Chapter 72: Deep into Zone C

After Ye Bai broke through to the entry-level, his speed increased greatly. According to Mo’er’s assessment, his fastest speed now reached about twenty meters per second.

He left behind only a wave of heat in the scorching air, but the Barbaric Tiger Beast chasing behind him was even faster. Each time it nearly caught up, Ye Bai had to draw upon his elemental power to accelerate and widen the gap.

“Mu’er, scan the canyon and identify a fixed location.”

At that moment, a lens appeared before Ye Bai’s right eye, beginning an analysis of the opposite canyon wall. Blue dots appeared one after another in his right eye’s field of vision, analyzing the structure of the cliff face.

After shifting several times, the blue light finally stopped at a protruding spot on the other side—not far from Ye Bai’s position. If he leapt across, he could land on the protrusion and use it to vault to the opposite side.

Ye Bai darted a glance at the position of the Barbaric Tiger Beast, deliberately slowing down to let the distance close. The beast’s massive paws pounded the ground, its spine stretching and contracting like a spring, launching itself forward with each bound. When it landed, it seemed to float, its nose filled with a scent it hadn’t encountered in years. Its eyes reddened with hunger, eager to devour the flesh before it.

With a furious roar, the Barbaric Tiger Beast surged forward, ignoring the wounds Ye Bai had inflicted on its paw; pus sprayed under the strain as it charged.

The canyon’s entrance was close. Ye Bai fired out his laser rope, its position constantly being predicted in his vision. As he fled, he adjusted his path, making sure the claw at the front of the rope would grip the optimal spot.

With a click, the laser rope’s claw seized the opposite cliff. Ye Bai instantly accelerated, taking a huge stride and leaping into the air just before the canyon.

“Retract.” As he soared, Ye Bai began to retract the laser rope, his body being pulled toward the protrusion.

At the same time, the Barbaric Tiger Beast leapt after him, but while Ye Bai was being lifted upward, the beast’s gaping maw could only snap futilely toward Ye Bai’s waist. Gravity claimed the massive creature, and after a few struggles, it plummeted into the gorge.

After a few leaps up the cliff, Ye Bai reached the other side. Peering down, he saw the Barbaric Tiger Beast, uninjured, trying several times to climb out but failing. Its furious roars echoed from the canyon floor.

Ye Bai smiled and activated his smart-brain, sending a message to Cao Xiaoseng: “Where are you and Ling’er? Are you both safe? Send me your coordinates.”

He glanced at the sun; it was nearly afternoon. He had intended to return to District D, but now he found himself farther from it. The sun had shone on his back when he set out; now he walked toward it.

After only a few hundred meters, the mournful howl of the Barbaric Tiger Beast rose from below. The once-dominant beast king had finally met its match—down in the canyon, sunlight would only reach it at noon, making it an excellent refuge. But none of this concerned Ye Bai anymore; whoever won or lost, he was gone.

Soon, his smart-brain received a reply from Cao Xiaoseng, confirming he and Medicine Spirit were safe, inquiring after Ye Bai’s own safety, and sharing their coordinates. They would wait for him nearby.

Ye Bai replied, “All is well,” and instructed Mu’er to generate a route. Glancing at the map, he couldn’t help but twitch his lips. He’d only wanted to lure the Barbaric Tiger Beast away from his friends, but now they were rather far apart. He messaged again: “I’ll rendezvous with you by noon tomorrow at the latest. If I’m not there by then, take Ling’er and find a way out.”

The two parties were now heading in nearly opposite directions. The most direct route would have been to retrace his steps, but the creatures in the canyon were not to be trifled with, and Ye Bai didn’t know if the undying monster had left. He dared not return the same way.

Before setting out, Ye Bai had downloaded detailed maps of Districts D and C into his smart-brain. Each route was selected by Mu’er scanning for the optimal path and updating with real-time information. The route ahead was longer, but avoided the inescapable terrain of the canyon. The further he pressed into the irradiated zone, the flatter the land became, and the fewer buildings remained, drawing ever closer to the epicenter of the ancient explosion.

It was said that the territory of the Aberrant King was within the crater left by the nuclear blast. The radiation at the center was unimaginable—enough to kill an entry-level Star Core Warrior with the energy suspended in the air.

Ye Bai’s protective suit was only rated for use in Districts B, C, and D. Entering District A would cause the suit’s systems to instantly fail under the intense radiation. Even in B, its effectiveness would diminish. The system would be upgraded for better protection in his sophomore year.

Night was falling, and it was time for the aberrants to emerge.

Ye Bai quickened his pace along the route. Perhaps it was the calm before the storm, but as dusk fell, an eerie silence settled over the land. Not even a shadow of an aberrant was visible. Given Ye Bai’s presence—a walking mass of flesh—he should have been irresistible prey.

He tensed every muscle, ready to draw his Jinghong Blade and defend against a surprise attack.

The hard soles of his boots crunched on the parched ground, shattering sunbaked earth. All around him stretched yellow sand, with only Ye Bai walking alone. Occasionally, a faint trail suggested something had burrowed underground, but Ye Bai focused all his attention on the surface. He believed that after his breakthrough, his senses were sharp enough to detect any threat beneath, just as he had sensed the undying monster before.

Anyone familiar with District C would have scoffed at this. Everyone who had entered and survived District C knew that the greatest danger was not aboveground, but below. Surface dwellers were mostly entry-level aberrants; the truly powerful ones, or those with colonies, dominated the underground, hiding from the sun.

A sudden rustling reached his ears. Ye Bai looked around warily but saw nothing, and sensed nothing approaching. Still, he did not relax his guard. The eyes could deceive, senses could mislead, and even auditory cues might not be trustworthy—but every event left traces.

“Mu’er, activate the glasses.” Ye Bai continued forward at a measured pace, and a lens appeared before his right eye.

The display analyzed his surroundings: safe, safe, safe. Yet something was off.

Lowering his head, Ye Bai’s expression abruptly changed.

In that instant, a blackish-brown “serpent” as thick as a barrel emerged behind him, maw agape and filled with serrated black fangs, lunging for his head.

The ground was wrong—it shouldn’t be this loose. After years of wind and sun, even scattered soil should have hardened.

As the glasses flashed streams of analytical data, a fetid stench invaded Ye Bai’s nostrils. He reacted instinctively, drawing Jinghong and slashing overhead while rolling his body away from the spot.

The black-brown “serpent” was struck and hesitated, then tried to burrow back underground. Ye Bai never got a clear look at his attacker, only catching a glimpse and hearing its movement.

He stood and dashed toward where the creature had disappeared, but it was gone, the loose sand already erasing all traces.

This time, Ye Bai did not dare relax. He gripped Jinghong tightly, eyes and smart-glasses monitoring the ground for any sign of danger.

A rustle came from the lower left. He turned—then from the lower right. Back and forth, the rustling sounds shifted, but the creature never reappeared.

Sweat dampened his grip on the Jinghong Blade, which trembled slightly as if to reassure him. This was the first time Ye Bai had encountered a monster playing a psychological game with him.

He wondered what had happened while he was unconscious; the blade seemed almost sentient, as if trying to communicate.

Suddenly, rustling came from both sides—not fleeting this time, but growing louder, closer, about to break through the earth.

“Both sides? Another one? What have I stumbled into?” Ye Bai rolled away, unwilling to dash blindly forward and risk being caught in a pincer attack.

Finally, his mysterious assailant revealed itself. The aberrant worm, mutated by radiation and the post-Apocalypse environment, had grown hundreds of times larger, sprouting venomous fangs. If its body was severed, it would split into two worms. They were colony creatures, omnivorous. Upon encounter, one should either flee immediately or use fire elemental power to evaporate their body moisture. Under no circumstances should they be allowed to split.

“What fresh hell is this!” Ye Bai shouted in frustration. Since entering the irradiated zone, he had faced either undying monsters or ones that nearly killed him—and now there was one that could multiply.

He wasted no time tangling with them, bolting away as two worms, as thick as ancient pythons, spewed mud and chased after him.

It was as if he had disturbed a nest. Soon, rustling sounds filled his ears, aberrant worms bursting from the ground all around.

One suddenly lunged out ahead, spitting mud at him. Ye Bai barely dodged in time, slicing the mud apart with his blade. The mud was corrosive and heavy—if not for his breakthrough, he would have been turned into a clay statue.

Jinghong flared with red light as Ye Bai burst from the mud, cleaving an aberrant worm in two. Without looking back, he ran on, but the bisected worm’s halves writhed and became two, pursuing him anew.

Now Ye Bai no longer conserved his fire elemental power. Whenever a worm blocked his path, he cleaved it in two and kept running, the number of pursuers behind him growing ever greater. In the dim twilight, the ground around him writhed with the black shadows of aberrant worms, all surging in pursuit.