The Mutation of the Giant Monster (1)

“Ow… damn it, that hurts…”

Every bone in her body screamed.

Getting up would hurt more than staying still.

Above her, the circular patch of sky framed by the crater’s edge looked like a tranquil blue sea. A few shape-shifting clouds drifted aimlessly across it—like seaweed swaying in a slow tide.

So beautiful… so peaceful…

Lying in the crater she’d created with her own body, Tidal let herself drift, gazing at the sky.

“Still alive?”

After a while, Rosetta peered down from the rim. Seeing Tidal still breathing, she said:

“You were daydreaming during combat? Guess our training’s not intense enough. I’ll add extra rounds later.”

“Are you some kind of demon?” Tidal shot back weakly, glaring up at her.

“This is how we trained Black Wing and the others. If you want to reach their level quickly, you’ll need to work twice as hard.”

“Hey, Rosetta,” Tidal suddenly interrupted.

“What?”

“I did lose focus just now. Because… I had this bad feeling.”

“A bad feeling?”

“Yeah. I think… something’s wrong in Shangjing.”

“Oh?”

Rosetta reached into her cleavage—rummaging for a moment before pulling out a phone. She swiped through it, then raised an eyebrow.

“Well, well. Are you psychic or something?”

“It’s true?” Tidal sat bolt upright, pain forgotten. “What happened?!”

“Yeah, serious incident. An hour ago, aberration forces attacked FanDou Paradise in the Fifth Ring.”

“What!?”

At the name FanDou Paradise, Tidal’s blood ran cold.

Oh no.

You Xi was supposed to go there today.

Sweat broke out on her forehead.

“No way… it can’t be that coincidental,” Rosetta muttered.

But Tidal was already gone—whoosh—flying toward the car.

She yanked open the door, fished her phone from the seat crevice—and froze.

Missed calls. Dozens of them.

Huang Xing. Raging Flame. The most recent: 12 minutes ago.

Heart pounding, she dialed back.

The ringtone played once—twice—

Then switched to:
“The number you have dialed is currently unreachable.”

“What the hell? Even if they don’t want to answer, why turn it off completely?”

Her mind raced.

“Just… please be safe.”

She whispered the prayer, already gunning the engine, preparing to race back to the city.

“I’m coming too.”

Rosetta appeared beside her.

“That phone call… it was my idea. Feels like I’m partly responsible.”

Meanwhile, high above the battlefield—

Her pocket vibrated insistently.

…Could it be Senior Tidal calling?

Raging Flame reached for her phone—

But before her fingers could close around it, Huang Xing grabbed her arm and yanked her upward, away from the tentacle’s range.

Raging Flame watched in horror as her phone plummeted from dozens of meters up—shattering into pieces on impact.

Huang Xing stared, stunned.

She’d only meant to pull her teammate to safety—she hadn’t meant to destroy the phone.

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Huang Xing stammered, voice tinged with guilt.

She glanced at Raging Flame—only to see her staring blankly at the shattered remains below, face pale with despair.

“I’ll buy you a new one after this,” Huang Xing offered weakly.

“Forget it. You didn’t do it on purpose,” Raging Flame sighed, shaking her head. “Let’s just focus on the enemy.”

They turned back to the battlefield.

A hundred-meter-long tentacle stretched desperately toward them, curling and uncurling in midair—just out of reach.

Its suction cups pulsed rhythmically, squeezing air with grotesque, wet sounds.

If it grabs us… organs, muscles, bones—all crushed into pulp in an instant.

Both girls imagined it—and went pale.

“Our job is just to keep it distracted,” Huang Xing said.

She summoned several magic arrows and fired.

Yellow bolts struck the tentacle, leaving shallow wounds.

Annoyed, the appendage twitched—flinging the arrows aside like gnats.

“This is pointless… How are we supposed to fight this?” Huang Xing groaned, lowering her bow.

“…How are the seniors handling it?”

As if reading each other’s minds, both girls scanned the battlefield.

“Idiot! Come catch me, hahahaha!”

Nikkou danced around the tentacle like a monkey leaping between branches—her red-hot blade flashing as she slashed again and again.

The enemy’s strong, but if it can’t hit me, it doesn’t matter.

Sure, if she got hit… she’d be reduced to a smear on the ground.

But the thought only made her more exhilarated.

Not the boredom of fighting weaklings. Not the crushing despair when facing that blue dwarf.

This—this was what she lived for.

A battle where every move could mean death.

Would she kill it… or die trying?

That uncertainty—the knife-edge suspense—was her ultimate high.

One slash. Two. Three.

She kept dancing on the blade’s edge.

Cuts bloomed across the tentacle’s surface. Blue blood sprayed like a fountain—violent, tragic.

Nikkou surveyed her handiwork with glowing red eyes—then sighed softly.

“What a pity,” she murmured.

After repeated strikes, the massive limb was drenched in its own blood—its skin shredded, barely intact anywhere.

“…If only you had a mouth to scream… how beautiful that would be.”