Apocalypse Forecast

The first thing he felt was his heartbeat. It was like thunder from the heavens striking his chest cavity, resonating and pounding as if to tear his ribcage apart, turning all his blood into wildly flowing molten lava.

The instant contraction of muscle fibers exploded outward, bringing indescribable strength and speed, propelling Huai Shi through the storm and downpour like black ink extending through mist.

In an instant of deathly stillness, thunder rumbled again in the sky dome.

Accompanied by overlapping bursts of gunfire.

The moment Huai Shi leaped out, the surrounding mercenaries pulled their triggers without hesitation. A crisscrossing web of firepower instantly enveloped the young man's shadow.

Even though his route was so erratic.

Huai Shi only had a moment to dodge before all his escape routes were sealed. On top of the Humvee, the machine gun was already rotating again, aiming at the sprinting youth.

The trigger was about to be pulled.

In that instant, a ghastly white light swept before everyone's eyes.

That was light.

Like liquefied pure silver raining down, it burst forth with countless cold glints of fractured steel, stinging everyone's eyes.

That was lightning.

Raging thunder descended from the sky dome. The whip of divine fury lashed the burning vehicle frame, effortlessly shattering the blaze and sending sparks ascending.

Countless tiny electrical sparks snaked outward, branching like tree limbs. They greedily licked every inch of surrounding metal, leaping between the bullets in the air and illuminating the young man's pupils.

In that pitch darkness, a scarlet light flared to life.

He saw it all.

The chaotic downpour, the sweeping hurricane, the crisscrossing bullets, the burning flames, the fog surging like a tide, and the gradually tightening encirclement.

Everything froze for an instant in the unexpected flash of lightning.

Immediately after, countless droplets of water sprayed up.

Huai Shi stamped on the ground beneath him and vaulted into the air. Within the cage formed by lightning and steel, he somersaulted through the nearly solid wind. He skimmed past the scorching bullet chain to land, breaking free from the crossfire's cage.

As if walking amidst thunder.

Through the midst of thunderfire.

He burst through the downpour, tore apart the fog tangled in the wind and, with a roar erupting from his lungs, the arm hidden behind him swung forward.

The heavy Sacrificial Knife flew from his grasp, drawing the stray lightning from midair. It cleaved through layers of rain and, amidst reverberating screams, hammered into the skull of the machine gunner atop the Humvee.

BANG!

A fatal blow!

Blood spray and wails were unseen, vanishing in an instant. That unlucky devil was consumed from the inside out by the demonic blade, reduced to a desiccated skeleton.

By the time the mercenaries turned their gun barrels and aimed at the youth's shadow again, he had already returned to his travel bag, just as he'd wished.

He showed them his final smile.

"I really wish you guys brought gas masks."

The young man aimed his pistol at the travel bag at his feet and pulled the trigger. The bullet instantly tore through the plastic bag inside, and clouds of grey-black powder billowed out.

Then, in the hand holding the gun, a pale flame ignited.

Like a dust explosion.

The darkness of Apocalypse swallowed everything.

Terrible screams and terrified roars immediately resounded.

In their last moments, engulfed by fear and despair, they saw a pair of red eyes...

As the darkness slowly dissipated, the commander who had been shouting orders was curled up in his chair, weeping like an abandoned little boy.

Then, he saw the youth leaning against the car door.

He seemed to possess an invisible gravity, drawing in the darkness formed by Apocalypse, absorbing it strand by strand into his body. Like a monster, he devoured the solidified fear, despair, and death.

Huai Shi lowered his head, casually slipping the Sacrificial Knife—a work of art in itself—into his vest. He focused on loading his handgun's magazine, round by round, with meticulous care.

"To be honest, you're not elite at all, let alone professional."

Outside the shattered window, the magazine slid into the young man's handgun. He slowly raised his weapon, showing the dark muzzle to the last enemy. "At best, you're just a pack of War Dogs."

The trigger was pulled.

BANG!

All returned to silence.

Amidst the countless raindrops, he turned and stared in the direction behind him.

Silently waiting.

Within the deathly still car, He Luo stared silently at the young man waiting in the rain.

Qi Wen's expression flickered as he struggled to suppress the panic and anger in his heart.

"What is he doing?"

"Waiting for me," He Luo sighed softly. "He knows I'm here."

With that, he drew a handgun from his coat. Holding it by the barrel, he handed it to Qi Wen. "Boss, if luck isn't on our side, you might have to go to Jinling alone."

Qi Wen's expression changed drastically, and he struggled to maintain his composure. "You... You, a Gold-level Sublimator, can't beat him?"

"That little brat..." He Luo shook his head, "is different from the others."

He slowly started to rise, but Qi Wen grabbed him again.

"Don't go!" Qi Wen's eyes widened, his face twitching. "We don't need to fight this lunatic head-on! This is the Current Circumstances! It won't be long before help arrives! It won't be long!"

He Luo shook his head and couldn't help but laugh.

"Am I supposed to run away with my tail between my legs from the same kid twice?"

He gazed at the boy in the rain, who looked like an Evil Ghost. His pupils slowly narrowed, and his voice turned cold. "If we don't kill him here, we'll have no peace later."

As scales grew and covered him, a ferocious expression flashed across his increasingly snake-like face.

He said, "I'll be right back."

With that, he slowly pushed open the car door and stepped out into the downpour.

As he stepped forward, two sturdy arms emerged from slits in his coat at the shoulder blades. From his back, he drew two curved knives, green with verdigris.

A slender snake tail uncoiled from beneath his trench coat, brushing lightly through the puddles and leaving a trail of ghastly green venom.

Fueled by a near-blazing supply of Source Substance, his Stigma—Naga, Second Stage·Fulfillment of the Gold Level—fully activated. It transmuted his body into a four-armed snake-man over three meters tall.

As he spread his four hands, the water on the ground seemed drawn by an invisible force, solidifying and swirling around him like curtains.

The Naga Stigma originated in India as a lineage of the Poisonous Dragon and Giant Snake. It was brought to Myanmar, where Alchemists melded it with local miracles. They refined and blended it to create the current four-handed snake-man form, which also augmented its natural affinity with water.

He naturally had an advantage at sea, in snowy weather, and in damp areas.

He was, it could be said, at his peak.

Although he had not yet reached the Third Stage—the internal transformation into a legendary creature—he still possessed incredible destructive power.

And so, he stared at the young man in the rain.

He bared his teeth, a savage grin spreading across his inhuman face.

Huai Shi slowly drew his Sacrificial Knife.

Having feasted on fresh blood, the blade gleamed with a dazzling light, like the mesmerizing allure of death.