The Tang knife that had bitten into Grandpa Zhang's "brain" was seized by an invisible force, still pressing downward—but Level 2 [Metal] simply wasn't strong enough.
Qing Ling poured every ounce of strength into it. The blade inched forward, millimeter by millimeter.
Two tentacles whipped around the knife, wrenching it free and flinging it aside. Blood gushed violently from the brain. The wound was horrific, yet the massive gash began to close—albeit noticeably slower than the tentacles regenerated.
It was gravely injured… but it was still alive!
The severed tentacles crawled across the ground, slithering back to the main body. Fresh ones immediately sprouted in their place.
Qing Ling had taken a hard fall. Her face was pale, streaked with blood. She staggered to her feet, still trying to reach her fallen knife. Four tentacles shot out like lightning, wrapping around her wrists and ankles.
She struggled fiercely, but it was futile. The tentacles dragged her inexorably toward the core…
"Die!"
With a furious shout, Gao Yang charged forward, golf club raised high.
He knew—as a total weakling—the only sensible thing was to run as far and as fast as possible. That was the proper self-preservation instinct of trash-tier talent. Yet for some reason, the instant he saw Qing Ling captured, his legs refused to obey. His mind shut down. By the time he came to his senses, he was already rushing in like an idiot.
Before Gao Yang could even get close, a tentacle slithered along the ground and coiled around his calf.
It yanked hard. Gao Yang hit the pavement with a grunt and was immediately dragged toward the monster—faster than Qing Ling. In moments he would join her as food.
"Hold on tight!" Officer Huang rushed in too. He grabbed Gao Yang's wrist with one hand and clamped the other around a nearby streetlamp pole. Thanks to his Gun God talent, his grip strength was monstrous. For a brief moment, he actually stalemated the tentacle's pull.
But Gao Yang felt no relief.
His body was stretched like a rope in a brutal tug-of-war—any second it might tear apart. Worse, more and more tentacles were regenerating and joining the fight. The longer this dragged on, the more hopeless it became.
And most critically—Qing Ling was being pulled irreversibly toward the core.
Calm down. Calm down.
The more desperate the moment, the more he needed to stay calm.
Gao Yang took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
[Entering System]
[You have newly obtained 30 Luck Points]
—Thirty Luck Points?!
[You just survived a highly dangerous six-minute ordeal. Reward multiplier increased to 300×]
—Awaken a new talent! Hurry!
[Awakening a new talent requires 30 Luck Points. Confirm?]
—Confirm!
[Awakening…]
[Awakening…]
[Awakening…]
[Awakening successful]
[Talent: Copy. Sequence Number: 18. Rune Type: Knowledge]
[Level 1 Copy: Can copy any talent with sequence number 30 or higher]
[Copy Method: Touch the target's body for 1 second]
[Copy Limit: 1 type. Storage Duration: 1 hour]
[Activation Time: 3 seconds. Cooldown Between Copies: 12 hours]
[Level 1 Copy Permanent Attribute Bonus: Spirit +30, Charisma -10]
—Jackpot! Finally!
[Congratulations! First new talent awakening successful. Future awakenings will require 60 Luck Points]
[Access ended. System hidden]
[Beep—]
Gao Yang opened his eyes.
One meter away, Qing Ling was sliding along the ground on her side, being dragged inch by inch toward the monster. Her fingers clawed desperately at the pavement, trying to anchor herself, but it was useless.
Gao Yang assessed the situation in an instant and made his decision.
"Officer Huang! Let go of me!"
"You're insane!"
"Let go! I have a way! Trust me!"
Time was ticking down to nothing. Officer Huang had no choice—he released Gao Yang.
The tentacle immediately surged with force. Gao Yang was yanked forward at terrifying speed—faster than Qing Ling. As he passed right beside her, he stretched his right arm out desperately. He had aimed for her head, but their bodies were parallel; he missed by a mere two centimeters.
He strained, extending every millimeter, fingers splayed wide—yet he could only watch helplessly as they slid past her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips, her chin—never quite touching.
Is it over?!
His heart sank.
No! A spark of hope flashed in his eyes.
Half a second later, the tip of Gao Yang's middle finger lightly hooked the swell of Qing Ling's chest.
Even in the midst of her desperate struggle, Qing Ling noticed the strange contact. She wasn't angry—only a faint confusion flickered in her eyes: What is he doing? A last-ditch flail? Or a goodbye before death?
[Unique copyable talent detected: Level 3 Knife God. Copy?]
—Copy!
In an instant, a surge of energy poured through the tip of his middle finger and flooded into his body. The power was profound, almost alive, carrying the vivid imprint and breath of its original owner.
Gao Yang roared, "Pass me the knife!"
Qing Ling didn't understand what he intended, but instinct guided her to the optimal response. She stopped clawing at the ground and focused her mind on her weapon.
The distant Tang knife trembled, then floated into the air and flew straight toward Gao Yang.
He caught it. The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, a rush of familiarity washed over him—as though he had wielded this blade ten thousand times.
Memories, movements, experience, instinct… countless fragments fused into an indescribable force. It felt like a sacred lifeform, or a mysterious heroic spirit, gently enveloping him, guiding him, possessing him, granting him power.
With a deft twist of his right wrist, Gao Yang sliced cleanly through the tentacle around his leg.
He was now less than two meters from the core—the most dangerous spot, and also the most advantageous. His eyes had already locked onto the perfect entry point and the ideal slashing angle.
He shifted sideways, dropped into a half-crouch, and pressed the blade low.
Legs, waist, right arm—aligned in one perfect line.
Draw!
"Schlick—"
The Tang knife sliced upward at a sharp diagonal, carving through the grotesque tumor.
He wasn't finished. The blade whipped back in a fluid return stroke. The two-thirds of the tumor that had just been severed still hung in midair—only to be bisected again.
It all happened in a flash.
Blood sprayed instantly. The howl came half a second later—short, aborted, dissolving into the rain of gore before it could fully form.
Three seconds ended.
The Knife God talent vanished.
At the same moment, the tentacles gripping Qing Ling loosened.
She froze for a split second, then sprang up, dashed forward, snatched the Tang knife from Gao Yang's hand, and unleashed a frenzy of more than a dozen slashes on the corpse—truly dismembering it into pieces, only stopping once she was absolutely certain it could never regenerate.
Under the moonlight, her jet-black hair was soaked scarlet, dripping blood across her cold, pale face and white school uniform.
The girl tilted her head slightly back, chest heaving violently. At her feet lay a chaotic mess of severed limbs and viscera. In this moment, she looked like a fallen slaughter angel descended into hell.
A few seconds later, she slowly turned.
Her gaze toward Gao Yang was icy and razor-sharp.
Whoosh—
In the blink of an eye, the bloodless Tang knife was pressed against Gao Yang's throat.
Qing Ling's voice carried restrained anger: "You'd better explain what just happened."
"I'm sorry!" Gao Yang raised both hands in a panic. "I shouldn't have touched you—"
"Who cares about that?" The flat of the blade twisted slightly against his skin. "Speak. Why do you have Knife God talent? Why have you been hiding your strength all this time?"