Chapter 89: Blood Flows, Provoking the Wrath of a Sixth-Tier

This submachine pistol was one of the firearms harvested from the new district’s 4S dealership. It had taken Bian Changxi several days to become fully proficient, from assembly to use.

Normally, this type of pistol was most effective and least tiring when gripped with both hands, but with four enemies attacking from all sides, one gun simply wasn’t enough for defense.

All she could do was aim for a swift, decisive victory.

Bullets poured out like a flood, but the four opponents were indeed well-trained—calm and unhurried as they dodged. Unfortunately for them, they suddenly realized their feet were entangled.

“Ah!”

“No—!”

Their heads burst open like watermelons, or their bodies were shredded like rags. In the blink of an eye, all four were wiped out.

Bian Changxi swung her gun toward the direction from which a golden blade had just been launched at her back. The metal-type man cursed and darted away like a leopard, vanishing from sight. Those chasing behind him weren’t so lucky—several fell in an instant.

Bian Changxi kept running, gun in hand, scanning her surroundings warily. The metal-type man had disappeared!

Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. A figure dropped from the sky, a leg like a club slamming down right where she would have passed. The ground caved in, rocks flying.

She retreated rapidly, firing as she went. Suddenly, an earthen shield materialized out of thin air. All her bullets struck it, leaving only deep craters.

The earth shield quickly expanded and thickened, turning into a wall. The man behind it shouted, pushing the wall forward as he charged.

Bian Changxi only managed two steps back before realizing she couldn’t outrun it. She tossed her gun aside and reflexively braced her left arm against the wall, only to be shoved away.

Her heel scraped across the rocky ground, instantly drawing blood. Luckily, she reacted quickly, adjusting her stance. She sprang back, keeping pace with the advancing wall, then braced her right leg against a mound behind her.

Her leg was taut, her body forming a straight line—the optimal posture for absorbing force. But her shoulders and waist creaked under the pressure.

She was no match for the earth-type man in sheer strength.

He roared again, and the wall shattered with a bang. Dirt and debris flew at Bian Changxi like a storm. She flicked her left hand, sending a vine lashing out to hook a tree behind her, pulling herself away. Landing, she drew her pistol again. Just as she was about to fire, a leg suddenly swept in from the side, kicking up from below and striking her wrist. The gun flew from her grasp, and she staggered away with a cry of pain.

That boot was as hard as iron, its pointed toe slamming into her bone. Bian Changxi felt as if her entire arm had been struck by lightning, the pain so intense she nearly blacked out. Shadows danced before her eyes.

Before she could react, another kick landed on the left side of her chest, sending her tumbling.

She crashed into a patch of gravel. The stabbing pain from the stones was nothing compared to the agony wracking her body. She couldn’t even scream, her mouth open in a silent gasp. After a long moment, she managed to turn stiffly onto her side, curling up.

A leg pressed against her left shoulder, rolling her over. Then it stomped down hard, crushing her already sunken ribs even further. Amid the sickening crunch of breaking bones, she screamed and coughed up a mouthful of blood, gasping for air like an asthmatic.

“Careful, you’ll crush her lungs. Even a wood-type powerhouse might not be able to save herself then,” a mocking voice laughed.

Bian Changxi, drenched in cold sweat, forced her eyes open and barely made out two figures. One stood a bit farther away—it was Ah Gang, the one who had kicked her hand. The one pinning her down…

“So it really is you,” she rasped.

The earth-type man was none other than Liu Meng.

“Tsk tsk, listen to her—she can still talk. As expected of a wood-type.” Liu Meng pressed down harder with his foot, watching with malicious delight as Bian Changxi’s expression twisted in pain. “I heard you’ve been looking for trouble with me these days. Ha! I went underground and kept a low profile, didn’t leave you a single handle to grab. Disappointed?”

He bent down, eyes wide and ferocious. “I ended up like this all because of you. I’ve been wanting to settle the score every single day. Heaven’s finally answered—Gu Xu’s crew is finished, and now you’ve pissed off Qu Shangjin. Know why we’re making such a big move this time? Because he gave the nod! You’re just too stupid!”

Blood kept bubbling from Bian Changxi’s lips, covering half her face. The blood trickled past her eyes, running down her cheeks as if she were weeping tears of blood, making her eyes burn even brighter, as if they might ignite.

With a trembling hand, she grabbed his pant leg.

“Trying to bite me? Let me tell you, you—ah!”

He staggered back, collapsing to the ground, blood gushing from his heel, his entire leg shaking uncontrollably.

His Achilles tendon had been severed. Without it, he couldn’t stand. Furious, he roared, “You… I’ll kill you!” As he raised his hand, a black shadow flashed before his eyes, and one of his eyes vanished instantly. He froze, then let out a blood-curdling scream.

The shadow landed—a brown, rat-like creature. It held an eyeball on its claw, glanced at it in disgust, then flung it away and sprang at Liu Meng again.

The sudden turn stunned Bian Changxi, but she quickly shifted her focus to Ah Gang.

Ah Gang was still staring at the rat in shock when a wave of danger washed over him. Instinctively, he dodged to the side—a bullet grazed his left arm, spraying blood.

Bian Changxi fired again, but the recoil was too much for her battered muscles. Her right arm was useless, and though her left was intact, her shoulder and chest muscles could barely function. Ah Gang, now on guard, was no easy target. She tossed the gun aside, forced herself upright, and, leaning against a tree, sent out a flurry of slender vines.

Some of the vines hid sharp wooden thorns, cunning and vicious.

Ah Gang roared in anger, retaliating with two ice spikes. Bian Changxi bent, and the spikes embedded themselves in the tree trunk.

Enraged, Ah Gang charged despite his wound. Bian Changxi’s eyes flashed; a stream of water splashed over him. He shouted in alarm, “You’re water-type too?!”

I’m electric-type as well!

She produced the stun device she’d swiped from Zhang Yuwen, pressed the button, and the water conducted the current straight to Ah Gang. He convulsed violently, like an epileptic. But as a special forces operative and an ability user, he still had some fight left. Gritting his teeth, he staggered out of the water’s reach, trembling uncontrollably as he stared at Bian Changxi in shock—he hadn’t seen the stun device, so in his eyes, she was terrifying. Without hesitation, he flung a few ice spikes her way and fled.

He’d regret not looking back, because his haphazardly thrown ice spikes, though mostly dodged by Bian Changxi—who was barely standing thanks to the tree—one still struck her in the abdomen, sending her sliding down the trunk.

The sharp ice spike was as deadly as a blade, carrying a bone-chilling cold that instantly froze flesh and organs on contact. She gasped, gripped the spike, and yanked it out.

The wound in her abdomen barely bled, frozen solid and unable to heal.

Bian Changxi wanted to cry from the pain. She bit her lip, stuffed some gauze into the wound, and wrapped her waist tightly with the rest, tying it off with one hand.

Meanwhile, Liu Meng let out a furious roar. Milk, the rat, was clawing, scratching, and biting at his face, refusing to let go no matter what he did. In desperation, he pulled out a stun device and jabbed it at the creature.

Bzzzt—

The sound was piercing and dreadful, but Milk still wouldn’t let go until it gouged out Liu Meng’s other eye. Only then did it fall away.

This time, Milk was burnt to a crisp, barely moving, smoke curling from its body like a cheap lump of coal.

“Milk…” Bian Changxi’s eyes reddened.

Liu Meng went mad, his face and head covered in blood, not a patch of good flesh left—he looked like a faceless demon, smashing dirt clods in a frenzy.

“Ah, th-this…” A group finally caught up. Someone vaguely recognized Liu Meng. “Old Liu?”

“Kill it! Kill it!” Liu Meng howled.

They thought he meant Bian Changxi. The sight of such a slender woman reducing a burly man like Liu Meng to this state shocked and terrified them. They raised their guns at her.

But Bian Changxi saw none of this. She stared at the charred, shrunken Milk—once basketball-sized, now barely as big as two lead balls. Half her bloodied face twisted, her eyes burning red, her teeth grinding out a hoarse curse: “You will all die… all of you, die!”

She gripped a crystal core—the third-tier core!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

From beneath the ground where those men stood, thick, eerily green vines as wide as a grown man’s wrist erupted. Even more terrifying, a red line of light ran through each vine, bathing the area in a bloody glow.

The vines whipped around the men, some so fragile they were instantly squeezed of blood and brain matter, unable even to scream.

Some were cocooned into long, thin shapes, their bodies twisted beyond recognition.

Liu Meng was shredded into pulp by three vines in the blink of an eye.

In her previous life, Bian Changxi had reached the late sixth tier.

The wrath of a sixth-tier—even at only third-tier strength—could turn the ground into a river of blood.

Bian Changxi’s mind suddenly emptied. All sounds faded away, and her vision was swallowed by an endless, ancient darkness.

Yet she could still “see” the spraying blood, the flying flesh. She could feel the wind, the moon’s shadow, the swaying trees, the falling leaves, an ant burrowing in the soil, a dewdrop on a blade of grass. Every plant rooted in the earth—some danced in joy, some wept in sorrow—stretching, shrinking, gathering strength, painfully transforming.

Countless tiny voices slowly rose, merging into a chorus, like yellow fireflies blooming in the deepest darkness. She felt her wood-type energy reaching out, intertwining with those sparks, merging, caressing, then separating, stretching ever farther…"