Chapter Twenty-Four: The Onset of Radical Change (Part One) A Newcomer Earnestly Seeks Your Support

A cold gleam stained with blood flashed through the air, and two mutated mosquitoes were sliced apart, their bodies spraying blood. Compared to the formidable mutated rats and spiders, these weak yet agile flying mosquitoes posed a fiercer threat to everyone. They might not harm the individual, but if not swiftly dispatched, their impact on the group would be substantial. Liang Jing also needed the others' support.

Meanwhile, in the room, the mutated spider that Liang Jing had half-killed with a powerful kick was suddenly beset by surrounding mutated creatures, which attacked and devoured it. Many of the monsters even fought viciously among themselves, their eyes blood-red, clamoring and battling for the remains. Their bloodlust and cruelty seemed to intensify, and Liang Jing’s eyes brightened.

“Hurry—throw all the mutated monster corpses from inside the house into the room!” Liang Jing shouted loudly.

Everyone was delighted to see the monsters inside the room fighting over the corpses. They acted quickly, tossing more bodies inside, marveling at how monsters truly lacked human intelligence. Of course, they had not yet encountered the higher-level variants.

The stench of blood within the house had grown thick and viscous, permeating the entire space.

As time passed, the mutated creatures grew wary and fearful of attacking the main hall. After all, many had died in the prolonged battle; even with their limited intelligence, they felt pain and fear. Now, with “free” food available, most were unwilling to assault the hall.

Once the monster corpses were thrown into the room, the creatures inside paused their attack on the hall. Only a few, driven mad, continued their assault. The room was filled with frantic fighting, scraping, screeching, and conflict. Whether it was the overpowering scent of blood or the heat of battle, the violence escalated into a savage melee.

This was no longer just a matter of fighting over food.

At this point, Liang Jing’s burden eased considerably. The mutated monsters seemed to have lost all reason and were consumed by bloodlust, attacking any creature not of their own kind with merciless fury.

Indeed, mutated mosquitoes would not attack other mosquitoes, nor would rats attack other rats. This seemed instinctual—even in their madness, they would not harm their own species. In this, they were fundamentally different from humans.

Of course, plenty of monsters still targeted the people in the hall, but now, facing only a portion of the horde was far easier than before.

Crack… hiss.

Liang Jing moved his legs, body leaning, and with a surge of power, his blade swept swiftly, cleaving a mutated spider into head-thorax and abdomen. In moments, a cluster of pale spiritual light sank into Liang Jing’s body. Since the battle began, his body had been constantly bathed and nourished by this white radiance, as if he’d returned to the womb, soaking in temperate water—utterly comfortable.

With the intensity of battle, Liang Jing’s muscles consumed vast energy. The pale spiritual light, previously not very effective, now found openings, pouring in to replenish and invigorate him. He glanced at his stats, but still hadn’t reached the physical prowess of ten ordinary men.

It appeared this was a threshold, a shackling limit.

Yet now, Liang Jing felt his body improving rapidly—muscles, bones, skin, even cells deep within him transformed, growing tougher and stronger. It was a kind of reconstruction.

Without the “battle state,” what once required explosive strength could now be achieved effortlessly, even in normal actions—like the difference between a fat man and a muscular one. The untrained fat man might possess great strength, but it must be summoned with effort, risking injury; the well-trained muscular man can exert tremendous power with ease in routine movement.

With each fight, every muscle, bone, nerve, and channel of Liang Jing’s body was soaked and fortified by the pale light. Whenever a gap appeared, the spiritual radiance flooded in, supplementing and cleansing, erasing any fatigue or soreness from strenuous exertion.

Now, Liang Jing felt like a block of iron ore under constant hammering—exerting, replenishing, exerting again, always bathed in the white spiritual light, expelling blackened toxins and waste. It was as if useless residue were being smelted out of the iron, forging him into tempered steel—a process of transformation.

Even the depths of his brain, previously unnoticed, since the absorption of the pure white radiance from the golden Baroque, now drew in the spiritual light deliberately. Fine threads penetrated through layers of unseen mist into the core, where flecks of gray-black light occasionally flashed.

It seemed that, at a certain moment, a metamorphosis would occur and something would emerge.

…

“Why aren’t you dead? Why aren’t you dead yet? How can you still be alive?” The middle-aged security guard’s face was dark and terrifying, his voice sharp, neurotic, and trembling. He was beginning to regret his actions.

It had been a long time. He was restless, waiting to hear Liang Jing’s desperate screams as monsters tore him apart—to savor the thrill of satisfaction.

But after so long, it must be three or four in the morning now. The monsters downstairs wailed and shrieked more terribly than ever, but Liang Jing and his companions sounded calm when they spoke.

He couldn’t wait any longer!

The thought that Liang Jing had survived so long in battle with the mutated monsters made the security guard’s eyes narrow in fear. How powerful was Liang Jing’s fighting ability? His unease grew—if Liang Jing survived, then he, who had committed such wickedness, would surely have no way out. He would be finished.

He glanced at the three other guards beside him, steeling his resolve. He had to add fuel to the fire—if he was going to do this, he would do it thoroughly. A mad look came over his face.

With that, the middle-aged guard stood up abruptly, opened the door, and strode quickly toward the staircase leading to the rooftop.

“Boss Li, where are you going?”

“There are a lot of monsters outside, it’s dangerous…”

“…”

The guard ignored them completely, grabbing a prepared gasoline bottle at the stairway, hurrying to the rooftop where he had already laid out firewood.

Whoosh—

He quickly stepped back, avoiding the flames, watching as the firewood blazed violently under the gasoline, a sinister smile spreading beneath the orange-red flames and black smoke.

The three guards who followed were stunned. What was Boss Li doing?

Did he not see that those who lit fires before were killed and devoured by monsters attracted by the flames? Lighting a fire on the rooftop, visible from afar, would only amplify the effect several times over—this was…

No! Run!

The three remaining guards were now completely terrified, desperate to escape the building—this place was far too dangerous.

The middle-aged guard watched them flee, sneering internally. Did they really think they could escape? There was no way out—even jumping from the second floor wouldn’t help. It was too close to the ground, and outside, monsters awaited—like lambs delivered to wolves.