The tang dao embedded in Old Man Zhang's "brain" was being forced deeper by an invisible force, but the power of [Metal] at level 2 was simply too limited.
Qing Ling strained with all her might, yet the blade only inched forward bit by bit.
Two tentacles swiftly coiled around the sword, yanking it free and flinging it aside. Blood gushed violently from the monster's brain, the wound horrific—yet despite the damage, the deep gash began to mend, though far slower than the regeneration of the tentacles.
It was gravely wounded... but still alive!
Severed tentacles writhed across the ground, slithering back to the main body, where fresh ones sprouted anew.
Qing Ling had taken a hard fall. Her face was pale, streaked with blood, but she staggered to her feet, determined to retrieve her blade. Four tentacles shot out, ensnaring her limbs.
She struggled futilely as the tendrils dragged her toward the monstrous core...
"Go to hell!"
With a furious shout, Gao Yang charged at Old Man Zhang, golf club raised.
Logically, as the self-proclaimed "useless one," his only job should have been to run—far and fast. That was the essence of being deadweight. Yet for some reason, the moment he saw Qing Ling captured, his legs moved on their own. His brain shut off, and before he knew it, he was rushing in like an idiot.
Before he could get close, a tentacle lashed out, coiling around his calf and yanking him to the ground. He was dragged toward the monster just like Qing Ling, seconds away from becoming its next meal.
"Hold on!" Officer Huang lunged forward, grabbing Gao Yang with one hand and a nearby lamppost with the other. Thanks to his [Gun God] talent, Huang's arm strength was formidable. He clamped down on Gao Yang's wrist, momentarily locking the tug-of-war into a stalemate.
But Gao Yang wasn't relieved.
First, his body felt like a rope in a tug-of-war, about to snap. Second, more tentacles were regenerating and joining the fray. Dragging this out meant certain defeat.
And worst of all—Qing Ling was still being pulled inexorably toward the monster.
Calm down. Stay calm.
The more desperate the situation, the cooler he had to be.
Gao Yang took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
[Entering System]
[You have acquired 30 new luck points.]
—30 points?!
[You just survived 6 minutes of extreme danger. Reward multiplier: 300x.]
—Unlock a new talent! Now!
[Unlocking a new talent requires 30 luck points. Confirm?]
—Confirm!
[Unlocking…]
[Unlocking…]
[Unlocking…]
[Unlock successful.]
[Talent: Copy. Sequence No.: 18. Rune Type: Knowledge.]
[Level 1 Copy: Can replicate any talent with a sequence number above 30.]
[Method: Touch the target's body for 1 second.]
[Storage Limit: 1 talent. Duration: 1 hour.]
[Usage Time: 3 seconds. Cooldown: 12 hours.]
[Level 1 permanent stat bonus: Spirit +30, Charm -10.]
—Hell yes! Finally!
[Congratulations! First talent unlocked successfully. Next unlock requires 60 luck points.]
[Session ended. System hidden.]
[Beep—]
Gao Yang's eyes snapped open.
Qing Ling was being dragged across the ground, inch by inch, toward the monster. She clawed at the pavement, fighting the pull, but it was useless.
Assessing the situation in a flash, Gao Yang barked, "Officer Huang! Let me go!"
"Are you insane?!"
"Let go! I have a plan! Trust me!"
Time was critical. Huang released his grip.
The tentacle yanked hard, sending Gao Yang hurtling toward the monster even faster than Qing Ling. As he slid past her, he stretched out his right hand, aiming for her head—but their bodies were parallel, and his fingers fell just two centimeters short.
He strained, fingertips brushing nothing but air as he glided past her forehead, nose, lips, and chin.
Is this it?!
His heart sank—
No!
His eyes lit up. There was still hope.
Half a second later, the tip of his middle finger just barely grazed the curve of Qing Ling's chest.
Even in her struggle, Qing Ling noticed the odd contact. She didn't react with anger, only faint confusion: What is he doing? A last-ditch effort? A final farewell?
[Detected one replicable talent: Level 3 Blade Master. Copy?]
—Copy!
Instantly, a surge of energy flowed through Gao Yang's fingertip into his body. It was inexplicable—alive, carrying the vivid imprint and essence of its owner.
"GIVE ME THE BLADE!" Gao Yang roared.
Qing Ling didn't understand, but instinct took over. She stopped resisting the tentacles and focused her will.
The discarded tang dao levitated and shot toward Gao Yang.
He caught it mid-air. The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, a wave of familiarity crashed over him—as if he'd wielded this weapon ten thousand times before.
Memories, movements, experience, intuition—countless fragments fused into an indescribable force. It draped over him like a sacred shroud, guiding his body, lending him power.
With a deft twist of his wrist, Gao Yang severed the tentacle around his calf.
Now less than two meters from the monster's core—the most dangerous, yet most opportune position—his eyes locked onto the perfect angle.
He pivoted, crouched, and angled the blade.
Legs, waist, arm—aligned.
Draw!
"Shiiiing—"
The sword carved upward in a diagonal slash, cleaving through the grotesque tumor.
But he wasn't done.
The blade arced back—another strike—before the first severed chunk had even hit the ground.
It all happened in an instant.
Blood sprayed first. The scream came half a second later—cut short, dissolving into the crimson rain.
Three seconds.
The [Blade Master] talent faded.
At the same time, the tentacles gripping Qing Ling went slack.
She froze for a split second before leaping up, dashing forward, and snatching the sword from Gao Yang's hand.
Then—wham-wham-wham!—she unleashed a flurry of slashes, reducing the corpse to a pile of unrecognizable chunks. Only when she was certain it could never regenerate did she stop.
Under the moonlight, Qing Ling stood drenched in blood, her inky hair plastered to her pale face and school uniform. Chest heaving, surrounded by gore, she looked like an angel of slaughter dragged down into hell.
Slowly, she turned to Gao Yang, her gaze icy and sharp.
"Swish—"
In a blink, the bloodstained blade rested against his throat.
Her voice was low with fury. "Explain. Now."
"I—I'm sorry!" Gao Yang raised his hands in surrender. "I shouldn't have touched you—"
"Who cares about that?" The flat of the blade pressed harder. "Why do you have the [Blade Master] talent? Why hide your strength all this time?"