The rain had turned entirely pitch-black.
The warriors of the Loong Shadow Sequence wasted no words. At this moment, when gunpowder weapons had been reduced to scrap metal, the electromagnetic railguns on their backs emitted a death-like hum.
"Hostility confirmed. Target locked. Clear." The lead warrior lightly tapped his finger. There was no smoke, only several bolts of ghostly blue electricity tearing through the curtain of rain.
The "Heavy Crossbow Suicide Squad", Cold Snake's pride, didn't even have time to pull their triggers before their steel helmets buckled and deformed. The men were sent flying by the massive kinetic force, pinned ruthlessly against the hospital's outer walls.
It was a power that transcended conventional understanding. While the Goddess had erased the logic of "chemical explosion", She had granted the highest priority to "pure kinetic energy".
The rain showed no signs of slowing; instead, due to some unknown magnetic disturbance, countless tiny vortices formed in mid-air. Cold Snake felt an unprecedented sense of absurdity. She watched as the leader of the B.E.N. suicide squad pulled his hydraulic crossbow again.
In a normal physical world, that high-carbon steel bolt should have pierced the Loong Shadow warrior's eye socket within 0.1 seconds. But now, the hydraulic pump emitted a shrill grinding noise, and the bolt slid limply to the ground like it was stuck in glue, letting out a crisp metallic clink.
"The logic... is completely severed," Cold Snake felt a chill in her heart. She finally realized that the Beast God hadn't just revoked gunpowder; She had revoked all "long-range lethality logic" belonging to human civilization within this zone.
But the Loong Shadow Sequence was different. Not only were they in a region the Beast God had yet to liquidate, but the lead warrior hadn't even fired his weapon. He gripped the longblade at his waist with a reverse hold, and the exoskeleton armor at his feet emitted a dull hiss of exhaust.
That was pure mechanical work—no explosions, no complex reaction chains, just the ultimate enhancement of primitive springs and levers.
Boom!
The black figure vanished instantly. A second later, the suicide squad leader's chest felt as though it had been struck by an invisible sledgehammer. He was sent hurtling backward over ten meters, slamming heavily into a concrete pillar outside the ward.
Before he could hit the ground, the LoongShadow warrior's blade sliced through the air. No flashy sword-light, just the coldest physical severing. The squad leader's head spun through the air, the cut as smooth as a mirror.
"Close-quarters combat. Leave no survivors." The Loong Shadow warrior's voice held no emotion, sounding like a judgment from a frozen wasteland.
Dozens of Loong Shadow soldiers moved like a black tide, instantly drowning the B.E.N. suicide squad. It was a staggering asymmetry.
On one side, vaunted tactical prowess collapsed in the face of broken physical logic; on the other were killing machines born to adapt to "gunfire, brawling, and head-on" environments. The sound of blades entering flesh, the snapping of bones, and screams forcibly suppressed in throats echoed through the rain.
Chen Haoran stood aside, his eyelids twitching. As a veteran SWAT officer, he felt like an amateur at this moment. Every move of the Loong Shadow Sequence was for efficiency, devoid of performance. They advanced over the corpses of their enemies, their black armor drenched in thick plasma.
As Cold Snake watched her men fall like wheat, her mind reeled. In her distraction, she was wounded by Zhizhi, who had been looking for a chance to bite her. Blood bubbled from her neck, and a destructive madness finally flared in her icy emerald eyes.
"So what if the logic failed? We still have the 'Bio-Pumps' left by the Nazis! Inject them!"
Dozens of B.E.N. suicide squad members pulled out eerie green vials and slammed them into their cervical spines.
Their muscles began to bulge irregularly, their eyeballs turned bloodshot and nearly burst, and they let out inhuman roars. This was the final, hideous snarl of a civilization using distorted biochemistry to fight an ineffable divine decree.
At that moment, Zhizhi, positioned in the center of the battlefield, froze. Its body—originally a soul projection of a rat—began to undergo a visible "melting" process, its stature growing larger. The nails on its paws retracted rapidly, replaced by eighteen hooked claws shimmering with a metallic luster. its once fluffy back arched, and its white fur stiffened into spikes like a porcupine's.
Far away in the Divine Realm, the BeastGod—with Her elegant golden eyes like those of a lion cat—gazed at the puzzle piece belonging to Zhizhi. Through layers of dimensions, She projected Her will into Zhizhi's pupils.
"Hiss—"
The sound Zhizhi emitted was no longer a rat's squeak, but a high-frequency, bestial roar capable of shattering glass!
"Freeze," a single word fell, heard by none.
The dozens of mutated B.E.N. suicide agents stood frozen, as if caught in a temporal stasis or under a spell of spiritual shock, left completely defenceless to be harvested by the Loong Shadow Sequence.
While everyone's attention was drawn to the execution of the mutants, Zhizhi leapt. It wasn't a jump, but a teleportation.
Cold Snake felt only a cold gust of air, saturated with the scent of rain and extreme lethality, rushing toward her. She instinctively raised her arm to parry, only to hear a sharp crack as her nano-bracers—designed to withstand the full strike of a master combatant—shattered like paper under Zhizhi's claws.
"You... what on earth are you?" Cold Snake slumped into the muddy water, staring at the nameless creature before her.
Zhizhi did not answer. Its blood-stained, half-rat-half-beast face pressed to within centimetres of her own.
"Squeak—!"
It was the declaration of the Reaper. Zhizhi's claws blurred into afterimages, locking onto Cold Snake's shoulders. With a tooth-grinding sound of tearing flesh, her arms were brutally ripped from their sockets. The ace agent of B.E.N. finally let out the last and most agonizing scream of her career.
Zhizhi stood in the rain, covered in gore, pacing and sniffing like a restless, trapped predator before letting out a heaven-shaking roar. Cold Snake's corpse lay at his feet like a tattered cotton coat.
Chen Haoran stopped Tian Shuangxin from running toward him. The Loong Shadow warriors also raised their weapons, aiming at the monster that could hardly be called a "fancy rat" anymore. Tian Shuangxin was frantic, but she knew Zhizhi was more afraid than she was. Only she could hear "her" crying—that soft, wailing voice striking her heart bit by bit.
She turned to Chen Haoran with a look of unprecedented seriousness—not the look of someone seeking death, but the resolute eyes of a "Mama". Seeing this, Chen Haoran lowered his gaze. He had seen this look on his brothers-in-arms; he found he could no longer stop her.
The Loong Shadow warriors intended to intervene, but seeing the faint red thread shimmering on Zhizhi, they stepped aside to make way.
"Zhizhi." Two voices spoke—one with a faint, ethereal divinity, the other with trembling maternal love.
"The form is similar but not the same; the time is not yet come. It is time for you to wake."
"Let's go home. Mama will bake strawberry cookies for you, alright?"
"Zhi... Zhizhi?" Tian Shuangxin reached out a trembling hand. The orange light orb hovered over Zhizhi's head, raining down specks of stardust.
Zhizhi's massive, bloodshot eyes twitched. It turned its head to look at Tian Shuangxin, her reflection caught in its pupils. In that instant, the frenzied bestial nature receded like a tide, replaced by extreme exhaustion and attachment. Its massive frame began to sway. It stumbled forward two steps and collapsed at Tian Shuangxin's feet with a heavy thud.
It was not unconscious. Using the last of its strength, it rested its bloodied head against Tian Shuangxin's ankle, nuzzling it gently. Just as it had years ago—the tiny, weak fancy rat waiting in its cage for her to come home.
"Squeak..." A tiny sound, nearly swallowed by the rain.
Tian Shuangxin threw herself down, tightly embracing the gore-scented body. The spikes on its back had already turned soft the moment she drew near. To the amazement of everyone watching, the creature gradually reverted to its original tiny form, nestled in her arms.
Before closing its eyes, the creature spoke in that soft, sweet voice only she could hear: "Mama, I caught the pests... am I... very amazing?"
Chen Haoran stood nearby and slowly took off his hat. Rain fell on his head as he watched the two of them amidst the ruins. Only one thought remained in his heart: The world is finally quiet.
The battle was over. The Loong ShadowSequence had completed the sweep. No enemy stood in the corridor, only the scent of blood too thick to dissipate. The lead Loong Shadow warrior sheathed his blade and bowed his head slightly toward the void.
"The battle is concluded. The foreign enemies are eliminated."
As the words fell, a screen popped up in front of everyone.
Inside the frame of Livestream RoomA, a mutilated little white rat appeared as if being crushed by an invisible, giant hand; finger-pressure marks were clearly visible upon its white fur.
Splat. The white rat's plasma and internal organs erupted from its mouth as its body flattened out.
Simultaneously, the global broadcast of Livestream Room A froze on this very scene. There were no filters, no edits.
[System Judgment: Biological pressure 1:1 replication complete. The evacuation speed of Zhu Yulu's internal organs is perfectly synchronized with the white rat she tortured to death; accurate to the second.]
Like an old television set, the screen flickered with static before refreshing:
[Second Case: Execution Complete]
[Username of the Executed: Luoluo (Original Name: Zhu Yulu)]
[Recorded Sacrificed Lives: 1,104]
[Current Progress: 1,104 / 1,104]
[Status: Zero-deviation Replication]
The livestream bullet chat erupted into yet another tidal wave of reaction. Billions of people were condemning Zhu Yulu, claiming she was unworthy of being human, barbaric, and entirely devoid of empathy.
Meanwhile, those trolls and fans who had previously defended her were now unconscious, succumbing to the aftermath of their agonizing phantom pains.
In the Blue Phoenix's space within the Divine Realm, Qinghong had no time to concern herself with such matters. Due to the earlier massive tremors, everything had fallen into disarray. She was busy organizing, arranging, and cleaning, all while remembering to water the divine trees and immortal herbs; she was run off her feet.
No one noticed that under the directives of the Hive, the Guardians were quietly altering their previous ways of conduct.
The winds of a new era have begun to blow—but whether it will be a hurricane or a gentle breeze, no one knows.