Chapter Five: The Colossal Insect Monster

At the edge of the distant cluster of buildings, a pitch-black rift as thick as an arm suddenly appeared. From within that rift, a gigantic, milky-white worm was writhing and twisting. Most of its body had already emerged, its snowy form a stark contrast against the darkness, making it especially conspicuous in this dim space.

Shen Lie gazed upon the scene in horror. The creature’s entire body must have stretched twenty or thirty meters, thicker than an oil drum. Most astonishing of all, a line of black-and-white wings grew along its back, and the thunderous roar he’d heard earlier was the sound of these wings beating.

“Shit!”

Shen Lie was at a loss for words. Compared to this monstrous worm, the severed heads in the great hall were nothing but a drizzle, and the spider monsters that invaded Earth seemed as harmless as ants. He glanced again at the ruins and collapsed buildings surrounding him, then at the giant insect about to squeeze out of the rift. With a strangled cry, he dashed toward the only intact great hall, all his previous resistance forgotten!

“Buzz, buzz, buzz…”

Shen Lie sprinted toward the hall like a madman, even faster than when he’d fled from it before. He didn’t know if safety awaited within, but at this moment, it was his last hope, the final lifeline he could grasp.

He felt as though he was running as fast as a world-class sprinter; even the wind howled past his ears as the last dregs of his strength were wrung out in the face of death. But even so, he was still a step too late. When he was still several dozen meters from the entrance, the giant worm let out a piercing screech. Its bloated body broke free from the rift and entered this world completely.

Its eyes were small, yet it immediately sensed the only living being in this space—Shen Lie. With a tremor of its wings, the massive body shot toward him like a flash of white lightning.

He was less than ten meters from the entrance now, but that short distance felt like an unbridgeable chasm. A powerful premonition welled up inside him: if only he could reach the safety of the hall, the giant worm would not pursue him inside. But fate gave him no such chance.

He had not even time to look back. He only felt a fetid wind at his back, the crushing pressure making his already weak legs tremble uncontrollably, making it impossible to take even one more step forward.

“So this is the apocalypse, then. One wrong step and you die. If I’d known, I never would have let curiosity lead me to examine that jade pendant. Maybe I’d still be eking out a living in the safe zone. I wonder how Cousin Wenwan is doing…” The monster was so overwhelmingly powerful that Shen Lie never even considered resisting. Yet strangely, in this moment, his heart was calm, even finding room to worry about his cousin.

He thought for certain he would become food for the monster in the next instant. Yet his legs continued to move mechanically, carrying him forward—until he suddenly realized, to his astonishment, that he’d made it inside the great hall alive.

“What’s going on?” His mind was blank for a moment, then euphoric.

“I’m alive! I’m not dead! I’m alive! I’m not dead! Ah—ha ha ha…” Shen Lie didn’t know why the giant worm hadn’t devoured him. Maybe his scent was unappetizing, maybe he was too small, or maybe the creature was a vegetarian. Whatever the reason, the monster had given up, and as soon as he entered the hall, the suffocating pressure vanished.

“Looks like my luck is still as tough as ever.” As the tide of terror receded, he found himself shouting just to vent his nerves. But in the next moment, he remembered the hall wasn’t exactly safe either—there had been all those strange severed heads!

“Damn, what now?” Gathering his scattered wits, Shen Lie tried to check on the heads—only to find the hall was empty. Not a single head remained.

“Am I seeing things?” A chill ran down his spine yet again. Since entering this otherworldly place, he’d lost count of how many times terror had washed over him. In less than a day, he’d survived several brushes with death, and his nerves were numbed.

“Moo…”

Shen Lie was still pressed against the door he’d just slammed shut, paralyzed with indecision, when a deep bellow came from outside. The sound was strange, yet filled with majesty and dominance, making the entire hall tremble.

The shout startled him so much he nearly collapsed. He had no time to think about the worm or the heads—he scrambled headlong down the stone staircase leading below.

…

Outside the hall.

The white worm had not simply lost its appetite for Shen Lie. Just as it was about to swallow him whole, a gigantic, illusory image appeared above the hall. The image radiated such a powerful sense of danger that the worm was forced to abandon its prey and focus entirely on this apparition.

“Moo…” The apparition was that of a colossal bull’s head, indistinct yet exuding boundless authority. Its enormous eyes gazed down on the white worm with undisguised contempt and scorn, issuing a warning bellow.

The worm circled in the air, as if wanting to force its way into the hall, but it could not muster the courage to challenge the bull’s phantom. Something deep within told it this bull was dangerous, and it felt a suppression at the level of its very existence, stifling any thought of resistance.

“Hiss, hiss…” The white worm hovered for a long time, but in the end dared not cross the threshold. After several plaintive screeches, it flew away resentfully, circled the space, and finally retreated through the black rift.

Once the worm’s body had fully disappeared, the bull’s phantom slowly began to dissipate as well. Yet even as it faded, its gaze remained fixed on the golden hall below, its eyes filled with emotions almost human: sorrow, fear, anticipation, and a fierce, helpless confusion. At last, all of it dissolved into a wisp of smoke and vanished from this world…

Shen Lie stumbled and tumbled down the stone stairs, rolling whenever he fell, then scrambling up to run again.

The staircase was long. He felt as though he’d been running for a century and still hadn’t reached the end. The further he went, the narrower the steps became, and the damper the stone walls grew, so he spent more time tumbling than running upright.

Finally, after his eyes had swollen nearly shut, his head slammed into something hard and his downward plunge came to an abrupt halt.

Dazed for a long moment, he opened his eyes to see pale yellow gems embedded in the stone walls on either side, each as large as a fist, lighting the space brightly.

“One of these could buy me a luxury duplex in a top-tier city!” Shen Lie was surprised to realize his first thought was the value of the gems. Then he began to examine his surroundings.

Bathed in the gems’ radiance, he took in the entire area. It seemed to be a corridor, with the staircase he’d descended at one end, and the other shrouded in shadow, too far to see clearly.

But he did not rush forward, for he noticed stone doors set at intervals along both sides of the passage. Excitement welled up in his heart—weren’t the heroes in novels always stumbling into miraculous encounters in life-and-death moments? A strange space, a golden palace, mysterious underground stairs, and now these stone doors—everything fit the pattern of a fateful opportunity. Might these doors conceal peerless skills, legendary weapons, or elixirs of immortality? The thought was exhilarating!

He rubbed his bruised, battered limbs, swallowed hard despite his parched throat, and, temporarily ignoring his hunger and pain, his eyes gleaming, he pushed open the first stone door on the left.