast's throat, revolver unloading three consecutive shots into the flank of another.
Zhuang Niao bellowed and swung his siege hammer, the force of the impact sending a beast flying into a mangrove tree, cracking its spine against the trunk.
Xing moved like a blur of starlight and death. Every step a crackle of kinetic force, every bite surgically aimed at the neck or spine.
For thirty minutes, the swamp became a war zone.
Plasma light seared the night. Beast screams mingled with battle cries. Blood and fur littered the basin.
Lan Yuheng bled from the side of his neck but never faltered. He barked out commands, shifted tactics mid-engagement, and used swamp terrain to bottleneck incoming waves. When a Lupine Beta—the size of a light car—burst from beneath the reeds, he rolled under it, slid his dagger between its rib plates, and finished it with a revolver blast through the skull.
They didn't just survive.
They won.
The last Lupine fell with a crack of Zhuang Niao's hammer.
Bodies of beasts steamed in the moonlight. The swamp had gone eerily silent, save for the cooling hisses of overheated weapons and the soft grunts of recovery.
KORA spoke again.
"Battle confirmed. 42 hostile bio-signatures eliminated. Unregistered kill count logged. LAN-YH-01 ranking has entered the Upper-Tier Mercenary Boards."
Zhuang Niao tilted his head. "Upper tier? Already?"
Lan Yuheng gave a tired smirk. "Should've been yesterday."
Mercenary Uplink – Global Channel Echo-9
In another region, far from the swamps, a command center buzzed with static and glowing screens.
Dozens of mercenary guild representatives watched the battle footage on delay — facial recognition overlays confirming the presence of Lan Yuheng, Zhuang Niao, and the celestial beast, Xing.
An older merc captain grunted. "LAN-YH-01… they were the ones who came to register a few day ago , isn't it?"
"Yes," another said. "Only now, he's cleaning out entire sectors in a day."
"Two hundred and one missions. In less than twenty hours."
Silence fell.
Then a voice, sharp and calm, spoke from the shadows behind them.
"It's time we introduced ourselves."
They turned to see a man step forward — clad in black armor, his insignia bearing the crest of Guild Rho-Victor.
"Shadow Hornet Guild won't be the only ones to take notice," he said. "But we'll be the first to act."
The board lit up as a full profile of LAN-YH-01 appeared:
Status: Ascending Tier
Efficiency Rating: 97.3%
Solo Extraction Record: Top 3%
A hit list was quietly opened.
Back in the swamps, dawn had begun to warm the sky. The group limped toward their mobile pod stationed near Camp Echo, one of the federation's temporary outposts deep within Baoshan.
Lan Yuheng leaned against the pod, eyes closed, feeling the blood pulse behind his eyes. KORA's drone was already flying overhead, scanning their gear and logging mission data.
Zhuang Niao collapsed onto the camp's drop crate, cracking open a ration bar. "You know... I think I actually want to sleep now."
"Too bad," Lan said, drinking from a stimulant capsule. "Sector 3's east range has 87 more flagged bounties. We'll knock them out before dusk."
"You're insane."
"Maybe. But we're winning."
Xing growled in approval, tail thudding softly as the celestial hound rested at their feet.
Elsewhere,
The rival guild's headquarters, located beneath an abandoned metro station in the former urban sprawl of old Shanghai, was anything but primitive. With full-spectrum jammers, repurposed AI-linked war tables, and a fortified command core, Shadow Hornet Guild had been dominating the mid-tier rankings for years.
Their leader, Fei Lian, sat at the war table, a sharp-jawed mercenary known for precision, politics, and poison.
"He's a disruptor," Fei Lian said, watching Lan Yuheng's profile loop again. "Doesn't play the federation's slow games. Doesn't buy into our alliances. He's dangerous."
Another mercenary leaned in. "Want us to move in?"
"No," Fei Lian smiled thinly. "Not yet. Let him rise. Let the boy think the stars are his. Then… we clip his wings."
They all turned as another screen displayed LAN-YH-01's projected influence trajectory — it was rising faster than any solo or duo-team in modern history.
Fei Lian stood, shadows swirling around his boots. "He's coming to our tier. Let's prepare a welcome party."
Fengxian Ravines, once a peaceful sprawl of woodlands and natural basins in the southeastern Shanghai outskirts, had become a broken, scorched battlefield since the dimensional fractures had torn through the crust. Creatures of nightmare roamed freely across blackened gorges, and mercenaries who dared set foot either came back as mangled veterans or not at all.
Lan Yuheng stood at the cliff's edge, wind tugging at his armor's reinforced plating. Zhuang Niao, dressed in siege-grade armor with reinforced boots, checked the kinetic loading on his hammer. Xing had returned to his Celestial Hound form—sleek obsidian hide pulsing with primal energy. All three surveyed the ravine basin below them. Missions scattered across this region and surrounding districts still numbered over a thousand.
"Estimated surge activity in this quadrant is thirty-two percent higher than normal," KORA announced in Lan's earpiece. "Threat density increasing."
Lan Yuheng's voice was calm. "All the better. We're behind schedule. Let's clean house."
Mission 202: Extermination of Razorback Swarm
The trio dropped into the ravine from three angles. Razorback Swarm beasts, thick-bodied insectoid nightmares with chitin spines glowing orange from their molten cores, erupted from nests hidden under stone.
Lan Yuheng's plasma sniper roared first. A clean headshot pierced the queen's primary eye, igniting a chain reaction that sent her brood into disarray. Xing launched in a blur of shadows, ripping through hatchlings with precision claw strikes.
Zhuang Niao charged through the second cluster, his siege hammer hammering into the thickest armored Razorbacks. Explosions of ichor and bone followed every swing, his shield absorbing acid splashes that would've melted ordinary gear.
"Pack retreating toward southern tunnel," KORA reported.
"Not on my watch," Lan snapped. With a leap, he descended into the collapsing tunnel and tossed a plasma charge. The explosion collapsed the pathway and buried the fleeing swarm.
Mission complete.
Mission 243: Territorial Sweep – Ember Lynx
Higher along the cliffs, the Ember Lynx Pride had turned the canyon terraces into territorial kill zones. Agile, fast-burning predators with fire-coated manes and serrated claws ambushed from ledges.
"Two on the left!" Zhuang Niao roared.
Lan somersaulted to the side, drawing his revolver. Three plasma bolts struck an approaching lynx mid-air, burning through fur and cartilage. Xing pounced on another from above, jaws locking around its flaming neck.
The lynx pack attempted coordinated attacks, but Xing's celestial agility paired with Lan's close-range sniping disrupted their momentum. Zhuang Niao kept their flanks sealed with his riot shield, creating choke points.
The pride leader, a massive alpha lynx with twin tails of searing flame, descended.
"Time for a real fight," Lan whispered. His sword hissed out.
The alpha's first pounce met Lan's parry. The blade shimmered, absorbing the heat. With a flick, Lan redirected the flame and struck the lynx's shoulder joint. Xing tackled its hind legs while Zhuang Niao shattered its ribs with a hammer uppercut.
Three seconds later, it lay dead.
Mid-Sector Missions: Gauntlets of Endurance
From Fengxian, the team moved toward Minhang Delta's synthetic lakes and the polluted zones of Songjiang Highlands. Missions became endurance-based—clean-up operations, resource harvesting, and exterminations back-to-back.
Lan's body ached from overexertion. But they didn't stop.
Mission 318: Crimson Fog Beasts in Songjiang
Toxic crimson fog clung to the ruins of a manufacturing plant. Beasts known as Fog Rotters slithered and swirled inside it, invisible to normal vision.
Lan activated his visor's spectral filters. "Targets identified."
The Fog Rotters emerged—skeletal feline creatures with translucent skin and vapor limbs. They phase-shifted between solid and mist.
Lan adjusted the plasma rifle to ion burst. One shot dispersed a creature's form mid-leap. Zhuang Niao used sound-frequency grenades to destabilize the fog layer. Xing howled, and celestial resonance waves lit the battlefield, exposing hidden foes.
After fifteen minutes of relentless combat, only silence remained.
Mission 372: Biocore Recovery in Jiading Burn Fields
The Biocore mission proved trickier. Harvesting from a fallen A-rank beast called a Verdant Devourer meant braving heat vents and unstable terrain.
Lan and Zhuang Niao wore heat-shielded exosuits while Xing moved through safe paths.
The Devourer's corpse was still semi-living—tendrils twitched with residual nervous impulses. Lan sliced it open using his plasma dagger, retrieving the glowing emerald biocore.
"Hostile activity detected. Lifeforms reanimating," KORA warned.
The corpse spasmed. Spores activated. Fungus-crawlers emerged like maggots.
"Time to go!" Lan barked.
They fled with the core, fighting off thirty crawlers. Xing's celestial roar ruptured the fungal nerves, collapsing the entire mound behind them.
Mission 401 to 500 were just Blitz Execution.
By now, the world was watching.
The LAN-YH-01 combat record had exceeded expectations. Over 500 missions completed in under thirty-six hours. Feeds from mercenary hubs streamed their battles on giant holo-boards in Shanghai, Chengdu, and Singaporean outposts.
"LAN-YH-01's unit is outperforming full guild branches," the Federation analysts murmured.
Rival guilds, especially Iron Summit and Crimson Gale, took notice.
In one particular chamber in Shenzhen, Guildmaster Zhou He of Crimson Gale watched the feeds. His mechanical eye glowed.
"Too fast, too efficient," he muttered. "Either he burns out soon... or we help him crash."
Fengxian Final Mission – Mission 543: Dread Hydra of the Gorge
A rogue C-class hydra variant had been breeding in the deep basin. Its three regenerating heads made it near unkillable by standard units.
"Time to make a statement," Lan said.
They prepared a synchronized assault. Zhuang Niao would draw attention and hold position. Xing would strike the sensory nodes on the necks. Lan would aim for the neural stem behind its center head.
The battle began with thunder. Zhuang Niao's hammer smashed the hydra's right head flat before it could strike. Xing raced along the spine, leaving deep claw trails.
The center head snapped toward Lan.
He pulled both daggers and leapt.
One dagger plunged into the eye. The other into the roof of the mouth.
As the head reeled, Lan spun and fired the plasma revolver point blank into its skull.
Boom.
The hydra's center brain ruptured. The other heads writhed before collapsing.
KORA: "Target terminated. All regenerative signals ceased."
As the trio sat against the cliff edge, catching their breath, a Federation dropship hovered above them. Supply drones dropped new ammo, medkits, and nourishment packs.
"This was only the halfway mark," Lan said, smiling faintly.
Zhuang Niao groaned. "Only?"
Xing growled with pride.
They had crossed 700 missions.
Only 700 more to go.
06:00 Hours, Northern Tangshan Highlands
The air was cold and laced with morning mist as Lan Yuheng knelt beside a steaming crater that moments ago had been the nest of a Class-B Stonehide Drakonid. Shards of obsidian-colored scales still sizzled on the frostbitten grass, twitching from residual plasma energy. Zhuang Niao stood just behind him, hammer steaming with residue gore, while Xing circled above in his celestial hound form, nose flaring, eyes scanning the ridgeline.
"Six more from this area logged," KORA's voice rang out. "Remaining count: 712."
Lan Yuheng exhaled slowly, his voice gravel-edged from overuse. "Move to Sector 9B. Eastern Muling Forest. Priority on Class-2 creature dens."
Without a word, they vanished into the canopy's fading shadows, boots pressing into dew-covered foliage as the real hunt resumed.
07:14 Hours, Eastern Muling Forest
Sector 9B was lush and deceptive—a jungle with lianas thick enough to strangle tanks and undergrowth dense enough to hide an army. Yet it wasn't plant life that made it dangerous. It was the Camoclaws—stealth-adapted feline beasts that phased between heat signatures and used their environment like a cloak.
"Four incoming from the west," Zhuang Niao muttered, eyes on his HUD.
Lan Yuheng clicked his tongue twice.
From the trees above, a blur of motion struck downward.
SNAP!
A Camoclaw pounced, claws extended like curved scimitars. Lan ducked, rolled, and fired a bolt from his plasma revolver mid-slide. The round pierced the creature's rib cage with a pulse of red energy. It collapsed, limbs twitching. Another dropped from above, but this one landed on Zhuang Niao—huge, heavier than the last.
Zhuang Niao didn't flinch.
His shield rose with mechanical hiss and slammed into the beast's underbelly, knocking it off-balance. With a twist of his wrist, he brought down the siege hammer and cracked its spine in a sickening crunch.
Xing swooped in like a silver comet, jaws clamping down on a third Camoclaw trying to escape through the treetops. The beast squealed, then fell silent.
Lan wiped blood off his cheek. "Next zone."
08:39 Hours, Shanhaiguan Reclaimed Zone
Ruins of ancient fortifications met the ultra-modern skeletons of military outposts—this region had history soaked in every stone and steel. The missions here were different: extermination and structural salvage from beast nests embedded in ruinous sites.
"Heat readings show biomass density above safety levels in tower ruins," KORA reported.
"I'll breach from below," Lan said. "Niao, go high. Xing, outer perimeter."
The breach went loud.
Lan tossed an EMP disruptor and charged through the cracking wall of a collapsed observation tower. Inside were Fleshburrowers—worm-like organisms with acidic mandibles, eating away at circuitry and steel support columns.
He drew both daggers.
With brutal precision, he carved through the swarm. Plasma-enhanced blades tore through thick hides as he weaved through the constricting nest. One latched onto his leg—he stabbed it through the eye socket. Another sprang for his throat—he shot it point-blank with his revolver.
Above, Zhuang Niao crashed through a skylight, landing with hammer drawn. His first swing crushed four. His second shattered the floor, sending shockwaves that dislodged parasite clusters from the ceiling.
Outside, Xing incinerated the escapees with arcing lightning beams from his mouth, fur glowing with celestial flame.
"Building neutralized," KORA declared.
"Tag the salvage for pickup," Lan ordered. "Move."
10:17 Hours, Shizuishan Quarry Expanse
Rocks glistened under harsh sun, old mining machines rusting amidst sand-covered cables. It was eerily silent.
Then the sand moved.
A sudden quake erupted—Gravemauls, enormous reptilian beasts with granite-like armor, burst from below.
Zhuang Niao launched a grappling hook and vaulted onto a ledge. "Two on the left!"
Lan whistled once.
Xing landed in front of him, intercepting the first Gravemaul head-on. The ground trembled as Xing tackled it, jaws clamping around its horned head. Sparks flew as the celestial hound's claws scraped against dense mineralized scales.
Lan rolled aside from the second Gravemaul's charge. His sniper activated. One shot. Straight through the eye.
It collapsed, twitching, skull caved in.
Zhuang Niao jumped down, bringing his hammer down like a meteor onto the final Gravemaul's exposed spinal ridge. The force cracked its back open. It howled, tail swinging—Lan ducked under it and buried both daggers into its underbelly, twisting until it stopped moving.
"Sector cleared," KORA confirmed. "Remaining missions: 510."
12:05 Hours, Tianchi Abyssal Ravines
High-altitude cliffs veiled in thin clouds stretched endlessly. Deep within the crevices were nests of Howler Sirens, winged avians with screech-based sonar attacks. No ground assault would work. This was Xing's domain.
Lan and Zhuang perched at the cliff's edge, sniping creatures as they flew out of range of Xing's strikes. Below, the celestial hound was weaving through air battles, dodging blasts of concentrated sound and unleashing his own bolts of radiant plasma.
Xing's claws sliced through the wing of a Siren, sending it tumbling to its death. Another tried to blindside him from above—he twisted mid-air and let his fangs tear through its throat.
Zhuang Niao loaded another anti-air shell into his rifle and picked off two more mid-swoop. "Not bad for flying banshees."
"Stop complimenting the enemy," Lan muttered. "They're not worth it."
15:42 Hours, Changde Rainplateau
Heavy rain made vision poor. Electrical interference distorted radar scans. Creatures here thrived in low visibility—Mistspike Crawlers, armored quadrupeds with cloaking exoskeletons.
Lan tossed two beacon grenades.
"Infra-red and thermal up," KORA said. "Targets highlighted."
The outlines appeared—a dozen Crawlers surrounding them.
Zhuang Niao was first to strike. His shield expanded outward with magnetic pulse, pushing the enemies back before he began rotating like a spinning battering ram. Crawlers bounced off his shield and flew into trees.
Lan darted forward, slicing joints and eyes—precision dismemberment. Each slash left a trail of blue ichor.
Xing pounced on a pair trying to escape, dragging one into the air before slamming it into a tree and blasting the second with a radiant howl that turned its head to vapor.
One tried to cloak and sneak behind Lan.
Too late.
His revolver fired without looking.
Right between the eyes.
17:11 Hours, Beihai Wetlands
Mission count: 179 remaining.
The wetlands were wide, murky, and filled with Sporefiends—mushroom-beast hybrids that exploded upon death.
"Keep distance," Lan said. "One burst, we're screwed."
The trio fought carefully. Plasma sniper bolts dropped them from afar, but one misstep caused a chain detonation. Lan was thrown back, armor cracked. Zhuang pulled him behind cover.
"Med injectors now," KORA barked.
Lan gritted his teeth, jabbed himself with a vial. "I'm good."
They moved again, this time more coordinated. Xing's controlled plasma breaths ignited spores safely before they could react. Zhuang cleared the path. Lan provided overwatch.
One Sporefiend escaped.
It didn't get far.
Xing was already behind it, eyes glowing, maw wide.
20:00 Hours, Nanchang Basin Remnants
The final 50 missions.
The sector was quiet. Too quiet.
Lan signaled halt. "Trap zone. This isn't a beast den. It's a guild intercept."
Sure enough, shapes moved from the ruins ahead—mercs in black armor, weapons drawn.
"LAN-YH-01," the leader sneered through comms. "You've been making too much noise."
Zhuang Niao stepped forward. "You have a problem with us clearing the filth you were too slow to kill?"
"We have a problem with glory thieves."
The ambush began.
Plasma fire streaked across the terrain. Lan dropped flat, rolled, and fired three clean shots—two helmets burst, one throat exploded.
Zhuang stormed forward, using his shield like a bulldozer, smashing opponents into rubble. His hammer swung like a divine judgment, cracking bones and armor alike.
Xing was unleashed, turning the enemy's flank into shredded pulp. He tore through ten men in seconds.
Lan activated his drone suite—mini-turrets spun into place and began auto-firing, pinning down the remaining fighters.
Within seven minutes, it was over.
Blood pooled under broken bodies. Smoke curled into the night sky.
"Clear," Lan muttered.
KORA pinged: "Final 12 missions completed."
Silence fell.
Then a quiet beep.
LAN-YH-01 — Rank Updated: High-A Tier.
New Designation: Rank-3, Elite Specialist.
22:30 Hours, Shanghai Eastern Outskirts, Temporary Bivouac
Lan sat by the campfire, helmet off, staring at the stars. Zhuang Niao roasted protein slabs nearby. Xing dozed beside them, breath steady.
"Over two hundred missions in a day," Zhuang said. "And still breathing."
Lan sipped his nutrient drink. "We're not done yet."
"Oh? What's next?"
Lan didn't look away from the flames. "We've drawn too much attention. That ambush? That's not the last."
"And the rival guilds?"
"They'll come harder next time."
Zhuang Niao smiled, teeth white in firelight. "Let them."
Lan nodded. "Let them."