Chapter 78

79. The Sharp Knife

Self-preservation of a strange object?

This eerie skull mural indeed possessed unimaginable strange power; it seemed Li Yi could not destroy it easily, but the more difficult it was, the more he had to do it.

Such an evil thing, even if it was a strange object, what did it matter? Destroy it—it’s better off gone than left to cause harm.

Thinking this, Li Yi unhesitatingly pulled the bolt again, the second red bullet already chambered.

Without hesitation, he raised his rifle and aimed once more at the skull mural on the wall.

The moment he made this move, immediate changes occurred nearby.

From the surrounding shadows, one mummy after another emerged—these were cultivators trapped and dead within the illusion; their consciousness had vanished, yet their bodies remained, controlled by the eerie mural, becoming mindless undead, and they retained their former combat strength, not to be underestimated.

“Though your skull mural is evil, I have a gun.” Li Yi fired the trigger the instant the mummies had not yet moved.

This time, he was not disturbed.

With a gunshot, the bullet flew forth.

But at the same moment, all the appearing mummies erupted in unison, shrieking and wailing like awakened demons, charging straight at him.

In an instant, the mummy blocking the way exploded as if struck by a shell, its shattered limbs spraying outward, motionless thereafter; yet the other mummies paid no heed, still rushing toward Li Yi as if determined to tear him apart.

“Boom!”

A violent tremor shook through, as if the entire building had swayed—the red bullet struck precisely upon the skull mural on the white jade wall.

The power of the strange object clashed with the power of the firearm.

But something astonishing happened.

The white marble skull mural, taking a direct hit from a super-class sniper rifle, remained completely unharmed; the bullet had shattered into fragments, scattering everywhere, yet the skull remained smooth, pale, and glowing faintly.

“What the hell, it’s still intact?” Li Yi stared, stunned.

This firearm could kill superhuman beings, yet it had no effect at all against this strange object.

But now there was no time to dwell on it.

The remaining mummies had reached him.

“You mummies dead for who knows how many days think you can kill me?” Li Yi roared, discarded his rifle, and swung a punch forward.

“Crack!”

The punch exploded— instantly shattering the skull of the charging mummy, then the withered, shriveled body collapsed to the ground, twitched twice, and fell still; clearly, once the corpse was damaged beyond a certain point, even the skull mural could no longer control it.

Seeing his punch worked, Li Yi’s confidence surged; now like a ferocious beast charging into a flock of sheep, he struck with fists and feet toward the approaching mummies.

Though he absorbed some attacks, his clothing possessed astonishing defensive power—these assaults were utterly negligible, easily absorbed.

In mere moments, the last few mummies were slain outright.

“Though these mummies retained their former strength, they lacked their former minds—movement and combat were rigid, incapable of adaptation or retreat, mere puppets on strings; unless their numbers were overwhelming, they posed no real threat to me.” Li Yi evaluated after disposing of the mummies.

Then he turned his gaze coldly back to the skull mural not far away.

“I refuse to believe I can’t destroy this damned thing. Last shot was blocked by mummies, weakened some of its power—I’ll try another.”

He now refused to accept defeat, loaded another special bullet into the sniper rifle, pulled the bolt, and chambered it in one fluid motion.

Again aiming at the same spot, Li Yi pulled the trigger.

He wanted to see if two bullets striking the same point would stack damage and shatter the skull mural.

“Boom!”

The rifle roared; the massive recoil forced Li Yi back half a step, but cultivators’ bodies were robust—this recoil meant nothing. His eyes gleamed brightly as he fixed them on the mural ahead.

The bullet struck precisely at the center of the skull’s brow.

The collision unleashed tremendous force; the ground trembled, then the bullet shattered, fragments flying everywhere, kicking up dust and broken stone.

The mural remained intact.

The skull, as before, held a sacred seal, seated upon a lotus throne, serene, half-smiling.

“Damn, still useless.”

Li Yi cursed under his breath, forced to admit his super-class M200 sniper rifle truly could not shatter this suspected strange object mural.

If it couldn’t be shattered, it couldn’t be destroyed—meaning the illusion enveloping the building still persisted; Zhang Lei and the others remained trapped inside, unable to escape.

But then a question surfaced in Li Yi’s mind.

If my weapons can’t destroy this mural, why does it control the mummies to protect itself?

What is it afraid of?

Or what does it fear?

Put another way: Li Yi must possess something capable of destroying this mural—only then would the skull mural sense danger and need to control mummies to attack Li Yi, even to defend itself.

Wait.

A flash of insight struck Li Yi’s mind—he suddenly realized something.

He yanked something from his pocket.

It was half a bronze knife coin.

Yet strangely, the bronze knife coin now emitted a faint blue glow, appearing divine and extraordinary.

“Strange objects themselves can serve as weapons. This skull mural isn’t afraid of my sniper rifle—it fears this broken knife coin I carry. If I’m right, this bronze knife coin can destroy the mural.”

Li Yi stared at the broken bronze knife coin in his hand.

He felt certain this guess was correct.

“Then let’s try it—no one’s here, and I’m not worried about exposing this broken strange object.”

He took a deep breath, stowed the sniper rifle, gripped the broken knife coin, and strode swiftly toward the white jade wall.

Li Yi remained alert, watching for any imminent danger.

Fortunately, the surroundings were safe.

The eerie skull mural may have appeared in this world too recently to have accumulated many mummies; after clearing the first batch, none had reappeared. Had it been given time to control hundreds or even thousands of mummies, he’d have had no choice but to flee.

Soon.

Li Yi stood before the skull mural.

No longer affected by the illusion, he raised the knife coin and slashed hard against the mural.

The bronze knife coin was utterly blunt—yet now it left a deep gash on the otherwise indestructible skull mural.

Li Yi froze: “This coin’s usually useless, can’t even cut my palm—yet now it can damage other strange objects? This coin isn’t simple—it hides other secrets.”

He then realized: this broken knife coin was no ordinary strange object. This was his first time using it as a weapon—and it had produced such an effect.

Yet by damaging it, he might have turned a complete strange object into a broken one, drastically reducing its value.

But this crack had made the illusion, once capable of enveloping the entire building, now extremely unstable.

Li Yi clearly saw an invisible halo outline rapidly shrinking, while the glow emitted by the skull mural instantly dimmed.

Clearly, the illusion was fading.

But at the same time.

Outside the building.

Zheng Gong and Fan Feng, on guard duty, suddenly turned pale.

Because they saw many vehicles approaching from all directions—no notifications, no warnings—they simply crossed the Investigation Bureau’s perimeter, ignoring all alerts.

“What’s going on?” Zheng Gong asked, uneasy.

Fan Feng’s face darkened: “It’s the vagrants from the Ruined District. Their noses are sharp—they smell opportunity and come running. Watch out; these are ruthless bastards. Your Investigation Bureau ID won’t scare them—only absolute strength and brutal force will make them retreat.”

“But they’re still trapped inside the building, reinforcements haven’t arrived, and we’re the only ones here.” Zheng Gong’s face paled.

“No choice—we’ll have to hold them off as long as we can.” Fan Feng exhaled sharply. “You handle negotiations; I’ll cover you from the shadows. Maybe they’ll hesitate because of my sniper rifle and buy us some time.”

“Alright.” Zheng Gong gritted his teeth and nodded.

At that moment.

The distant vehicles had arrived, stopping at the building’s entrance—counting carefully, exactly ten.

As the vehicles halted, doors swung open.

A large number of cultivators stepped out—dressed in outdated clothes, skin rough, hair disheveled, yet their eyes glinted with ferocity.

Anyone who could survive long-term in the Ruined District was no ordinary person—they were all ruthless.

But this group wasn’t without a leader.

A burly bald man, eyes narrowed, studied the building before him.

He was Wei Bin, a master who had awakened his spiritual sense, a notable figure in Tianchang City.

“Hey, kid, where’s your boss Zhang Lei? Dead inside? I heard rumors this building might contain a strange object, so I came to check. If I’m lucky, I’ll even collect Zhang Lei’s corpse.” Wei Bin glanced at Zheng Gong with a smile.

“Vagrants from the Ruined District, you’ve crossed the line. Leave now, or face the consequences.”

Zheng Gong glared at the group; though uneasy, he showed no sign of retreat.

“Wei Bin, kill him immediately. Zhang Lei’s probably dead today. Once we take over this building, whatever’s inside is ours.” A man with a sinister gaze spoke suddenly.

“Hmm, true—but first, we must deal with their sniper. Being watched constantly won’t do.” Wei Bin suddenly looked up and grinned toward a window on a nearby building.

At that moment.

Fan Feng, aiming his sniper rifle at them, turned pale, every hair on his body standing on end.

Could he lock onto me from this distance?

This kind of awareness was terrifying.