Chapter Thirty-One: Yao Zhenyuan

In the heart of the island, decades ago, there used to be a small town. The ruins of buildings and the cracked concrete roads, weathered by years of time, had become overgrown with weeds and clusters of fungal umbrellas. Still, heaps of corroded car wrecks and layers upon layers of stubborn plastic waste could be found amid the decay.

Now, four unexpected visitors walked down a street that had lain desolate for years. There was an ugly woman, a man with skin as dark as coal, an old man, and, walking at the center, a young man.

"Fortunately, we secretly brought a locator. Otherwise, surviving alone in such a genuine wilderness would be nearly impossible. Young Master Yao truly has foresight." The ugly woman, with jaw-like limbs sprouting from her ribs, whistled cheerfully, evidently in high spirits.

"It was just my father's arrangement. The original idea was that, if anything happened, we could quickly regroup," Yao Zhenyuan replied calmly, shaking his head. "Who would've thought the selection would just throw us straight into the wild? It's a pity about Old Bai—he didn’t die on the plane but ended up with a fake parachute and splattered into a mess."

Their group had once included Old Bai, forming a small cohort led by Yao Zhenyuan. The ugly woman had reached ninety percent development of her gene prototype three years ago, but had waited out of fear of death and a desire to accompany Yao Zhenyuan, serving as a half-bodyguard for the councilman’s son.

On the plane, they had teamed up to seize five parachute packs and jumped together. Lacking experience, they couldn't control their descent mid-air and scattered upon landing, not knowing where anyone ended up. Thankfully, they had hidden their locators beforehand, or reuniting would have been near impossible.

"Stay alert and search for traces of other contestants," Yao Zhenyuan cautioned, noticing the ugly woman’s carelessness.

"Young Master Yao, we already have seventeen communicators now. You’re sure to pass the selection," the dark-skinned man said obsequiously.

The danger of this selection far exceeded his expectations, and he had already resigned himself to failure. Now, he simply wished to help the councilman’s son pass, securing a favor that would ensure his future.

"The night is still long. As long as we avoid the mutated beasts, killing another dozen or so people shouldn’t be a problem," Yao Zhenyuan swept his gaze over the surroundings, ever vigilant. "My father is a distinguished councilman. A mere dozen isn’t enough to bring him honor—at least half the people on this island must die."

"Indeed, Young Master Yao is right. Killing only a handful hardly befits your status," the ugly woman hastily flattered him.

She harbored her own ambitions: if enough people were killed, perhaps she could claim a communicator or two for herself and become one of the coveted ability-wielders.

"Exactly," the old man, who had been silent, finally echoed.

Yao Zhenyuan stroked the holster at his waist, his serpent-like triangular eyes filled with regret. "But we’re running low on bullets. The last few victims had nearly exhausted theirs."

"I only have a few left myself," the old man murmured.

"It’s those mutated beasts. Even with four of us, we’re no match, let alone the others. I bet the first thing people do when they encounter one is fire wildly, then panic and flee," the dark-skinned man chuckled, shaking the bag in his hand, which issued a faint rattling sound.

"Weren’t several of those ‘prey’ caught because of their gunfire?"

"Enough chatter. Stay alert!" Yao Zhenyuan’s tone was severe this time, and the other three immediately fell silent, taking up positions to guard the surroundings.

Yao Zhenyuan did not fear other gene prototype injectees, but he was deeply wary of mutated beasts.

He still remembered clearly, just three hours earlier, when they were besieging a woman. Suddenly, a monstrous bird appeared, its razor-like beak tearing open the woman's body in an instant, drenching him in blood.

If the creature hadn’t swaggered off with its prey, their group might have lost even more members.

Yao Zhenyuan sighed, regretting not studying mutated beasts more diligently. He had assumed that even in the wilderness or mining zones, computers would always be available for reference, never realizing that facing a beast would leave no time to consult anything.

Most of the time, unless you could recall their weaknesses in the first second, you wouldn’t get a second chance.

"Hmm?" The dark-skinned man, the ugly woman, and Yao Zhenyuan all turned simultaneously, hearing the faint sound of shoes on the ground.

Someone was approaching!

A figure emerged from the dense fog, young in age, with vertical pupils that gazed at them like sharpened swords.

"I want your communicators. Hand them over," the newcomer said softly, but his words unsettled them.

Was he insane? He was threatening four people alone? Yao Zhenyuan nearly laughed aloud, and the ugly woman couldn’t help but smirk.

"Interesting, but I’ll give you a bullet instead," the dark-skinned man snarled, raising his gun.

Ji Cheng’s lips curled in a smile. He glanced at the dark-skinned man, instantly recalling the relevant information.

His entire body was black, with exposed digestive glands on both cheeks—a gene prototype known as the Demon Lizard, purely combat-oriented like the Lynx. Enhanced neural reflexes and muscle strength, along with highly toxic saliva, made him a formidable opponent.

Ji Cheng spun deftly, dodging the gun’s aim. A wrist blade sprang from his sleeve with a metallic clang, dancing in the sparse moonlight, tracing a line of blood across the concrete.

Bang.

Only then did the dark-skinned man fire, but his aim was wildly off.

His lips quivered as he clutched the wound Ji Cheng had opened, terror etched across his face.

"So, you intend to kill me," Ji Cheng’s voice grew cheerful, his gaze passing over the dark-skinned man as if looking at something far away.

In that instant, he activated the Tyrant Serum; a burning sensation coursed through his veins, bloodlust and brutality climbing into his eyes.

Ji Cheng slowly drew the Vulture from his waist, discarded the holster, and leisurely cocked his thumb, the hammer clicking crisply into firing position.

Actually, the gun could be fired without cocking the hammer, but this made the trigger stiffer, requiring more force and slowing the action. In a life-or-death confrontation, even a slight delay could affect reaction time and shooting accuracy.

The sound of the hammer unnerved his adversaries. The four quickly spread out.

The dark-skinned man pressed against a half-collapsed wall, seeking a modicum of safety. The ugly woman and the old man circled to the right, while Yao Zhenyuan remained at the center, squinting, scrutinizing Ji Cheng.

"Very well. You’ve angered me," Ji Cheng swept his gaze across the street, finally settling on Yao Zhenyuan. "Looks like you’re the leader…"

Bang!

Ji Cheng’s words were cut short as he suddenly raised his gun at the dark-skinned man, swift as lightning, silent and without warning. The bullet tore through the air, the heavy-tipped round exploding in the narrow street.

The dark-skinned man was caught completely off guard. The spinning bullet pierced his chest, pulping his organs, and the impact slammed him against the wall. He rebounded, blood splattering across the half-collapsed gray bricks.

Such was the heavy-tipped lead round: though of modest power, once it struck flesh, it would tumble, inflicting devastating damage.

The remaining three finally realized—their strongest attacker, the Demon Lizard, had been killed instantly!

"Open fire," Yao Zhenyuan barked coldly.

Ji Cheng lunged to the right, followed by a roll, as bullets rained down on the fungus-covered ground behind him.

He sidestepped twice more, suddenly halting. Another volley of shots battered the ground before him, gouging deep pits in the concrete and raising powdery stone dust into the air.

After dodging the barrage, Ji Cheng retaliated, aiming a short burst at Yao Zhenyuan.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He refrained from firing continuously, to avoid muzzle climb and the resulting loss of accuracy. After all, his opponents were gene prototype-enhanced experts—quick and agile.

At the same time, Ji Cheng was mindful of his limited ammunition; he had only a small box of ten rounds.