One by one, the members of the expedition team opened their waterproof packs and began retrieving gear suited for dry terrain, preparing to explore the inner recesses of the cave. Suddenly, a faint and sorrowful sigh drifted through the air. The group froze in alarm, their flashlights sweeping frantically in every direction.
"Who's there? Show yourself!"
"It's the monster! Grab your gear—now!"
The beam from the woman's flashlight landed squarely on the crevice where Li Zhui lay concealed. "Friend," she called, "why not come out and say hello?"
Li Zhui rose slowly to his feet. Instantly, a dozen flashlight beams converged on him—though to their credit, none dared shine directly into his face.
"What are you here for?" he asked coolly. "Corpses or contraband?"
He had already concluded that these people were not affiliated with the East Pacific Corporation—but neither were they ordinary adventurers.
"We came across a body downstream," Xie Donghao replied evenly. "That's what led us here. But make no mistake—we're not here to scavenge or steal."
Li Zhui remained silent, waiting for him to go on. Xie Donghao, however, wavered—uncertain whether candor would be wise. Li Zhui's menacing presence offered no reassurance; he might very well be the threat they were warned about.
"We're members of the Green Preservation Alliance," the young woman finally said. "Four days ago, a massive explosion rocked Mashao Ridge. Since then, we've found corpses drifting downstream—that's what led us here."
"So what exactly are you hoping to find?" Li Zhui asked coolly. "The truth? Very well—those guards were blown apart by Dongtai's own bombs. Does that revelation hold any value for you?"
"Twenty days ago, after the collapse at Jigong Ridge, someone witnessed strange creatures emerging from underground. We're trying to determine whether it's connected to the explosion at Mashao Ridge."
A smirk tugged at Li Zhui's lips. He had no idea what kind of organization this 'Green Preservation Alliance' was, but clearly, they were reaching far beyond their grasp.
"Impressive. Your imagination is positively vivid. Still, little girl, perhaps your monster-hunting fantasies are best left to video games in the comfort of your home."
"My name is Feng Suaner. I'm twenty-two," she said with quiet defiance.
Before Li Zhui could respond, the humanoid salamanders in the pool suddenly stirred, surging toward him in tight formation. Beneath his feet, the water vibrated with a familiar resonance—a warning.
With no hesitation, Li Zhui sprang from the rocks and sprinted toward the entrance of the dry passage, the salamanders following at his heels.
"If you want to live, get inside!" he shouted over his shoulder as he vanished into the tunnel.
"Go!" cried Feng Suaner, bolting after him. Huzi, ever her shadow, raced close behind.
Xie Donghao hesitated only a moment before signaling two teammates to follow him in. But David, ever the contrarian, led another man and dove into the water instead.
Li Zhui felt as light as a feather, each step infused with grace and power. Since his second fusion, his strength, speed, and reflexes had all ascended to a new tier. Now, with a simple stomp of one foot, he could spring two meters high. In mere seconds, he reached a narrow platform above.
Then came the screams—blood-curdling and unmistakable. No need to guess; David and his companion were gone.
Glancing back, Li Zhui saw Feng Suaner and Huzi halfway up the slope. Xie Donghao's group had only made it about fifty meters in—not for lack of effort, but because the tunnel's incline grew steeper the deeper it went. At that point, the slope had reached a 45-degree angle—climbing axes were needed.
"Drop your packs! Now!" Li Zhui bellowed.
The trio fumbled to comply—but it was too late.
A thunderous roar erupted behind them. The octopus beast had arrived.
Over the course of several fierce encounters, the creature had evolved into a monstrous warrior. Two of its tentacles now gripped a massive iron mallet, spinning it with terrifying precision like a martial artist twirling a staff, guarding its approach with impenetrable defense.
The rock at the tunnel mouth crumbled beneath the pounding of the maul, cascading like a sandfall. The beast's hulking mass surged forward without pause, forcing its way through the narrow passage as though its body were liquid stone.
The air grew thick with a scent it recognized—one that drove it into a frenzy. With a deafening shriek, it raised the iron mallet high and charged up the tunnel like a storm let loose.
At that very moment, She Yaoyao screamed and hefted the grenade launcher. Without aiming, she yanked the trigger.
The first stun grenade missed by a spectacular margin, exploding thirty meters ahead of the beast—directly in front of Xie Donghao's team. The shockwave slammed into them, knocking all three unconscious and sending them tumbling back to the base of the slope.
The second round, a fragmentation grenade, landed ten meters from the monster. The shrapnel peppered its flesh like rain on granite—useless.
The third grenade, another fragmentation shell, flew straight and true—her accuracy had improved dramatically.
The creature's response was instantaneous. With lightning reflexes, it swung the iron maul upward and intercepted the grenade mid-flight, detonating it in a blast of sparks and smoke.
A 40mm grenade has a lethal radius of five meters—for humans. For this beast, it was as bothersome as a school of biting fish to a crocodile.
The scent of its own blood sent the octopus beast into a frenzy. From its nostrils burst an eerie, guttural screech as it launched itself at She Yaoyao with even greater speed and ferocity.
After her first three test shots, Yaoyao's confidence swelled. She adjusted her serpentine frame and, without instruction, assumed a textbook shoulder-firing stance with uncanny ease.
The fourth round—a stun grenade once again—was launched. The octopus creature met it as before, deflecting it with a deft flick of its iron mallet. But unlike a fragmentation shell, the stun grenade dealt soft damage. And this particular one was laced with a flash effect.
Octopuses, by nature, possess the remarkable ability of RNA editing. Their nervous systems can shut down sodium channels upon trauma, rendering them impervious to pain. But a sudden burst of intense light in utter darkness is a primal terror for most creatures—especially for one inherently timid, and at such close range.
As the blinding flash detonated, the beast convulsed as if struck by lightning, curling into a tight, defenseless ball.
Yaoyao, too, was startled by the blinding flare and deafening blast. Instinctively, she ducked with each shot. By the time she rose to fire again, the creature had recovered, recoiled abruptly, and vanished within a blink.
"Well done, Yaoyao!" Li Zhui exclaimed, elated, pulling her into a bear hug.
Yaoyao tilted her head back and let out a hissing shriek. She had meant to giggle with delight, but her tongue, stiff as if afflicted with boils, betrayed her intentions, producing only that strange, sibilant sound.
Hearing her own grotesque cry, she lowered her head in sorrow.
"Don't worry," Li Zhui said gently. "Once we get out of here, I'll find you the best doctor. I promise—you will speak again."
Her face brightened with a radiant smile, and she leaned her head softly against his chest. A strange unease stirred in Li Zhui. With a hasty excuse to check their surroundings, he quickly slipped away.
The earlier explosions had been too distant to seriously affect Feng Suaner and Huzi. The two were now making their way back down the slope to aid their fallen comrades.
Li Zhui bounded down and intercepted them effortlessly. "Hey, little brother, little sister, you need to head up now! That octopus thing could return any moment!"
"Big brother, your kindness is appreciated!" Feng Suaner called out. "But our friends are in danger—we can't abandon them!"
"You can't save them," Li Zhui pleaded earnestly. "I'm serious. The moment you go down, that monster will charge right in!"
He genuinely liked them, and it pained him to see them risk their lives in vain. But Feng Suaner remained resolute.
Seeing no other option, he shook his head and reached for a grenade strapped to his tactical vest. Handing it to her, he said, "This is a quick-blast grenade, sometimes called a loyalty bomb. Flip the safety cap, press the button, then release—it goes off immediately."
To his surprise, Feng Suaner accepted it without hesitation. "Thanks, big brother. I'll use it if it comes to that."
"One more thing—when that creature grabs someone, it tends to shove them downward. Its mouth... is down there."
Feng Sanyer's imagination was razor-sharp; in an instant, she deduced their location. Instinctively, she cast a glance at Lizhui before pivoting and leaping down the slope.
Her leap was a thing of beauty—feet pounding the ground, body rising into the air, arms outstretched like the wings of a falcon in descent.
By the beam of a flashlight, one could see—her soles were nowhere to be found.
As it turned out, Feng Sanyer had been born without soles; beneath her shins extended elongated toes, curved like the talons of a raptor. All her footwear was custom-made: the inner layer a soft, split-toe sheath, and the outer, a standard mountaineering boot that doubled as an artificial sole.
Huzi was quite the opposite. He moved on all fours, head low and limbs braced, charging forward like a starving tiger pouncing on prey. His limbs were shorter than average but correspondingly more muscular, giving him a curiously elongated torso in contrast.
Lizhui couldn't help but feel a flicker of suspicion—these two moved with such uncanny grace, their bodies so unlike ordinary humans. Could they be genetically modified as well?
The three members of Jie Donghao's team lay unconscious. After a cursory check, Sanyer judged Jie's injuries to be the lightest and gestured for Huzi to carry him.
In a moment of crisis, this was the most equitable principle of rescue—offering survival first to the one most likely to make it, rather than the gravely wounded.
Suddenly, a gust of wind surged through the passage. Sanyer's heart skipped a beat. Before she could react, a tentacle—over four meters long—coiled tightly around her waist.
Huzi's back jolted. He flung Jie Donghao to the ground and launched himself at the appendage. But with a flick, it swatted him away like a rag doll, sending him crashing against the rock wall with a sharp crack.
Sanyer was frozen in terror. Recalling Lizhui's warning, she bit down hard, popped the safety cap off the grenade with her thumb—but before she could press the trigger, the device was already flung from her grasp.
The octopus beast was no mindless brute. Like a seasoned martial arts master, it was aware of all directions at once. The moment it sensed her intent, another tentacle flicked out and batted the grenade away effortlessly.
Surprisingly, the creature didn't immediately harm her. Instead of dragging her downward, it brought her close to its face and inhaled deeply through its nasal cavities. Then, it emitted a guttural, almost chuckling sound, writhing its limbs in a grotesque display of excitement.
To her horror, the thing was… aroused. The monster, originally a male octopus, had integrated human DNA—and that sliver of masculinity had awakened some primal instinct toward the female form.
With no intention of continuing the fight, it began retreating, attempting to flee with its prize. But Huzi let out a defiant roar, leaping between two tentacles to strike at the creature's humanoid torso.
The beast twisted its limbs with chilling precision, easily capturing Huzi and shoving him toward the grotesque orifice beneath its body.
Just as Huzi was about to meet his grisly end, the creature suddenly repositioned him as a shield in front of itself, pushing Sanyer to the rear.
Lizhui had launched a ferocious assault, giving the monster no time to savor its would-be victim.
Like a raging storm, it swung Huzi around as a living shield, blocking several incoming "explosives" that turned out to be nothing more than rocks. But now it was truly enraged—muscles coiled, fury ignited—it charged at Lizhui with unstoppable force.
Lizhui vaulted into the stream, his back pressed against the slick stone channel, sliding swiftly downstream. At the fleeting moment he brushed past the octopus monster, he raised his hand and hurled a grenade beneath its vulnerable rear orifice. The fuse timing was impeccably calculated, detonating almost instantaneously upon release. The blast's shockwave tossed him upward, accelerating his descent.
The creature's rear orifice was its weakest point. After every battle, the octopus's injuries thickened and toughened its limbs, torso, and head—areas most battered now nearly impervious. Yet its rear remained unscarred until that grenade shattered it into fragments, pulverizing its chitinous teeth and causing a torrent of gore to spill forth.
The monster tumbled and collapsed at the entrance of the passage. In that instant of its agony, Sun'er and Huzi instinctively flung themselves clear.
Lizhui rolled and sprang up, lunging at the beast while drawing another grenade. Though wounded himself, he knew respite was premature; if he failed to slay the creature now, the next encounter would be even grimmer.
He swiftly pulled the grenade's pin, aiming for the rear orifice, when the monster suddenly contracted, retracting its spilled entrails.
Without hesitation, Lizhui launched the grenade, pivoted on his heel, and leapt twice to Sun'er's side, seizing her hair with ruthless urgency. "Get up! Quickly!"
Though unharmed, Sun'er was limp and powerless—understandably so. Any ordinary woman, ensnared by such a monster and pressed so close, would have been petrified with terror.
Lizhui was no sentimental poet; with a sharp tug, he flung her into the stream's channel.
Then he dashed to Huzi, hoisted him onto his shoulders, and sprinted furiously up the cave's incline.
Regardless of the nature of their relationship, or Lizhui's reasons, Huzi's willingness to risk himself to save Sun'er revealed a man of true mettle.
Without hesitation, Lizhui resolved to save Huzi, leaving Sun'er's fate to the mercy of destiny.