Chapter 23: The Fleeing Monster

Li Yi and Zhang Gao followed Tao Ge deeper into the danger zone, and the entire journey was safe.

Even so, Tao Ge led them around three danger points before finally stopping in front of an abandoned skyscraper.

“The address is correct—this is our assigned post. From now on, we’ll stay here for the next six hours.”

Tao Ge pulled out his phone, opened the map, compared it, confirmed everything was right, then glanced back at the two behind him.

“Come on, follow me to the roof.”

“Is this building dangerous?” Li Yi asked.

“This building sits at the very edge of that transcendent creature’s territory; nothing else in the danger zone dares approach here, so it’s actually safe for us. Yang Yi and Qin Qing move faster than we do—we took twelve minutes to reach our destination, but they can penetrate the center of this territory in about five.”

“Right now, that transcendent creature has to deal with Yang Yi and the others first—it won’t have time to bother with us minor players. Once Yang Yi succeeds in his hunt, we can withdraw. But before then, we must report any anomalies we see around us.”

“The danger zone hides too many unknowns. Yang Yi hired us because he fears other unknowns might creep in and profit from the chaos. Don’t underestimate those things—anything that’s survived in the danger zone for years isn’t simple.”

As he spoke, Tao Ge cautiously stepped inside the building.

The building was intact, with almost no damage—just dust everywhere and no water or electricity—clearly, the evacuation had been frantic. As Li Yi walked in, he could see many abandoned essentials: wallets, phones, car keys.

“This wallet still has cash in it. Can you believe that?”

Zhang Gao picked up an abandoned wallet and found several hundred yuan in paper bills inside.

But these old bills had ceased circulation after the Heaven’s Collapse, and their use was banned on the market—they could only be exchanged for new currency at banks.

“If you don’t mind the hassle, you can scavenge in the danger zone. With good luck, you might find plenty of money—even uncover hidden vaults left by wealthy families. In the old ruined districts, many scavengers got rich, but none dared enter the danger zone, so vast wealth remains here.” Tao Ge said as he walked.

“Too much trouble. Forget it,” Zhang Gao thought for a moment, then shook his head and casually tossed the old wallet aside.

Though the idea sounded good, anyone who could survive in the danger zone wouldn’t be short of cash.

And the truly valuable items had already been taken by cultivators hired by the employer—if they couldn’t carry them away, it was either because the items were in especially dangerous zones or because the risk outweighed the reward.

With no electricity, the building’s elevator was out of service; the three had to climb the stairs to reach the top.

But all three had excellent stamina—even climbing twenty-plus floors in one go posed no problem.

“Stop.”

Suddenly.

Tao Ge, leading the way, froze mid-step, halting on this floor.

Li Yi and Zhang Gao also stopped instantly, their bodies tensing.

From Tao Ge’s tone, they sensed an unusual tension.

Is there... an anomaly?

In the darkness.

Li Yi’s eyes shifted slightly, searching for hidden dangers. Soon, his pupils contracted—he saw the danger concealed on this floor, even without activating his spiritual medium.

But what exactly was it?

A spider?

No—not a spider. It was a ‘person’?

On one wall of this floor, a strange figure clung—its skin was gray-black, blending almost perfectly with the surroundings. But what sent chills down the spine was that it had no legs—instead, eight exceptionally slender arms grew from its body, each ending in a hand.

The eight palms clung to the wall like suction cups, making the humanoid creature resemble a giant spider.

Zhang Gao, beside him, now saw it too—his breathing instantly quickened.

What do we do?

Ignore the monster, or kill it here?

Li Yi and Zhang Gao turned to look at Tao Ge.

This decision had to be his—he was the spiritual medium, the strongest among them.

Tao Ge stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the spider-like figure on the wall, weighing his next move.

“I’m going to test it. This thing here hinders our mission—if we can’t kill it, we must drive it away. Stay alert.” He made his decision and whispered.

“Understood.”

Li Yi took a deep breath, preparing himself.

Tao Ge no longer hesitated—he swiftly approached the strange figure on the wall.

When he drew close enough, the humanoid creature immediately sensed him—its eight slender arms twitched, and its body swiftly shifted, moving four or five meters along the adjacent wall before pausing again.

At the instant the strange humanoid stopped, a pair of eyes flared in the darkness.

Sight Strike!

This was a unique attack technique of spiritual medium cultivators—Tao Ge seized the moment and struck.

Though Sight Strike was nearly useless against cultivators of equal level, it was devastating against weaker beings—and an excellent probing method.

“Ahh!”

Instantly.

A piercing scream echoed through the silent building—human-like, yet bestial.

But Sight Strike did not kill the humanoid—it only enraged it.

The next moment.

The eight-armed creature moved rapidly along the wall, closing in on Li Yi and the others.

“This speed... too fast.”

In just one or two seconds, the monster reached Tao Ge’s head—two slender arms, their palms like claws, slashed downward with terrifying force, aiming to cut him in half.

“Crash!”

Dust exploded from the ground—hard cement cracked into several grotesque fissures.

But Tao Ge moved just as fast—he dodged the attack and, in the same motion, pulled out a black-coated cleaver he hadn’t had a moment before. Unlike common knives, this blade seemed forged from a special alloy—sharp and incredibly durable.

His strike was swift—the black blade sliced through the darkness, its target impossible to discern.

Immediately, two of the spider-like creature’s arms severed cleanly, glowing fluid spurting out like bioluminescent blood, splattering everywhere.

After the successful strike, Tao Ge’s confidence surged—he leapt upward, aiming to decapitate the monster.

The creature, seemingly intelligent, reacted instantly—its remaining arms flailed wildly, trying to repel Tao Ge.

In midair, the sharp blade clashed with the grotesque palms—sparks flew.

The attack failed. Tao Ge retreated explosively, quickly creating distance to guard against further threats.

“This thing’s reflexes are faster than mine—it blocked my blade. Terrifying,” Tao Ge muttered.

After losing two arms, the spider-like monster seemed to realize Tao Ge was not to be trifled with—it stopped attacking and retreated along the wall at astonishing speed.

“It’s fleeing!” Zhang Gao exclaimed.

Tao Ge’s expression turned grim—he made no move: “Let it go. This creature, having been wounded, won’t return to this area anytime soon. If we couldn’t kill it just now, don’t force it—it’s not worth the risk.”

He didn’t want to intercept it—he feared getting trapped here.

After all, this mission was about earning money, not dying.

In just three or four seconds, the humanoid creature darted out through a shattered window and scaled the building’s exterior wall at high speed. Soon, the scraping sounds faded entirely—confirming it had truly fled.

Seeing it leave, Li Yi exhaled in relief.

The speed of that thing’s lunge had been terrifying—faster than he could react. Luckily, Tao Ge had the upper hand and drove it off; otherwise, he’d have turned and run.

“It should be safe now.”

Tao Ge remained alert, watching the surroundings until complete silence returned. Only then did he slowly exhale, confirming no further danger.

“What exactly was that monster?”

Li Yi stepped forward, glancing at the severed arm lying on the ground.

Undeniably, it was a human arm—but its bone density and muscle strength far exceeded ordinary humans, even surpassing those of spiritual medium cultivators.

“Who knows? Since the Heaven’s Collapse, our world has been filled with countless inexplicable things. But whatever it is, if it doesn’t belong to our world, we can sell it. Many research institutions are eager for these specimens—the market prices are high. Even severed limbs can be sold.”

Tao Ge sheathed his blade, examined the severed hand, but couldn’t identify the creature. Still, he eventually placed the severed arm into a bag and took it with him.

“Thanks a lot, Tao Ge—you saved us back there,” Zhang Gao hurried to thank him.

“No need. This thing wasn’t especially dangerous. I just wanted to test if I could kill it. Too bad—it got away.” Tao Ge shook his head, disappointed.

In the danger zone, spiritual medium cultivators have very limited prey. Encountering this wasn’t bad luck.

Li Yi asked: “Tao Ge, may I ask—how do you judge a creature’s strength? Just now, it was motionless on the wall, like a statue—I couldn’t tell its power at all.”

“Two ways: experience and instinct.”

Tao Ge lit a cigarette and spoke slowly: “Its skin is gray-black, matching the wall’s color. When a creature’s hue blends with its environment, it means it relies on camouflage to hide from predators—so such creatures are usually not strong. That’s experience-based analysis.”

“I see.”

With this explanation, Li Yi immediately found it logical—he thought of chameleons and octopuses.

Anything that depends on its surroundings to hide simply can’t be exceptionally powerful.

Tao Ge continued: “As for instinct... it’s intuition. Spiritual medium cultivators who advance further unlock intuition—these cultivators have extraordinarily sharp senses and can perceive the strength of other beings, better understanding their place in the food chain. But I haven’t unlocked intuition yet—what I used just now was pure experience.”

“Enough talking. Let’s go to the roof. The presence of such a weak creature here proves this place is safe. We won’t encounter further dangers from now on.”

Saying this, he moved on without delay, continuing up the stairs toward the roof.

But after this incident, Li Yi’s vigilance rose again.

Fortunately, an experienced spiritual medium led us today—if I ever wandered into the danger zone on my own, I’d die without even knowing how.

“I still have a lot to learn, a lot to improve.”

Li Yi now felt he had far more to learn.