Chapter Seventy-Four: Find It, Devour It!

As Liu Hao tried to defend himself, the breathing of the group grew heavier. Yang Shuo and Hu Huayao gripped their weapons so tightly that the whites and blacks of their eyes seemed to flush blood-red in an instant.

If everything Liu Hao said was true—that the dragging noises had always come from ahead—then this fifth set of footsteps was clearly right among them.

In the pitch-black corridor, some unknown presence had been clinging close to them. Some of those inadvertent brushes when they started walking might well have come from that thing.

“No one move,” Fan Li spoke abruptly. If that potential set of footsteps belonged to a zombie, none of those behind would stand a chance.

The fact that Yang Shuo and the others hadn’t been attacked proved that the owner of those footsteps, for some special reason, had yet to strike.

Panicking now could only make things worse. Keeping to their previous caution was the only way to find a breakthrough.

A deathly stillness fell.

Everyone’s nerves were taut as bowstrings. If it weren’t for Fan Li’s intimidating presence, they would have already panicked and bolted.

Fan Li reached into his waist pouch and pulled out a pink music box. As he wound it up, his body turned to face behind.

A grayish-white field of vision appeared before Fan Li’s eyes. At that moment, the other three were clearly enduring some vast terror, their faces unable to mask their panic.

Fan Li had no time to pay attention to them. He kept scanning the surroundings with his eyes—there was no sign of any intruder in sight. Where did those footsteps come from? Was someone lying among them?

The footsteps sounded from the ground, and Fan Li’s gaze dropped. As he looked down, his pupils shrank to slits.

Right behind Yang Shuo, less than three centimeters from his heel, a pair of bare, unshod feet stood perfectly still.

Those feet looked nothing like the others’. The toenails were thick, long, and jagged, more like a beast’s claws. At the severed stumps, countless strands of blood hung down, wafting and vertical like the long hair of a drowned corpse in a river, always wavy and trailing.

Fan Li didn’t hesitate. He flung the now-unwinding music box, shoved Hu Huayao and Yang Shuo aside, and, swinging with all his might, brought the katana down on those feet.

With a sharp crack, the pair of feet that had followed them for nearly a hundred meters was struck by the blade. Fan Li felt resistance—as if he’d hit stone, not flesh. Certainly not the toughness of an ordinary foot.

But the katana, having drunk the blood of monsters, had already transformed, its sharpness far beyond before. Though he felt some resistance, Fan Li’s full-force swing still severed them in two.

A familiar melody tinkled through the darkness as the music box played. It was Ellie’s vessel, not so easily destroyed. When Fan Li had sensed a special enemy nearby, he’d started winding the music box, and, just as it reached its limit, hurled it away and launched his attack.

For Yang Shuo and the others, the sudden sound only made their nerves tighter. Lacking night vision, they were blind in the darkness, completely at a disadvantage.

Fan Li ignored the music, focusing solely on the severed feet. Even though they’d been sliced in half, the pieces continued to twitch without a body, and from the fresh breaks, minute blood filaments extended, like the sticky threads of a broken lotus root, trying to draw themselves back together.

Seeing this, a chill ran through Fan Li’s heart. He tensed, unconsciously.

He had explored many regions and seen all kinds of zombies and monsters, but such bizarre self-repair was a first.

He wouldn’t give it the chance. He kicked the broken piece far away, then hacked the remaining part into several more fragments. The blood strands still spawned, but much slower now.

“What in the world is this thing?”

Suddenly, a sharp clapping sound rang out beside his ear. Out of the corner of his eye, Fan Li saw a pair of pale, bloodless arms with long nails extending right up to his ear, clapping mockingly.

It was just like the childhood prank where kids would try to startle each other, but here, there was no body attached—just two arms suspended in midair.

The abrupt clapping made Fan Li hesitate for a split second. In that instant, the arm whipped sideways, its claws raking straight for his forehead.

With a crack, Fan Li felt as if five bullets had hit him at once. He didn’t feel any warm liquid on his scalp—his defense held. Even so, his head spun, and he nearly collapsed.

Both the footsteps and the clapping seemed intended to draw attention and push victims into terror before striking.

Those non-human claws and body parts—one scratch could easily turn someone into a zombie.

The floating arm’s severed end, too, writhed with dense blood filaments. It seemed to know Fan Li had just destroyed part of its body. As Fan Li reeled from the blow, stunned, both arms joined at the palms, like an arrow, and lunged for his throat.

At such close range, Fan Li had no time to react.

But just as the arms were about to strike, a small hand shot from the void and caught the attack short.

The arms struggled but couldn’t break free.

The owner of the small hand stood beside them—a faceless figure whose entire visage was covered with rows of rotating teeth. The writhing blood filaments from before drew in toward its mouth as if sucked by some force, and were swallowed whole.

The arms withered and shriveled before the naked eye. Once the blood threads were consumed, the arms turned to dry, lifeless sticks, which were then tossed aside.

Ellie seemed unsatisfied with this appetizer. Turning, her toothy, eyeless face fixed on Yang Shuo and the others. She stepped forward, teeth whirring, as if selecting her next meal.

Yang Shuo and his group had no idea the danger had already crept upon them. As Ellie’s teeth spun faster, a broad hand suddenly came down from above, pressing firmly on her head and forcibly turning her around.

Fan Li could still feel the searing pain next to his ear. He’d never endured such an injury, and it left him especially enraged. If there were arms and legs, then surely the torso and head were lurking nearby.

This was not a power possessed by zombies. Clearly, the hunter hiding in the shadows had undergone another mutation.

Twisting Ellie’s body, Fan Li crouched low, his cheek brushing close to her ear. He swept his gaze around, his voice cold, his eyes burning with rare fury:

“Find it—and devour it!”