The civilians in the seaside plaza had already been evacuated. The police station sealed off the Aphid City coastline with a cordon, not allowing unrelated personnel to enter the danger zone.
On the empty beach, only Lu Yan stood in the center. A storm wrapped in dark clouds approached from the distant horizon. Schools of skeletal orcas leapt and howled on the sea surface, their eerie calls pressing closer, an overwhelming pressure descending and forcing Lu Yan back two steps.
Ahead of him were two A3-level experimental entities. The suffocating pressure made fear rise in his chest. Lu Yan glanced back; not far beyond the cordon behind him were medical rescue vehicles from the Medical Association. Doctors were rushing to treat the wounded, transferring less critical patients onto ambulances bound for nearby hospitals.
Police and firefighters were still rescuing trapped civilians from collapsed ruins. The cries for help and barking of police dogs rose and fell behind him.
Lu Yan turned back and did not dare retreat again. He temporarily retracted the rabbit entities split across the four-dimensional timeline to conserve gland energy.
Biting his lip, he reloaded his assault rifle. Suddenly, his earpiece connected.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Bi Lanxing’s voice gave him the greatest sense of security. It felt as if the emptiness behind him was no longer there—as if someone was standing beside him.
“Are those two A3s?” Lu Yan scanned the surroundings. The seaside plaza, designed to provide citizens with an open recreational space, had almost no obstacles. He had nowhere to take cover.
Bi Lanxing replied: “Yes. The white-haired, blue-eyed, white-tailed merman is A3-level mature-phase full-variant experimental body 8107, ‘Envoy of Death.’ The other is A3-level deterioration-phase experimental body 200, ‘Pandora—Immortal Undead.’”
“……”
Lu Yan gave a bitter smile.
Bi Lanxing continued: “Reinforcements are on the way. The PBB special forces deployed by the military are still clearing undead summoning entities appearing across the city. Ah Yan, you need to hold them off for at least twenty minutes. That’s the only way the civilians have a chance to survive.”
“…Alright.” Lu Yan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his gaze was firm. “The coastline is too empty, Lanxing. Give me cover.”
Beside the rescue vehicles, Han Xingqian was still treating the wounded while observing the coastline. When he and Xiao Xun were receiving the fleet from the Shark Division, they had witnessed the destructive power of the Immortal Undead controlling Zhenzhu. With Lu Yan alone—just a seventeen-year-old M2-level lop-eared rabbit—there was no way he could withstand them.
He sent a voice message to Xiao Xun: “Bring the med kit and anesthetic gun over here.”
Just after sending it, his communicator rang.
Bi Lanxing: “His position is at the television tower, 860 meters from the shoreline. The anesthetic gun’s range is insufficient. Leave it for now.”
Han Xingqian was slightly surprised: “Are you monitoring me? What about Lu Yan?”
Bi Lanxing: “I’m watching everyone, Brother Han.”
Han Xingqian looked toward Lu Yan standing on the beach—and saw the sand beneath him trembling slightly. Something hidden was moving through the ground, slowly crawling toward Lu Yan’s direction.
“Be careful. What is that?”
“It’s my seeds, Brother Han.”
Soon, the skeletal orcas had reached the shore. Their massive bone structures wailed as they stranded themselves on the beach.
The Immortal Undead jumped down from the orca’s skull, hovering in midair. Zhenzhu slid down along the white bones of the orca and landed on shore as well. His fishtail transformed into legs, and he stood on the sand.
Soft, warm sand surged up between his toes, and white waves washed in, carrying grains away slowly from the soles of his feet. That sensation left Zhenzhu feeling a wave of dizziness.
He turned slightly and looked at the orca skeleton stranded on the beach. Almost unconsciously, he raised a hand and touched its bones. The orca twisted in pain, trying to avoid his touch. In its hollow eye sockets—if eyes had still remained—they would surely have been filled with pain and disgust.
The orca lifted its head toward the sky and wailed mournfully, finally ceasing its struggle as it died on the shore.
Zhenzhu felt an inexplicable stab in his chest. He pressed a hand against it and looked up. At once, he saw the Lan Bo statue standing in the center of the plaza—a ten-meter-tall merfolk statue, solemn and sacred. In its right hand it held a trident symbolizing the noble authority of the sea god. Beneath the fishtail, a wishing pool had been constructed, its waters connected to the sea itself.
Zhenzhu unconsciously touched the pink scales on the outside of his thigh. He, too, possessed siren scales; he, too, held the authority to rule the ocean. Yet he had never once failed to feel the gulf between them. The other’s divine aura, his calmness and universal compassion, always made him feel utterly out of place.
As time passed, Zhenzhu grew increasingly uneasy. His connection with the Immortal Undead had become weaker day by day, and even during killing and destruction, he found himself hesitating more often. Every day, it felt as if he could hear Lan Bo’s low, sorrowful voice asking in his mind:
“Is this what you think is right?”
“Hey, big water bubble. Go smash that statue. It’s so big it’s annoying just to look at.” The Immortal Undead did not notice Zhenzhu’s emotional disturbance. His attention was entirely fixed on the small rabbit standing upright, facing them head-on.
Lu Yan held his Uzi in both hands, the stock braced against the hollows beneath his shoulders. He wasn’t even wearing combat gear—only a black short-sleeved shirt with a cartoon carrot print and white athletic shorts. His small fluffy tail stuck out through the shorts. With his back to the fully extended warning line behind him, he alone blocked them outside the city.
Armed officers tried to cross the cordon to provide support, but Lu Yan shouted them back over his shoulder. They hesitated, then slowly retreated.
“How dare you stand there?” The Immortal Undead drifted forward, swaying in midair. He inhaled the honey-like scent of Lu Yan’s pheromones. This little rabbit was at most M2-level—yet he had the courage to stand in front of him.
“Hehe, I’ll give you a quick death.”
Laughing sharply, the undead dove downward. In an instant, he passed through Lu Yan’s body and brushed past him. A few seconds later, time seemed to stall. Lu Yan’s throat burst with blood as he slowly collapsed.
“So weak. So weak.” The undead mocked him and drifted toward the warning line.
But just as he moved forward, a chill flashed across his neck. A dagger blade swept behind his gland. He narrowly dodged and turned—only to meet Lu Yan’s focused gaze.
The rabbit corpse that had just been slit and killed vanished into nothingness. Lu Yan leapt into the air and disappeared in an instant. The undead tracked his scent, then suddenly grabbed at him, clenching tightly around his throat.
While the rabbit in his grasp struggled violently, another cold flash of a dagger appeared behind his neck again. A second Lu Yan appeared behind him. The unexpected strike left a deep gash directly on his gland.
After landing the hit, Lu Yan immediately distanced himself and fired his submachine gun while retreating, landing ten meters away on the beach.
Only then did the Immortal Undead realize the rabbit possessed a splitting ability. Killing a clone did not harm the real Lu Yan at all, and he could not tell which one was the true body.
Even so, the gap between an M2 human and an A3 deterioration-phase experimental entity was an insurmountable chasm—one that no technique could bridge.
“You’re asking for death.” The undead, enraged, slammed down onto the ground. A Pandora Mirror immediately spread beneath him, covering the entire circular stretch of beach centered on his position.
Lu Yan could only activate his companion ability—supersonic acceleration—to sprint, avoiding the ghostly hands reaching up from the mirror surface. If caught, he would likely be dragged into an endless abyss from which there would be no return.
The mirror stretched endlessly. There were no rocks, no cover at all. In this barren openness, Lu Yan was completely at a crushing disadvantage.
“Not tired yet? Let’s see how long you can keep this up. Let’s play a game. Hehe. As long as you don’t die, I won’t cross the warning line and will spare those people. How about that?” the Immortal Undead said, smiling as he floated behind him.
While running, Lu Yan shouted back, “Deal! I trust your word!”
Suddenly, he slid low across the ground. At that moment, something hidden deep underground erupted violently. Thick, dark vines burst upward, shattering the mirror surface. Thorned branches extended from their main stems, rapidly wrapping and growing beneath Lu Yan’s feet.
The beach was instantly overtaken by black vines, as if a desert had been replaced by an ancient forest. Dense black thorns intertwined, forming cover and hiding places for Lu Yan.
Bi Lanxing’s plant-controlling ability could be activated remotely. Wherever there were seeds, he could force them to grow into a forest of blades. Seabirds along the coast had swallowed seeds and carried them here, depositing them through excretion, becoming the medium for Bi Lanxing’s control.
In less than a minute, the flat beach transformed into a primordial jungle. Lu Yan’s figure flickered within it, concealed among the thickets, and the Immortal Undead could no longer pinpoint his exact location.
But a few vines were not enough to stop him. He touched them, and the black vegetation immediately turned gray and brittle, dissolving into mist. He passed through them freely, searching for the rabbit’s position.
Time passed. The undead gradually lost patience, crashing through the dense vine forest.
“I’m done playing.” He stopped, expression darkening, and slowly descended. Gray-white mist rose from his body.
The Pandora Mirror spread once more beneath his feet. Ghostly hands climbed along the vines, tearing and dragging everything downward, devouring the forest inch by inch.
The vines collapsed. Lu Yan’s hiding space shrank. He was forced out from between the gaps. The undead locked onto his position and broke through layers of vegetation, flying straight toward him.
As he flew, an unusual bud appeared at the edge of his vision—growing out from a fork in the vines. The Immortal Undead swept his gaze across the surroundings, and more and more of these buds began to appear. In an instant, they bloomed.
Lu Yan leapt out from the center of every crimson flower. From each poisonous tree blossom, a rabbit holding two guns burst forth. Every clone was connected behind it by a hollow plant tube that extended back into the main vine stem—like umbilical cords—continuously feeding energy from the source into each rabbit body.
From afar, Han Xingqian, who was nervously observing the battlefield, was the first to notice the anomaly.
“A symbiotic relationship? He actually managed to hold off the Immortal Undead for this long.”
In Dr. Zhong’s paper, “Research on Association, Fusion, Symbiosis, and Command Relationships Between Glands,” it was stated that as long as glands form one of these four relationships, it becomes possible to achieve an effect greater than one plus one. The resulting combat effectiveness far exceeds that of ordinary cooperation between two individuals.
Bi Lanxing and Lu Yan’s glands had high compatibility and species-related affinity. With age and maturation, their glands had developed into a rare symbiotic relationship.
Lu Yan’s M2 ability, Fourth-Dimensional Split, could pull versions of himself from the timeline into three-dimensional reality. The more clones he pulled out, the faster his energy would be consumed. But at this moment, the rabbit bodies were no longer relying solely on Lu Yan’s own energy—vines were supplying them as well. Sixty rabbit entities now possessed identical strength, equivalent to sixty highly synchronized M2-level operatives attacking simultaneously.
Faced with dozens of identical rabbits—same appearance, same aura, impossible to distinguish—the Immortal Undead froze for a moment.
He had been surrounded.
Sixty Lu Yans opened fire at the same time. The flashes of submachine guns erupted like a starburst, and the dense, continuous gunfire sounded like an entire assault unit.
The Undead met them head-on, laughter echoing through the sky.
“I really didn’t expect you to survive this long in front of me. Rabbits these days are quite impressive.”
Inside IOA Headquarters’ Investigation Division office, Bi Lanxing sat in front of his computer, watching the entire battlefield with tense focus. His eyes did not leave the twenty-four split drone feeds on the screen.
The PBB Storm Special Forces were advancing from North District Six toward the seaside plaza. At best, they would arrive in five minutes.
Holding out for fifteen minutes against a deterioration-phase experimental entity alone was already the limit of an M2 human.
Bi Lanxing stared at Lu Yan through the screen. The number of rabbit entities was rapidly decreasing, and new wounds were accumulating across Lu Yan’s body.
Several times, he almost stood up and rushed to the battlefield himself—but reason pulled him back down. He understood clearly that only by staying here could he find any possible way to reverse the situation.
“Ah Yan, he’s starting to lose control. Time your opportunity carefully.”
Lu Yan’s speed had already slowed significantly. His stamina was nearly exhausted.
The Immortal Undead killed the last rabbit entity, seized the tactical dagger from its hand, and charged toward Lu Yan’s true body. In that instant, a black void suddenly appeared at Lu Yan’s position. He jumped into it.
The Undead, eyes filled with killing intent, followed immediately, driving the dagger into the void as well.
But from another “Rabbit’s Burrow” black hole, Lu Yan emerged behind the Undead. At the same time, the dagger hand that had followed through the first void extended out from behind him—cutting across Lu Yan’s waist while simultaneously stabbing deep into the Undead’s own gland.
The heavily injured Undead let out a piercing howl, flying wildly into the air.
“Good… so you were waiting for reinforcements…? I’ll make sure none of them can come. Little slippery rabbit, I’ll grind you to death myself.”
A humming resonance spread from his body, the eerie sound of a death summons echoing across the entire city.
In front of the computer, Bi Lanxing frowned. On the twenty-four drone feeds, massive changes erupted across the city: a gray-white giant python coiling around a skyscraper, a colossal lizard crawling out beneath a highway bridge, and swarms of gray-white hornets pouring from between buildings. The number of summoned undead entities surged dramatically.
Both the advancing PBB special forces and IOA operatives were forcibly stalled, unable to proceed toward the seaside plaza.
“Fengyue, Leopard Woman—new undead entities have appeared in New District 2. Protect the hospital.”
Bi Lanxing issued deployment orders one by one while keeping most of his attention locked onto Lu Yan.
Lu Yan, having taken a deep cut across his lower back, crashed to the ground and could no longer get up.
Bi Lanxing watched him through the screen, cold sweat forming on his forehead, his throat tightening repeatedly.
“Ah Yan, get up.”
Vines crept to Lu Yan’s cheek, their curled sprouts gently nudging his face.
“Ah Yan, wake up. Get up.”
“Ah Yan… it’s enough. You’ve already done well.”
Lu Yan lay on the ground. Blood soaked his clothes and dripped into the sand beneath him, clumping it together. Blood from his forehead wound seeped into his eyes, turning his vision entirely crimson.
The vines wrapped around him and tried to lift him, dragging him toward the warning line.
Ten meters before the cordon, Lu Yan’s fingers twitched. He clawed at the sand, slowly forcing himself upward. With his other hand, he shakily raised his gun, aiming at the Immortal Undead through blurred vision.
“As long as your dad… I… can still move… I won’t let you… pass…”
The Immortal Undead laughed and drifted closer.
“You’re swearing. Bad student.”
At that moment, Bi Lanxing suddenly spoke through the communicator.
“Position reached—Xiao Xun!”
As the words fell, a sniper round tore through the air like lightning, striking the Immortal Undead’s neck. A red square reticle appeared on his wound—Xiao Xun’s M2 ability, Hunting Lock, had marked him.
Han Xingqian, waiting beside the rescue vehicle, finally seized the opportunity. He hurled a syringe gun from the medical kit toward the Undead.
Targets hit by Xiao Xun’s shot would be locked, their position shared with allies, and all nearby teammates’ shots would be corrected by a universal targeting system, greatly increasing hit probability.
The thrown syringe gun followed a corrected trajectory, curving through an impossible arc, and struck the Immortal Undead’s gland directly—injecting the full dose of medication into it.
“Wh-what is this?!” The Immortal Undead finally realized he had been too close and had fallen into their trap. His expression changed sharply as he yanked the injector off the gland and turned, flying upward. Looking back toward Zhenzhu, who stood dazed beneath the Lan Bo statue, he shouted, “Come back!”
Lu Yan struggled to lift his chin. Out on the horizon, a warship seemed to have appeared. His vision was blurred—he could not make it out clearly no matter how hard he tried.
Vines wrapped around his body in protective layers. Thin tendrils coiled around his waist, sealing his wounds to stop the bleeding, releasing a mild toxin to ease his pain.
“Ah Yan, reinforcements have arrived. You can lie down a little longer.”
From the distant warship, a signal flare was fired. The PBB “Furious Shark” naval marine unit had arrived ahead of schedule. Dozens of medium-sized fast boats were lowered from the deck, and elite soldiers from the Furious Shark special forces rode the waves toward shore, fully armed.
But what came was not only the Furious Shark unit.
An eagle shadow circled in the sky. Xiaochouyu hung from the arm of experimental subject Hak, a red-tailed buzzard-type entity. When Hak flew low along the ground, he released his grip and dropped to land, cutting between Lu Yan and the Immortal Undead. He opened fire with dual rifles, forcing the Undead away from Lu Yan.
“Joint explosion!” Tan Qing and Tan Yang landed first. Their hands interlocked; hydrogen and oxygen fused and detonated in a linked chain of explosions, igniting the air itself and blasting toward the Immortal Undead, forcing him upward into the sky.
Ying rode atop a massive elephant-type experimental subject as it waded across the sea. On the shore, two circular burrows appeared in the sand as two hamster-type experimental subjects dug up from below. The rabbit-eared and Siamese omega figures emerged from the tunnels, each holding assault rifles.
Lu Yan suddenly felt his body lighten. A pair of icy hands lifted him up. When he opened his eyes, he saw a face wrapped entirely in white spider silk, like a mummy.
Jinlüchong carried Lu Yan backward to safety. At the same time, he raised an AK-74 equipped with a “Silk Explosion” magazine and fired at the Immortal Undead. The Undead drifted through the air to evade, but one bullet still struck his thigh. The wound refused to heal.
The PBB Marine Corps landed. Under the command of Captain Whale Shark, they formed a perimeter along the coastline. Meanwhile, students wearing Aphid Island training uniforms poured ashore, sprinting forward. They lined up along the edge of the warning line, weapons in hand, turning their backs to the city and shielding the police and rescue doctors behind them.
Ying shouted into the communicator, “HQ orders: hold the coastline. Protect civilians and ensure medical evacuation!”
One after another, “Received!” rang out from the students stationed along the cordon.
Using his rifle as support, Lu Yan forced himself to stand. He stood together with his former classmates, wiping blood from his face and lips. He grabbed the broken yellow warning tape and wrapped it around his waist, raising his head with gritted teeth.
Dark storm clouds tearing across the sky split open like a wound. Golden honey-colored light spilled down onto Lu Yan’s upturned face, sunlight shimmering in his eyes.
“You won’t get through…”
The Immortal Undead, battered by winds kicked up by a dandelion-type experimental subject, struggled forward. With his deterioration-phase strength and undying body, slaughtering these young cadets should have been effortless.
Jinlüchong stepped forward, placing himself in front of the injured Lu Yan. He raised his hand, pulling Lu Yan behind him. The Undead showed some hesitation toward the AK-74 in his hands—its magazine was unusual: infinite ammunition and capable of causing severe, non-healing damage to experimental entities.
But it still wasn’t a decisive threat. The Immortal Undead did not retreat.
From within the defensive line formed by the students’ bodies, Wuxiang Prowler slowly stepped forward, standing at the very front, facing the Immortal Undead.
“324,” the Undead sneered. “I’ve seen your name on the purge list, but I couldn’t extract your soul. So you’re still alive. Traitors really are everywhere, hehe.”
Wuxiang Prowler said nothing. He simply walked step by step toward the Undead. As if passing through an invisible mirror, his body transformed into an exact replica of the Immortal Undead—except for a coiled chameleon lollipop tail behind him.
He floated into the air. A mirror field spread beneath his feet. Ghostly hands surged from within the mirror, grabbing at the Immortal Undead’s legs and dragging him downward.
Wuxiang Prowler’s M2 ability: Mirror Domain Enhancement. He could copy targets and amplify their abilities—“Ship-Bottom Angel”—boosted by 200%. Duration depended on gland energy.
“Major told me not to let you live,” Wuxiang Prowler said softly, wearing a face identical to the Undead’s gray-white smile.