Chapter 47 Part 1

Chaotic fog enveloped the world tightly, gathering thickly into clusters and surging as if alive.

At midnight in the Small Town, there was utter silence.

It seemed all things had been swallowed by the fog—no chirps of insects or birds, not even the sound of wind.

At that moment, faint, rapid gasps echoed from somewhere within the fog.

Drifting through the silent, damp mist, they carried a hazy layer of moisture, adding an alluring, lascivious charm.

If anyone passed by and heard them, they would think a seductive ghost hid in the fog, irresistibly drawing them to pursue and explore, willingly succumbing to the temptation.

A seductive beauty akin to a ghost did indeed lurk in the fog, but the indescribable Devil sprawled over him completely shrouded him.

Its body was enormous, covered in dense scales, with flesh beneath that flowed blood-red like molten magma.

Its fangs were sharp, and greedy saliva dripped onto the youth below its abdomen.

It was called a Devil, but Monster suited it more accurately.

Its speed matched its terrifying appearance. A quarter of an hour earlier, it had silently snatched the youth positioned to the Players’ side in its jaws, vanishing like a gale without anyone noticing.

The sensation of being held in the Monster’s mouth was utterly awful—his body clamped between jagged fangs and a damp oral cavity, the tooth tips pressing against tender skin, enduring the constant fear of being bitten through at any moment.

Events unfolded too quickly. When Zhong Nian was first seized, he hadn’t even reacted amid the dizziness before being placed on a pile of soft dry grass.

In the pitch-black surroundings, he saw nothing and had no idea where he had been taken. The only clear sight was the Devil’s bloodthirsty red eyes.

He had tried to flee, but the Devil trapping him had eight arms like welded iron bars at his sides, confining him beneath it. Then it buried its head on his body to sniff, emitting low growls from its throat that humans couldn’t comprehend, laced with hunger.

It resembled a beast’s behavior before feeding. Zhong Nian trembled uncontrollably, gasping heavily to oxygenate his brain and calm himself slightly. He quietly groped for the Weapon hidden on his body.

“Hiss—”

The Devil didn’t even dodge. Hot red blood sprayed from the punctured limb, the wound sizzling like it was scorched, rotting and charred.

The Devil that had been nuzzling and rooting over Zhong Nian froze. Then, with a “squish,” its abdomen was stabbed. Finally unable to endure it, it shrieked and rose.

Zhong Nian saw the blood flowing like glowing dark-red magma, the knife wound attempting to heal autonomously yet continually rupturing. He paused slightly, then glanced at the Dagger in his hand, its cold gleam intensified by the blood, understanding dawning.

He knew the Props were no ordinary items, but he hadn’t expected the one from the Masked Man to be this powerful.

Seizing the chance, he swung again at the arm confining him.

But the Devil endured the pain raw, unwilling to give him an escape. It seized the blade barehanded, snatched it away, and tossed it far off.

Zhong Nian’s strength naturally couldn’t compare. Seeing his only useful Weapon gone, despair washed over him like death.

The Devil, tasting pain, seemed even more excited, panting heavily as its fangs tore his clothes.

A barbed tongue licked across his pale belly, scraping the surface skin and drawing beads of blood.

Zhong Nian let out a low whimper, wanting to curl up, but then noticed the Devil on him had stiffened for some reason, its heavy panting abruptly halting.

Before he could figure it out, the halted Devil was suddenly flung away by something, its massive body slamming into the stone wall, shaking the entire Stone Cave with falling dust.

In the dimness, Zhong Nian saw nothing clearly, only hearing the Devil roar as it fiercely entangled and battled that thing.

The Stone Cave shook as if on the verge of collapse, yet not a speck of dust or stone fell on him.

Zhong Nian vaguely sensed something had shielded him. He didn’t freeze; even with legs weak from fear, he forced himself to stand, staggering to retrieve the vital Dagger.

Just as he grasped it, his waist tightened, legs lifted off the ground, body suspended in midair.

Zhong Nian cried out in alarm, touching his waist, then quickly recoiled from the ominous sensation.

Wet, cold, and slick—thoroughly unpleasant. Goosebumps rose all over him.

This thing coiled around him, speeding along. Glancing back, he saw the Devil that had just tormented him lying feebly on the dry grass, oozing magma-like blood. His heart clenched.

Out of the wolf’s den and into the tiger’s lair—the captor was something even more terrifying and powerful.

Outside the Stone Cave, the environment wasn’t as oppressively dark. By faint ambient light, Zhong Nian barely made out his abductor amid the fog.

It was a… Blue-Black Giant Octopus.

Spots on its surface resembled countless eyes. Its dozen tentacles whipped through the air like sturdy, resilient tree roots—the most powerful Weapons, lined underneath with opening-and-closing suckers that could grip prey firmly.