Chapter 124 If you're tired, take a rest.

just now.

He Feng was already standing in front of the dark cave entrance, his left hand tightly gripping the holster of the Mourner, while his right hand held a dagger, assuming a defensive stance.

His eyes were fixed on that spot, and the intense tension even caused him to have some kind of stress-induced abnormality, hallucinating that he was already thrusting into that filthy and ugly creature's body.

His eyes were already slightly bloodshot, and his heart was pounding uncontrollably.

"We can't do that."

He Feng thought to himself, lowering the hilt of his knife to his chest, forcing his trembling heart to return to normal.

Then, he took a deep breath.

"Boom~ Boom~ Boom"

The loud noise intensified, each sound like a drumbeat during a temple fair, making him stand before the giant drum.

The tangled steam engines behind me now seemed to be shaking, as if excited, making a noisy clattering noise.

The exhaust pipe trembled and shook violently, then suddenly collapsed with a hissing sound, spewing out a cloud of white steam.

The machine no longer emitted the resonant sound of grinding, but rather a cry that resembled that of a living being, sharper and more piercing, like the howl of a beast at night.

And there was also that muddy, even slightly damp, smell.

It arrived so urgently that it abruptly stopped.

It was quiet; the only sounds in the entire space seemed to be the breathing of He Feng and his companion.

The calm before the storm is the most agonizing, yet we must face it head-on.

After a few seconds of stalemate, this unnatural calm was suddenly shattered.

The original large opening of the material inlet was now stretched open by a mass of misshapen flesh.

The bizarre mountain of flesh, tens of meters high, was covered with a liquid membrane that enveloped the still twisting and writhing blood vessels and muscles.

At first glance, it looks like a biological structure, but without bone support, and it looks... somewhat alluring.

As He Feng stood ready for battle, his feet trembled slightly as he desperately suppressed his inner fear.

The metal floor was rippled by the impact.

The crimson tumor continued to grow wildly, its remaining energy slamming into the ceiling, creating a concave surface covered in slime.

Then it opened again, differentiating into four smooth tentacles resembling the tongues of a living organism, and then developing small hairs similar to tripe.

It opened and closed, seemingly swallowing the blood vapor in the air.

He Feng steadied himself and inexplicably felt that this guy's appearance and habits were like a sea anemone, causing him to hallucinate.

"Wow, I never knew you could grow this big. I've really raised you to adulthood."

That grotesquely distorted creation swayed without any rhythm, making everyone want to grind this disgusting thing to dust.

Regardless of whether it is related to him or not.

No one is immune to disgust by anything filthy and vile, let alone such a top-tier calamity hovering over the Azure.

The thing in front of us, however, is just a part of the entire group that occupies the fortress, and not even a large part of it.

These inherent problems of the fortress need to be eradicated on the spot, even if they can only be slightly alleviated.

Ordinary firearms cannot harm this incomprehensible thing, and calling on ordinary people to help is really useless.

It could even cause panic, making it a completely unprofitable deal.

Fang Tianan?

Let's not use it for now.

Moreover, the current situation is not yet too bad.

If you can't beat this thing, you can just upgrade to the second tier and ignore it for now. You can deal with it later when you have other ways.

Winning can alleviate the troubles to come, but losing... could mean trouble every day from now on.

No one knows when the growing scarlet sarcoma will become uncontrollable, bringing about its end.

This indescribable fear was something only he could bear at that moment.

"It's best to strike first," He Feng muttered to himself, his brow twitching slightly.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, He Feng slammed his feet heavily onto the ground.

After a brief moment of charging up, he pushed off with all his might, and his whole body shot out like a cannonball.

With a flash of cold light, a phantom rushed toward a tentacle at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.

The icy chill contained within the blade was released without restraint, swirling around the blade and exhaling an unbearable cold.

He Feng gripped the hilt of the knife with both hands in mid-air and slashed straight through, creating a long, narrow wound.

The inherent chill of the blade froze the ruptured flesh, and the chill lingered on it for a long time, instantly freezing the gushing fresh blood into black ice.

The black ice continued to absorb blood from the horizontal wound, making the black ice around the wound even thicker.

It adheres to the wound, preventing it from healing.

After landing steadily, He Feng licked his dry lips and continued to observe the changes caused by the injury to the tumorous tentacles.

The effect was excellent. The tentacle that was struck was now dangling heavily, looking rather half-dead. It was clear that the blade had definitely severed the tendons of that tentacle.

The bone-piercing ice blades can effectively suppress the monsters' powerful vitality. Apart from this, He Feng finds it hard to imagine any other way to subdue them.

As he looked more closely, he felt dizzy, and his upright body began to sway uncontrollably.

He immediately squatted down on the ground, his right hand holding the knife covering his head.

"What's wrong with me? I'm already exhausted. I clearly didn't use much strength."

With one hand supporting him on the ground, He Feng struggled to stand up slowly, shaking his head a few times in an attempt to drive away the discomfort.

But it doesn't seem to be of much use.

My body isn't tired, but I just can't muster any strength; it feels like I'm sealed off.

That feeling is like being "lazy".

Too lazy to fight this thing, his belief in eradicating the tumor was stripped away, and he lost interest in everything and couldn't muster any energy for anything.

Because I'm lazy, I don't want to do anything; everything is too tiring.

Standing is tiring, opening my eyes is tiring, even breathing feels...tiring?

This idea entered his mind with crystal clarity at that moment, violently blasting away all other thoughts.

"I'm so tired. What's the point of living in this world? I'd rather stay in my little bed back home on Earth."

In his dazed state, all of He Feng's clear thoughts were usurped and replaced by this abrupt and inappropriate fantasy.

"I might as well... die."

When this thought came to mind, He Feng was able to stand up, and his weakness immediately improved.

The thought of "suicide" filled him with a sense of satisfaction, giving him a feeling of relaxed comfort.

Following his thought, He Feng raised the dagger with one hand, the blade close to his neck, a satisfied smile on his face.

Once the knife slides down, he won't have to work so hard anymore and can rest indefinitely.

It was like a profound truth that he was bound to follow.

Just as he had already aimed at the carotid artery, preparing to suddenly pull out all the blood from his throat.

The suppressed panic in his brain broke free of its blockage, and the excessive release of cortisol immediately filled his nasal cavity with a bloody smell.

That is the body's autonomous reaction in the face of a crisis, not a subjective physiological manifestation.

This feeling jolted He Feng awake, and he reflexively and hastily took the dagger away.

Realizing something had gone wrong, He Feng's eyes widened in shock, and he clutched his Adam's apple, which was frostbitten by the cold air, and shouted in his heart.

"This is not normal, this is absolutely not normal!"