Apocalypse Forecast

"Yeah, isn't this just a conversation between one homeless stray dog and another?"

Koshchey finally lifted his eyes, gazing at the youth in front of him with turbid pupils, "Am I not in awe of the title you once held? Even though you possessed it for less than two days! You still received the treatment a Pharaoh should have from me. Or perhaps, a Sacrifice who has lost favor should expect more charity from me!"

The raspy voice carried the thunderous roar of an immortal, a Transformer, and a Demon King, "If you desired my admiration, perhaps you shouldn't have refused that self-immolating Snake Sacrifice! Before being driven off that seat you'd barely warmed, you should have died honorably, not clinging to life like a stray dog!"

Amonmis's expression contorted. As if countless bugs were crawling underneath, his once handsome face now twisted malevolently like an Evil Ghost, grinding its teeth, forcing words through the gaps.

"Oh, Koshchey, you truly have broken my heart."

And so, the Sphinx lifted its gaze, glaring fiercely at the old man before him.

"The feeling is mutual," the old man in the wheelchair returned the look indifferently. "If you wish to leave this ship with dignity, don't insult my family anymore, Amonmis. This is the final warning an incompetent brother can give you."

In the silence, neither spoke. Only distant wails reached their ears.

After a long while, Amonmis's expression finally smoothed over.

"Very well."

He took a step back, his voice cold, "Sphinx, let's go."

He turned and left, the orange cat glancing coldly at Koshchey before disappearing with him into the corridor.

The shattered dining room returned to silence. Amidst distant wails and screams, the solitary old man stared at the empty soup bowl on the table, and the lone remaining spoon from his once-great fortune.

Respect?

Imagine, you were once a Pharaoh. The sole agent of the gods on earth, an embodiment of the Divine Soul, a singular god incarnate among mortals. All the world's honor was yours... at least all of Egypt's honor was yours. Your glory and greatness were proclaimed across the vast lands of Africa. Before you, people bowed their heads, reverently licking your toes, learning the greatness of divine awe and grace.

Until one day, suddenly some scoundrel, some whore, was favored by those fickle gods, receiving even more love than you had. Then you lost power, honor, strength, and everything. You even nearly lost your precious life in the so-called Snake Sacrifice. You fell to dust.

Exiled from the Domain that once proclaimed your greatness, you wandered in silt and dust, forced to mingle with the vile, stench-ridden riffraff. To regain power, you even had to share a boat with those sneaky wretches who once were nothing before you.

These were all sacrifices, small forfeitures required to achieve your goal, to regain greatness. If wishes could come true, all that you've lost today would seem trivial.

But now, those scoundrels dare to ask you to 'pull together in times of hardship' with them? Even demanding 'respect' from you?

Respect? Respect? Respect?

Amonmis roamed the blood-streaked corridor, mumbling to himself, his expression indistinguishable between ferocity and ridicule, "An old ghost, about to die of old age, dares to speak this word to me? Dares to..."

The berserk Wolf muter roared and lunged, only to be torn asunder by the Sphinx's deadly claws.

Ultimately, it was devoured.

Chewed to bits, the Sphinx took a taste and then spat it out disgustedly onto the floor.

"MEOW..." The orange cat, now devoid of wisdom, turned back, sadly calling out to the Pharaoh.

Amonmis froze for a moment, his expression twisting even further. His own guard, his own mount, his symbiote, now reduced to eating such foul things. Just like him. They were all losers, long since abandoned by the world.

"Don't eat these anymore, Sphinx." He bent down, gently picking it up from the ground, stroking its fur. "I promise, my dear, we will rise again."

"MEOW!"

The Sphinx cried, not quite understanding.

Amonmis pursed his lips and moved on, heading back to his cabin. As the distinguished Pharaoh, even the White Crown King would show favor, like this luxurious guest room—unlike the narrow quarters of other riffraff—with a spacious bed and a softly-lit liquor cabinet.

Back in the room, the Sphinx rushed to its food bowl, merrily crunching on the raw meat inside.

Respect...

Amonmis, still haunted by the indignities he'd suffered, downed the wormwood-infused wine in one gulp and harshly slammed the cup back down before sitting in his chair.

"One day, Koshchey, one day..." he muttered hoarsely. "You and your whore will understand what respect is."

"I think you won't live to see that day."

A raspy voice arose.

Amonmis abruptly looked up, turning towards the source of the voice, and saw the figure pushing the door open and entering.

Looking as if stricken with a grievous illness, he staggered forward, putrid corpse water dripping from his cloak. Reaching out, he casually grabbed a bottle from the liquor cabinet, broke off the neck, then poured the contents into the mouth beneath his hood. The wine, whether leaking from the corner of his mouth or a hole in his belly, dripped down, mixing with the rancid liquid and staining the plush carpet with a large swath of gray.

"How audacious!"

Amonmis's eyes widened. Without his command, the Sphinx leaped forward, mouth agape, to tear the daring fiend who dared to offend the Pharaoh's palace to shreds.

Shattered limbs fell to the ground, teeming with maggots in the already decaying flesh.

But then, the Sphinx's expression changed. It seemed to be in extreme pain, convulsing violently. It opened its mouth wide, attempting to vomit, but nothing came out—it could only scream in torment amidst the chewing sounds emanating from its stomach.

CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH...

The frenzied beast endured the intense pain, rolling around violently, turning the entire lavish room into a mess. But soon, it lay motionless.

Only the skin on its abdomen slowly bulged, then tore open from the inside out, revealing a hideous face, its skull already corroded.

"This head... can't be used anymore, can it..."

That hideous face grinned, offering a sinister smile to the Pharaoh. On its chest, a large mouth slowly opened, greedily munching on the Sphinx's limbs, inch by inch, even as the divinely-tinged blood corroded its own shell with a sizzling sound. It indulged in gluttony, enjoying its dinner, moaning hoarsely in agony while simultaneously swallowing with delight.

The three different heads stared blankly at the rigid Pharaoh.

"What in the world is this monstrosity..."

In that moment, Amonmis let out a cry of despair.

Yin Yan. Twenty years old. Trainee Reviewer of the Astronomical Society. Likes to sing, dance, and R... probably. Or maybe he doesn't like any of it—who knows? Anyway, the only thing Huai Shi knew for sure was that when Yin Yan fought, he was a complete noob!

"In eSports, being a noob is the original sin!"

Huai Shi kicked the knife out of Yin Yan's hand, then swung his Axe down at his head. In the blink of an eye, flesh parted from bone as Yin Yan's arm flew into the air.

Two seconds before Ai Qing issued the command, the prepared 'second fifth' Huai Shi had launched his backstab.

Don't ask why. If you ask, it's because he's a 'second fifth.'

He raised his hand and fired his Tri-linked Breaking Demon Crossbow Arrows in succession. At such a close distance, within ten steps, the silver crossbow arrows arrived almost instantly, yet Yin Yan managed to react and dodge... revealing himself to be a true 'second fifth'!

Now you're exposed, aren't you? You damn bastard, if you didn't have a guilty conscience, how could you be so wary of me!

Even if he dodged, it was too late. Though he avoided the last two crossbow arrows, he couldn't escape the first one. It pierced straight through his chest, leaving behind a charred scorch mark.

Yin Yan rolled on the ground, crying out in pain before turning invisible and disappearing without a trace. Then Huai Shi saw a charred, floating wound charging straight at him.

And then, the brutal scene from just moments ago replayed. It was a complete thrashing.

Even if Huai Shi was restored to his original form, without relying on the techniques and experience from Van Essen's memories, he could still easily toy with this guy in eighty-one different ways.

"But why did we attack him again?" Huai Shi asked, the realization dawning on him afterward.

"Because he had something to hide," Ai Qing sneered. "Regardless of the other flaws in his statements, my little brother, ever since he was young, would hide anything good he found as if his life depended on it... Why would he ever share it willingly?"

"What if we were wrong?"

"Then we were wrong," Ai Qing said indifferently. "Anyway, he had to die sooner or later. As long as we get the crew list, we don't lose out."

Yikes! You tacticians are all so ruthless!

Huai Shi lamented inwardly, striking even more ferociously. After swinging the Axe, he pulled the Short Knife from his waist with his left hand and swept forward. Yin Yan stumbled and scrambled, crawling desperately toward the corridor.

"Damn it, how long are you just going to watch?!"

With Yin Yan's scream, hoarse whispers and roars suddenly erupted from the quiet rooms lining the silent hallway. Dozens of uncontrollable Werewolves burst through the fragile door panels, charging at Huai Shi!

"You offend a Demon Hunter and think you can run!"

Huai Shi raised his hand and fired three more crossbow arrows. He wasn't sure if they hit anything before a Werewolf was already lunging at his face.

"Get lost!"

The Axe fell, splitting a dog-like head. Huai Shi kicked the still-twitching creature aside, only for another out-of-control attacker to pounce on him.

In an instant, the corridor was a sea of dark figures.

All enemies!

"Meet your end!"

With the Short Knife in his left hand and the Axe in his right, Huai Shi roared and then... turned tail and ran.