Chapter Twenty: Iron Savage Storm Rat
Squeak!! Squeak squeak!!!
The scent of blood instantly heightened the frenzy among the mutant rats behind, their shrill cries growing sharper. The moment three rats struck by Liang Jing’s steel pellets fell mortally wounded, their companions immediately pounced on the dying bodies, fighting savagely over the blood and flesh. Amidst the agonized screams of the dying rats, chaos erupted as their kin tore into them, a savage scene unfolding.
Ha!
Liang Jing’s eyes lit up at the sight; at last, he had found a way to buy time. If he killed the monsters steadily, one by one, without overdoing it and enraging the swarm, he could buy enough time for Zhang Huke and the others to escape the threat of the rat tide. He hadn’t expected that these red-eyed, deranged mutant rats, though utterly mad, would never attack their own kind while alive—yet when presented with a dying body, they fought over it with such ferocity, even turning on each other. Perhaps this was the raw law of the jungle: no complex human emotions, only survival and more survival; no so-called civilization, only the direct, unadorned urge to feed when hungry.
Again!
Woo! Woo! Woo!
Liang Jing did not run fast, merely keeping a safe distance from the rat tide behind him. At the very crest of this living wave, it seemed just a single surge would overwhelm and drown him, leaving not a bone behind. At the same time, he kept firing forty-millimeter steel pellets behind him with “Violent Throw,” slowing the advance of the rat tide and gradually widening the gap between himself and Zhang Huke’s group. He kept up a steady rate, launching steel pellets with increasing skill and deadly accuracy—almost every shot a headshot. Only now did the golden-level skill “Violent Throw” begin to reveal its true power.
[Violent Throw]: Unleash your full strength to throw a weapon at the enemy, causing massive damage. Beginner Level 11%.
...
[Violent Throw]: Unleash your full strength to throw a weapon at the enemy, causing massive damage. Beginner Level 20%.
As time passed, the sharp whistling of projectiles marked the steady rise of his skill proficiency: Beginner Level 21%... 32%... 37%... 46%... 68%... 84%...
Gradually, Liang Jing noticed some limitations to “Violent Throw.” For example, at the beginner level, the targeting system—a barely visible one-centimeter red dot, like an infrared sight—only worked within a hundred meters. Beyond that range, while “Violent Throw” still functioned, there was no aiming aid; the force of the attack diminished with distance according to the laws of physics, and accuracy was left to the thrower’s judgment. For a novice like Liang Jing, anything beyond a hundred meters was basically guesswork.
Woo! Woo! Woo!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
With each sharp whistle, a resounding thud would follow, like smashing a clay jar. The three mutant rats closest to Liang Jing, each the size of a small dog, convulsed violently as the steel pellets struck, their long snouts shattering with blood and bone flying in all directions. Immediately, chaos broke out among the surrounding rats, and the fallen bodies were torn apart and devoured—even the smallest bones were picked clean, likely gnawed and swallowed by the frenzied swarm.
Time crawled by. The sun reached its zenith and began its slow descent westward. Zhang Huke and the others had fled a great distance, gradually veering away from the flow of the rat horde. The mutant black-backed dog (zombie), dressed awkwardly in human clothes, kept close to them under the sunlight, now powerless to help Liang Jing in the face of the rat tide and better off staying with the others in case of emergency.
Amid the overwhelming, unstoppable surge of the rats and under Ling Qinghe’s bright, watchful gaze, Liang Jing’s movements grew ever steadier. Nearly every shot struck a mutant rat square in the forehead, brains bursting in a bloody spray. He alternated his attacks—sometimes targeting rats a hundred meters away, sometimes those at fifty, sometimes the ones closest—striking a careful balance that prevented the horde from turning its anger on him. He managed their hatred as skillfully as any main tank in a game, no worse than a seasoned pro.
Looking at the sea-like horde behind him—under the scorching sun, the air rippled, evaporating sweat into a strange coolness. Most people, glancing back even once, would be chilled to the marrow, their limbs paralyzed with terror. Liang Jing, resolute and decisive, had been numb with fear at first, but gradually adapted, growing calm and composed, his expression unchanging before this army of monstrosities—like a mountain, deep and unshakable. He couldn’t fathom how so many rats could have mutated in what was merely an industrial district; it was truly horrifying, he thought.
As the proficiency with “Violent Throw” neared mastery, Liang Jing’s features relaxed, his hands striking with ever greater confidence. Each steel pellet found its mark, shattering the skulls of the mutant rats in a burst of crimson fireworks.
Woo! Woo! Woo!
Screee! Scree!
Suddenly, as Liang Jing launched another steel pellet, a cry even sharper and more domineering than the others pierced his ears. The high, piercing wail made his expression grow grave in an instant—he braced himself, thoughts racing:
A boss! Only a creature above the rank of ordinary monsters could possess such presence! Gear up!!
Ling Qinghe had been watching Liang Jing all along. Seeing his face grow tense at that sudden, piercing screech, she too grew nervous. She hadn’t spoken to him before, for fear of distracting him at a critical moment, and now she dared not make a sound.
Liang Jing whipped his head around. Ten meters away, a mutant rat the size of an adult leopard bared its fangs at him, claws slashing the air with savage, bloodthirsty rage. Its fur was pure black, deep and glossy as oil, each strand as tough as steel, bristling like needles. Its limbs were far more robust than those of ordinary mutant rats—brutally thick and powerful, with long, sharp claws gleaming menacingly, making one’s scalp tingle. Its two beady eyes burned with fury, and it was clear Liang Jing’s actions had not escaped its notice.
Liang Jing swiftly used “Basic Insight”:
“Steelbristle Savage Rat: Pink-named rare monster, Level 10, evolved from a rat. Its fur is like steel needles, reducing damage taken. Possesses brute strength and explosive power; its claws and fangs can shatter metal and stone. A vicious and perfect predator, combining defense, strength, and explosive force—a creature of extreme danger.
Innate Skill:
Savage Outburst: Instantly unleashes its potential, greatly increasing speed and strength for a brutal charge or rapid escape.”
A pink-named monster!
A rare creature!
A treasure trove of loot!
Liang Jing’s eyes gleamed—this was a prize indeed. Pink-named rare monsters stood apart from the ranks of white-named common monsters, green-named elites, blue-named bosses, and even gold bosses. Their abilities varied: some were weaker than ordinary monsters, but the strong ones could rival golden bosses. More importantly, their drop rates were high, and they often yielded unique and wondrous items—something Liang Jing craved above all else.
And this was, essentially, the first monster he’d encountered that visibly possessed a skill!
Well, perhaps he was being optimistic. “Basic Insight” was, after all, merely a gray skill dropped by low-level white monsters—barely adequate for dealing with elites, and for blue bosses or above, it could only offer a rough outline with few details.
Screee! Scree!
The Steelbristle Savage Rat now stood upright on its hind legs, its foreclaws slashing the air in rage. It seemed desperate to charge at Liang Jing, but the swarm of mutant rats in front of it made progress slow and difficult.
It was just as they say—not the godlike foe you should fear, but the pig-like ally who gets in your way.
——————————————
Feeling ill today—hoping I can manage to finish writing three chapters...