Chapter 75: Energy Drain—He’s Infected (Second Update)

Bian Changxi decisively drew her pistol and fired into the sky. The thunderous bangs startled the flock of mutant birds into chaos.

On the crude fortifications in front of the new district, the soldiers who, just two minutes ago, had been swarming Bian Changxi with sheer numbers and bravado, now ducked behind walls and trees, or peeked out from behind tables to fire into the air. Some sharp-eyed ones even aimed directly at the center of the bird swarm. The flock scattered, taking to the sky and circling warily, as if trying to figure out what had caused the deafening noise, whether it was dangerous, and how best to attack such a large group of prey.

Some of the birds, desperate to escape the hail of bullets, darted forward and caught up with a jeep, pecking madly at its windows. The jeep immediately swerved out of control, its front wheels skidding into a slant and crashing into a utility pole, before careening helplessly into a roadside ditch.

Bian Changxi’s eye twitched. Although she wanted to laugh and curse “serves you right,” she was actually quite worried about Qu Nan—he still needed to help her get the surveillance footage.

Suddenly, a chill ran through her heart. She jerked her head up to look at the sky.

Among the flock of mutant birds, each as long as an adult’s arm, the lead bird stood out. It was even larger, its body shaped like a perfect spindle, feathers gleaming like forged steel, and its yellow-red beak clamped around a chunk of human flesh. Its blood-red, razor-sharp eyes locked onto Bian Changxi, as if it knew she was the strongest, most difficult, and most delicious prey among the food below.

It tossed aside the meat in its mouth, which was immediately snatched up by the surrounding birds. Then, with a powerful beat of its wings, it stirred up a fierce gust and dove straight at Bian Changxi—much faster and more aggressive than when it had attacked the man earlier, its black body streaking through the air like a shooting star.

Bian Changxi’s pupils shrank. At such speed, dodging was impossible. She quickly raised her right hand and fired repeatedly, while her left hand flung four wooden spikes. Two thick vines shot out in front of her, instantly weaving into a barrier, as she grabbed her backpack to shield her face.

Even in the emergency, her aim was true. The lead bird was forced to veer off course, its speed dropping just a fraction. The four wooden spikes seemed to anticipate its movement, grazing its body and scraping off several tough feathers. The friction was so intense that sparks flashed along the spikes, and thin wisps of gray smoke rose from the bird’s body—it was slowed again.

The lead bird let out a piercing screech, beating its wings furiously as it crashed through the vine barrier and slammed into Bian Changxi’s backpack, right in front of her face. She grunted as she was shoved backward, sliding over a meter along the ground before hitting a wall. She scrambled to her feet, her mind reeling, a metallic taste rising in her throat.

Such strength—this bird was at least Tier 2.

If not for the three layers of defense and the axe she’d stashed in her backpack as a shield, she’d probably have been gutted on the spot.

What a vicious creature.

She tossed aside her backpack and gripped her pistol. The bird, having rammed into the axe, wasn’t doing much better—it lay stunned on the ground even longer than Bian Changxi before finally flapping its wings to take off. Bian Changxi fired at it as it fled—one shot grazed its chest and belly, another hit the tip of its wing, sending feathers flying. The lead bird staggered, letting out a few angry cries.

Strike while it’s down!

Bian Changxi sent out two more vines—one spiraling up toward the bird’s head, the other lashing around its legs and yanking downward.

The lead bird shrieked and struggled desperately, its wings snapping open with a bang. The vines snapped apart in segments, one piece striking Bian Changxi’s eye as she shielded her face with her arm, knocking her off balance.

She scrambled up, wiping her right eye—her hand came away bloody. Her right field of vision was a blur of red, her eye burning fiercely.

She panicked, quickly grabbing a crystal core and pressing it to her eye as she stood up, searching for the lead bird.

It hadn’t flown away. Instead, it hovered awkwardly in the air, struggling to free its legs from the vine. Its claws, far weaker than its wings, couldn’t break free, so it flew lopsidedly, screeching shrilly. Suddenly, it dipped its head, its blood-red eyes locking onto Bian Changxi with a look of challenge or fury, circling above her menacingly.

Bian Changxi, now seeing only with her left eye, blinked several times to focus. She saw blood streaming from the base of the bird’s beak, its tip cracked and deformed from the impact. Its chest, belly, and wings were all bloody.

With its legs bound, even its flight was stiff and awkward.

It was all bluster.

She glanced around—the area was a complete mess, everyone too busy to help anyone else. She knew she couldn’t fire her gun anymore, so she decisively switched to her knife, waving it at the bird. “Come on, you damn bird! Come down here!”

The lead bird screeched viciously, then suddenly swooped at her from behind.

But Bian Changxi reacted like a spring, spinning around even faster than the bird could dive. Her blade swept out, slicing a gash in the bird’s belly and sending feathers fluttering down.

The bird was furious.

By now, the soldiers were firing en masse at the flock. Troops and warrior squads from the new district were rushing over. Sensing danger, the lead bird cocked its head anxiously, flapping its wings and curling its sharp claws, glaring at Bian Changxi for a moment before flying higher, directly above her.

Bian Changxi didn’t know what it was up to and looked up, nearly blinded by the sun. Suddenly, a black shadow dropped toward her. She swung her knife, feeling something splatter warmly onto her face.

Startled, she glanced at her blade—and her face darkened. Stuck to her knife was a glob of wet bird droppings.

“Caw caw caw!” The lead bird seemed very pleased with itself, soaring high and letting out a long cry. The flock followed, quickly regrouping into a menacing vortex in the sky before speeding away, vanishing into the horizon like a black cloud.

Bian Changxi glared after the lead bird, wiped her face in disgust, and tossed her knife aside. What kind of bird was this? If it couldn’t win, it resorted to dirty tricks!

The army and warrior squads finally arrived to clean up the aftermath. The area was a scene of devastation, bodies everywhere. Someone stepped in front of the harsh sunlight. “Miss Bian, are you alright?”

Bian Changxi looked up—it was Wu Dalang.

Thank goodness she’d wiped off the bird poop. She blinked, checked herself, and shook her head. “I’m fine, just a scratch.”

Blood had just run into her eye. She bent down to look for her backpack, wanting to rinse her eye.

Wu Dalang picked it up for her before she could, and she thanked him. Someone called for him, and he hurried off.

Bian Changxi hid in the shade to rinse the blood from her eye, pressing a clean towel to it. There was still an uncomfortable foreign body sensation, but it could have been worse—if the vine had stabbed directly into her eye, at her current level, she’d have lost it for sure.

She put on her hat and looked around. Not too many people had died, but some had been gutted, their insides eaten clean. The birds seemed to have attacked with intent—those they didn’t target as prey were only lightly pecked, but even so, their beaks were vicious, leaving people riddled with bloody holes and torn flesh, their screams echoing miserably.

Suddenly remembering something, she walked toward the military jeep. Several soldiers were dragging people out. She took a look and couldn’t help but laugh—everyone was battered and bruised, especially the driver and Qu Nan, who, lacking abilities, were even worse off. Qu Nan’s leg seemed injured, and an experienced-looking soldier was checking him over.

“Qu Shao, are you alright?”

Qu Nan leaned against a tree, face pale, grimacing. “Sorry, I didn’t react in time. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have run like that.”

Bian Changxi nodded. “I didn’t react either.” That Agang had yanked her arm, and it still ached.

She looked at Agang, who was wedged in the back seat, stuck fast, as soldiers struggled to pull him out.

A flash of anger appeared in Qu Nan’s eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll see he’s disciplined. Ever since people got powers, some have gotten too cocky.”

Deserting in battle was never acceptable for a soldier. Qu Nan wasn’t military—he was a respected and well-liked businessman—but Agang and the others had military ranks, and their actions today warranted serious punishment.

Bian Changxi nodded. “Let me take a look at you. See, this is when you need my healing.”

The incident quickly drew the attention of the leadership. Bian Changxi was called in for questioning again, but her account matched everyone else’s, so she was soon released and sent to treat the wounded.

Meanwhile, preparations for evacuation in the new district grew even more frantic. All survivors, unless on duty, were forbidden to leave the area. The entire district was under lockdown, with defenses multiplied several times over.

Bian Changxi finished treating the wounded—only the most severely injured were treated by her, to conserve her energy. She checked on the burn victims from yesterday—another had died, leaving just one survivor.

She touched the now-healed, scabbed wound at the corner of her eye, and was about to find a chair to rest.

“How’s my brother?” Liu Meng suddenly appeared, his face grim and looking years older in a single day.

Bian Changxi glanced at the badge on his chest, sewn overnight by women and students hired by the management team in exchange for a few biscuits. The metal plate was cut into a circle, polished smooth, wrapped in special fabric, pinned with fine steel wire, and painted with a machete—the symbol of the warrior squad."