He immediately spun toward the five who were left and roared, "Get ready to fight!"
A roar erupted ahead of them; a half-meter-thick tree a dozen meters away exploded into a skyful of splinters.
A huge purple silhouette shot toward them at terrifying speed.
Luo Yulong was about to pull back; the second squad he led was one of the five elite teams—six members in all.
Their lineup: one Level-Three Mental-Type, one Level-Three Combat-Type, three Level Twos, plus himself, a Martial-Type Captain—enough to handle anything.
Yet what they met this time went far beyond his imagination.
"Amitabha!" A hollow, emotionless voice sounded behind Luo Yulong, and he felt his body seized by an overwhelming psychic force.
That brief delay was all Tyrant needed; it landed in front of the squad.
In the group, a youth gripping a 1.5-meter alloy hammer—its head half a meter across—bellowed, "If you want them, you go through me!"
Boom! A crater burst under his feet as he shot forward, muscles bulging, and swung the massive hammer.
A Physical-Type Awakened, second only to the captain in strength, he feared nothing from the hideous Tyrant.
The rest struck at the same instant: a woman spat a column of searing flame that warped the air.
"Wind!" Beside her, a teen clapped his hands; the two skills merged, the fire jet expanding from ten centimeters to over a meter, then curving under his control to circle behind Tyrant.
Tyrant answered with a furious roar, its face twisted in rage, and punched straight at the descending hammer.
The hammer-wielder snarled and poured in more strength: "Die!"
Bang! Hammer met fist; a transparent shockwave blasted out, whipping the youth's hair backward.
His snarl froze—cracks webbed across the hammerhead, a staccato of snaps filling the air.
The head shattered the next instant; razor-sharp alloy shards shot into his body.
Thud—thud! Flesh parted; blood spattered the ground, and the hammer youth toppled rigidly.
Tyrant sneered; without even looking, it casually backhanded the fire pillar rushing in from behind.
Boom!
The fierce flame column burst apart, sparks spraying everywhere.
Faces paled; Fu Ping roared, "Scatter!"
Tyrant never slowed, accelerating straight into the squad.
Its first targets: the wind-and-fire pair. Before they could split, Tyrant smashed into them at full force.
Boom! With sheer body mass it shattered the two into bloody paste that smeared its hide.
"Beast—come at me!" Luo Yulong, eyes crimson, felt his body loosening, about to break free of Ghost Buddha's hold.
Ignoring his howls, Tyrant chased the scattered survivors.
Boom! Another punch blew a member's upper body apart.
Only the Sunglass-Wearing Fu Ping and Luo Yulong—now free—remained.
"Damned monster!" Luo Yulong's spear blazed with red aura as he charged.
Tyrant roared, the ground erupting beneath its feet as it lunged to meet him.
Fists cocked, it punched straight through, ignoring the stabbing spear.
Bang! The spear tip pierced Tyrant's chest, splitting metallic skin and sinking into muscle.
Crack! Halfway in the point jammed; Luo Yulong's face changed.
"What terrifying flesh!"
Tyrant's ever-fierce face twisted into a grin—as if mocking his futile strike.
Its fists, carrying titanic force, slammed into the red-aura-clad Luo Yulong.
Boom! With a thunderous blast, Luo Yulong shot backward like a red streak and vanished into the forest.
Tyrant yanked the spear from its chest, sighted Fu Ping fleeing into the trees, and hurled the weapon.
Whistle! Running, Fu Ping heard the air rip behind him and jerked his head aside.
Swish! The spear skimmed past his ear; his heart pounded, cold sweat beading his back.
Without his danger-sense anyone else would already be dead.
He kept running without a backward glance.
High above, the helicopter had long since retreated—battles at this level weren't safe even in the sky.
Tyrant started to pursue, then halted, spun, and sprinted off in another direction.
Ghost Buddha stayed behind, sweeping the battlefield with mental power as Jiang Yan had ordered, then walked the path Tyrant had taken, scattering any lingering psychic traces to foil trackers.
Moments after Tyrant left, a battered Luo Yulong burst back onto the scene.
The terrifying blow had been largely blunted by his aura; aside from blood at the corner of his mouth he bore no wounds.
One glance told him the monster had fled.
Seeing the shredded remains, fury flashed across his face: "There was another Awakened hiding in the shadows."
"Captain, are you alright!" Fu Ping, sensing Tyrant's departure, had returned.
Luo Yulong shook his head at Fu Ping. "I'm fine—just sorry about them."
Fu Ping sighed. "This op was a bloodbath; we didn't kill the thing and lost five Awakened."
They felt only rage and regret for their teammates' mangled bodies.
Rustle! Ahead, the undergrowth shook and a dozen Xuanjian Division Awakened burst out... At the gate of Nanfeng Manor, Jiang Yan stepped from the car.
His eyes glinted. "So these hunters are only mediocre."
He had watched the whole time; Tyrant hadn't even used its full strength to crush a squad.
"If it had brought out the Purple-Gold Body and Tyrant Force, it might have wiped out every last hunter."
He shook his head. "Better to keep building power for now—there'll be plenty of chances to play with them later."
At the entrance An Conghao stood with a Bodyguard; seeing Jiang Yan, he hurried up. "Mr. Jiang, you're back. The Medical Team is in the city and ready whenever you need them."
Jiang Yan nodded, gestured to Dong Guangjie beside him. "You know him—no need for introductions. From now on he's lab supervisor; everything inside is his call."
An Conghao beamed and offered his hand. "Understood, Supervisor Dong. I'm An Conghao; let's work well together."
Dong Guangjie forced a smile. "You're too kind, Mr. An."