Chapter 87: The Human-Faced Beetle

In the factory, countless undead had gathered together, drifting aimlessly through every corner.

Yet unlike before, when each bore a different face and emotion, the workers now wore the same expression.

Their bodies stank, their eyes were murky white, their faces rotten and distorted. The black hair of some female undead was tangled together, and from the empty grounds came the occasional shrill cry.

They, too, had once possessed dreams, once regarded this factory as a stepping-stone in life. When they had accumulated enough experience and wealth, they would leave this place, go to a new city, and begin a new journey.

None of them could have imagined that this very factory would become their common grave. When the apocalypse arrived, a small number underwent strange changes. The rest thought their companions had merely been infected by some unknown toxin and even tended to them carefully at the side. But once the virus had completely corroded the body, those weakened ones instantly transformed into devils from the abyss, reaching their evil claws toward those nearby.

In the end, only a few managed to escape, while the rest, after infection and mutation, became part of the tomb.

They craved fresh flesh and blood more than the thrill of going out after work with a few companions to spend the night in clubs and restaurants.

Some wandering undead occasionally bumped into one another. They bared their mouths, dripping with putrid blood, and roared threats at each other in confusion.

For the undead, every day was repetition and imitation. Like a band of convicts guilty of countless crimes, they lived out a dull and tasteless existence beneath punishment.

The weather in the apocalypse was always changeable. Only minutes ago the sun had still been bright, and now layers of dark clouds had covered the sky.

But the undead clearly did not care, continuing to sway and wander.

Clang.

Creak, creak, creak...

A grating sound rang out around them, and the undead seemed to sense something. Countless ugly faces turned toward one place.

Food.

As the mindless ones, they linked any sound to food. They no longer wandered aimlessly, but began heading toward the source of the noise.

Creak, creak, creak...

The series of noises was especially piercing in the hollow factory, like iron dragged across the ground. Combined with the already oppressive atmosphere, it would make anyone who heard it feel even more ill at ease.

Some undead neared the source of the sound, and in their murky white eyes there appeared a giant broad blade, so massive that it could scarcely still be called a weapon. Such a thing, once forged, would almost seem fit only to be displayed as an ornament.

Splurt.

The undead kept advancing, but after only a few steps, the broad blade was yanked up from the ground and swept horizontally through the air. The bodies of four undead were sliced cleanly open at the waist. The enormous blade could not produce a simple clean cut; the undead bodies were more like they had been smashed apart by a steel plate, the wounds torn into huge, irregular gashes.

Abruptly, a giant stood before the undead, fully two meters tall, its body packed with bulging, stone-hard muscles. It gripped the broad blade in one hand, while great blue veins spread across its skin like centipedes writhing beneath the flesh.

And on its head sat a massive tricorn crown that completely enclosed its features.

Compared with it, the undead were nothing but midgets before a giant. More than that, the moment it appeared, countless negative emotions flooded this lifeless land.

Fear, pain, hatred, rage. It seemed the embodiment of every sin. So much so that when it emerged, the already dim sky turned even gloomier, as if the whole world had been shrouded in absolute darkness.

The undead that had been cut in two did not die. They shrieked, as though protesting against the darkness. Then, in the next instant, their throats convulsed; their mouths were forced wide open, revealing expressions of extreme savagery, as if they were suffering some unbearable agony.

It did not last long. Their bodies ceased moving, and then a beetle as large as a fist crawled out from their mouths.

The beetle straightened itself, a scene horrifying beyond words: beneath its body was actually a human face. It emitted shrieks like stone scraping glass, while the undead beneath it had already become as lifeless as dead wood, the last remnants of life utterly extinguished.

Four undead had bred four human-faced beetles. The beetles crawled swiftly forward and reached the butcher. They used their teeth to bite open the butcher’s body, creating a wound large enough for them to burrow inside.

Then, the shriek vanished the moment they entered the butcher’s flesh. At the same time, crimson flesh buds appeared around the wound, healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The sight was enough to chill one to the bone. Even Fan Li, standing nearby, could not help but frown slightly, as if fear and rejection were already beginning to fail before this scene.

He had earlier been troubled by how the butcher, with its conical crown, was supposed to feed. Only now did he truly understand that, compared with Ellie’s rotating jaws that devoured life, the butcher had its own unique method as well.

An enemy wounded by the giant broad blade would undergo mutation. All of its life energy would transform into a human-faced beetle, and that beetle, carrying abundant vitality, would use its teeth to tear open the butcher’s skin and return energy to it in kind.

Monster.

A strange creature, twisted, beyond ordinary comprehension.

Fan Li had been human from birth, and was long accustomed to human ways. Even though he possessed a monster compendium and had seen all sorts of enemies, when he witnessed the abnormal behavior of these monsters, he still could not help feeling waves of astonishment.

Whether it was Ellie or the butcher, Fan Li suddenly felt somewhat bewildered. It seemed his understanding of these two was not even a tenth complete.

There were no living things around. This time, Fan Li had summoned the more explosive butcher. With it clearing the way ahead, he could be spared many troubles.

However, relying on another to fight always came at a cost. Fan Li had originally thought to follow behind the butcher and pick up some benefits, but now it seemed that idea had ultimately come to nothing. Slaughter points were merely for Fan Li’s own evolution, but for Ellie and the butcher, slaughter points meant food to fill their bellies.

One must know that when Ellie had first been summoned, the music box had been pure pink. Yet after she devoured undead and mutated beings one after another, tiny specks of red had actually appeared upon it.

Undead, mutated beings, monsters.

Fan Li seemed to have found some crucial thread. Above monsters, was there perhaps an even stronger existence? And did those scattered blood-red specks that appeared with each act of devouring also signify steadily increasing power?

As a monster breeder, Fan Li discovered that he still had a very long road ahead of him.