Chapter 171: Monsters Strike at Midnight

Myanmar Region, a country neighboring Great Xia.

Here there are many unresolved historical issues, leading to weak governmental governance, a relatively chaotic social order, which can be described as a mix of fish and dragons; many criminals have taken refuge here, it can be called a haven for criminals.

The overseas cultural relics smuggling group's largest base in East Asia is located in an auction house at the northeastern corner of Myanmar Region.

Being able to open an auction house in such a criminal haven shows that the forces behind it are formidable.

All around the auction house are mercenaries with live ammunition, looking extremely fierce; rather than saying they are security, they look more like bandits.

Moreover, a watchtower has been built nearby, equipped with snipers; from here one can overlook the entire scene below, the whole auction house under surveillance, with no blind spots.

Because of the auction house's strength and security, many illicit items are traded here, most of them being illegally obtained cultural relics or stolen goods.

And people from all walks of life are also eager to bring their 'black market goods' here for auction; although the commission is high, the stability makes it worthwhile.

"Boom—boom—boom—"

Accompanied by the roar of a car engine, a large truck came from not far away; after passing through layers of inspection and confirming there were no issues, the mercenaries waved their hands to signal it to proceed.

Soon someone came out to unload the cargo; seeing several large boxes being lifted from the trunk, a small foreman stood by watching.

"Be careful, these boxes contain cultural relics; if they get damaged, you couldn't afford to pay even if you sold yourselves ten times over!"

Someone nearby eagerly handed him a cigarette, saying, "Zhouge, it looks like you've had a plentiful haul again this time."

He glanced at the boxes on the truck, which were even several times more than before, and couldn't help but ask, "I feel the quantity has increased lately; is something happening?"

The person called Zhouge nodded, saying, "You kid have sharp eyes; besides what our boss obtained, other forces are also planning to use these for the auction the day after tomorrow."

Every so often, the auction house holds a large auction, inviting various forces to attend, and the auction thus makes a huge profit.

"We need to be careful these days; when all the forces gather here, the boss won't allow any mistakes, otherwise we'll get our skins peeled off."

Someone quickly flattered, "What could go wrong? Under Zhouge's management, this place is airtight; not even a mosquito can fly in, and anyone suspicious who approaches will be turned into a porcupine."

Zhouge stubbed out the cigarette with a foot, saying, "That's true; after all, we've held so many auctions before with no problems."

After the two chatted for a while, they each went about their own business.

To the east of the auction house is a small grove; to the south lies a river; there are no other structures nearby.

As night fell, the guards did not relax but became even stricter, with patrols around the clock protecting the auction house like an iron barrel.

The dark, dense forest resembled a crouching beast lurking in the shadows, its outline becoming blurred, and the branches turning into twisted, spindly monsters.

Not far away came the sound of footsteps; a few mercenaries went over to relieve themselves.

"Damn, it's my turn on duty again today; they won't even let people rest!"

"After all, during this special period, the number of duty personnel has increased considerably; after the shift change, we brothers will go relax properly; I heard that the northern district has received a lot of good goods lately."

The few people looked at each other and immediately let out a smirk.

The night wind brushed past; under the faint moonlight, one could see the bushes swaying slightly, something approaching them.

One of the men's expression changed slightly, "There seems to be something over there."

"What? Could you have misheard?"

The moment his words fell, the bushes swayed more violently; now all three saw it.

They exchanged a glance, tiptoed closer, and heard a faint rustling nearby; instinctively they reached for their guns at their waists.

A brownish shadow darted out from the bushes.

"Turns out it's just a fox; I thought it was something else."

Looking at the animal that had emerged, the few people relaxed, yet they didn't notice the fox's gaze filled with coldness and ridicule.

The fox's hind legs thrust powerfully, like an arrow released from a bow; its body curled into a ball in midair and slammed straight into a person's head.

Its speed was astonishing; everything happened in a flash, giving no time to react.

Though small in size, it had the weight of a thousand jin; with a "thud," one person's eyes went black and he staggered, collapsing to the ground.

Watching this scene, the remaining two stared dumbfounded, still unaware of what had happened, and couldn't help but click their tongues, saying, "I say, brother, it's just a bump from a fox; no need to faint."

The person beside jeered, "Maybe you're kidney-deficient; perhaps you overexerted yourself in bed last night."

They didn't think much of it, after all, how much strength could a tiny fox have? They shoved the fallen man, but saw he had no reaction.

"Alright, stop pretending; we've been out here a while, and if we don't go back, the captain will scold us."

The person on the ground still had his eyes tightly shut.

"He really seems to have passed out?"

The two wore expressions of disbelief, failing to notice that in the bushes behind them, several pairs of eerie green eyes had lit up, like lanterns in the dark night, big and small, utterly creepy.

They seemed to sense something as well; a foul wind appeared to blow from behind, they glanced at each other, swallowed hard, and hurriedly turned around.

But they were met with a ferocious, blood‑filled maw, drool dripping onto the ground.

It was actually a patterned tiger!

In the next moment, before they could fire, only a few urgent screams were heard; soon the place returned to calm, as if nothing had happened.

A breeze brushed past, the leaves rustled, and countless whispers arose.

On another side, the patrolling mercenaries seemed to have heard something, lifting their heads to look toward the grove.

"Did you hear any movement?"

The companion beside them was unconvinced, "What movement could there be? It's just the wind."

He shook his head, "No, it sounds like human screams."

The companion's expression showed some disdain, "In Myanmar Region, there's no shortage of corpses and screams."

That makes sense; with the night dark and windy, it's a perfect time to kill and dump bodies—take the nearby small river, for example, they have no idea how many people have drowned in it.

In Myanmar Region, everything is valuable except human life, which is worthless.

As the night deepened, a black curtain shrouded the entire compound, tightly sealed, inexplicably exuding an oppressive atmosphere, as if something major were about to happen.

The mercenary on the watchtower was puffing on a cigarette, engaged in a desultory chat.

"I don't know what's wrong today; you can't even see the moon, let alone a star."

Still looking at the stars and the moon? You don't still love checking out big‑butted girls? When did you get so artsy?

As they talked, under night's cover, a tiny shadow climbed the watchtower—small and unnoticeable—and even with many mercenaries nearby, no one spotted it.

The sniper on the watchtower felt an itch on his back, as if something fluffy had swept past, and he thought it was a prank by a comrade.

"Cut it out."

His companion's voice came from beside him: "What, cut it out?"

The sniper gave him a baffled look and said, "Wasn't it you who just touched my back?"

His companion's expression grew even stranger—he held a cigarette in one hand and a telescope in the other, waving whatever was in his hand, and said, "I really didn't touch you."

The moment his words landed, the fluffy feeling came again; the sniper jerked his head back and found himself staring into eyes the size of mung beans.

At such close range it startled him, nearly knocking over the sniper rifle beside him.

It turned out to be a weasel!

Its fluffy tail had just swept across his neck—so the strange sensation earlier was entirely this weasel's doing.

"How odd—why would there be a weasel here?"

They instantly became interested, eyeing the little creature; after all, the watchtower is still somewhat high, and ordinary small animals couldn't climb up.

Besides, this weasel wasn't afraid of people; it twisted its body toward them as if dancing, making them burst out laughing.

"This little thing is pretty fun."

Hearing their words, the weasel's eyes flashed with contempt, then it turned around and raised its fluffy tail.

Just then, a pale yellow gas drifted from the weasel's tail, accompanied by a foul smell.

They hurried to cover their noses, but it was too late; all they heard was a dull thud as both the sniper and the mercenaries collapsed.

The mercenaries below the watchtower were still patrolling, unaware of what had happened up top.

The weasel perched on the edge of the watchtower, looking down on the mercenaries below, its greenish eyes glinting strangely.

On its fluffy paws it also held a yellow talisman, which fluttered in the night wind, filling the air with endless mystery.

At some point a thin veil of mist began to rise, a gauzy white haze drifting over the entire compound, blurring everything.

The mercenary patrol captain, code‑named Dushe, bore a ferocious scar that ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth, cutting across most of his face and looking extremely vicious.

Looking at the white mist around him, Dushe frowned and said, "How did the fog suddenly roll in? Pass the word down—patrol squads must stay sharp, no slacking."

Fog rarely appears here at night, and because of it visibility narrowed; even with binoculars, the distance was just a murky haze.

Although the security here is ample and no one would dare sneak in, the auction is about to start, so we'd better stay cautious.

"Boss, aren't we being overly cautious? With our security force, who could possibly break in? And the watchtower would give a signal anyway."

Dushe pondered a moment, then said, "That's not how to put it—better safe than sorry, after all, these are special times."

Moreover, for some unknown reason—perhaps a sixth sense—I keep feeling that something will happen tonight.

Dushe approached the first patrol squad; his sharp gaze swept over them like an Eagle Falcon, and he quickly noticed something off: "How come we're missing three people?"

Each patrol squad has fifteen members, but this one only has twelve.

"Captain, those three went to the bathroom."

"How long have they been gone?"

Faced with Dushe's question, no one dared hide the truth: "Probably ten or so minutes."

Dushe's face darkened instantly: "Does taking a dump really need ten or more minutes? Why didn't you report it sooner?"

The questioned junior leader flustered, "I—I thought they were just slacking off."

This sort of thing had happened before—using a bathroom break as an excuse to slack off—so they'd usually turn a blind eye.

Dushe gave a cold smile, his tone like a poison‑coated blade.

"The auction is about to start, and the boss ordered us to tighten security—do they really have time to slack off? If the higher-ups find out, you know what the consequences will be without me spelling it out."

The junior leader, not knowing what else to think, shivered and said, "Captain, I know I was wrong—I'll send people to fetch them back."

Dushe's ruthlessness was notorious in the compound; falling into his hands, death was practically a relief—but after searching the area, he found no trace of them.

He asked the gate guards, who said they hadn't seen anyone leave; the three grown men had simply vanished into thin air.

Hearing the junior leader's report, Dushe's expression turned incredulous: "You're telling me those three are missing?!"

Seeing his ferocious expression, the junior leader wiped sweat from his forehead, inwardly cursing the three men, and said, "We haven't found them, and security says nobody left—they're probably just hiding somewhere, napping."

Dushe felt something was off, though he couldn't pinpoint it; his gaze fell on a nearby spot, and compared to before, the outside fog seemed a bit thicker.

He felt an inexplicable unease and ordered, "Step up the patrols—no letting our guard down! I want those three found."

The three missing weren't found; instead, two more who had gone to the bathroom disappeared as well. One incident could be a coincidence, but a second one surely means someone's behind it.

Before, Dushe had only suspected it; now he was certain—someone was approaching the auction house and lying in wait in the dark, ready to strike.

"Damn it! What's going on with the watchtower crew? Are they brain‑dead? They didn't even notice someone sneaking in."

The walkie‑talkie gave no reply, no matter how they called; the watchtower personnel seemed as good as dead, and Dushe's heart sank to the depths.

A flash of malice crossed his face: "Quite the method—silently taking out our people, not to mention the sniper side; no wonder there was no warning."

His subordinates couldn't help but feel uneasy: "What should we do now?"

The auction house had stood for years without ever seeing such an incident, and the various powers in the border region feared its background, so none dared to act.

Dushe gave him a sideways glance: "Why panic? Those behind can only use sneaky little tricks—showing their strength is mediocre. If they faced us head‑on, our firearms would blast them to pieces."

At this moment Dushe still didn't grasp the seriousness of the situation; his expression was full of malice.

"He'd better pray he never falls into my hands, or I'll make him wish he were dead. Pass my order: without my permission, no one may go alone—everyone must dead‑guard the auction house."

The mercenaries stepped up their patrols, covering every inch of the auction house's perimeter, not even leaving a corner unchecked.

The unseen party, seeing their defenses tighten, found no opening to strike—whether they'd given up or not, nothing happened in the first half of the night.

When the second half of the night arrived.

"Whoosh—"

A fierce wind suddenly rose, blowing the surrounding trees this way and that; strangely, the mist remained completely still, not blown away at all.

Suddenly blowing sand made these mercenaries barely able to keep their eyes open.

The sinister wind carried yellow sand, and together with the white mist filling the sky, both visibility and mobility were severely restricted.

He felt as if heaven itself were opposing them, and Du She's uneasy foreboding grew stronger.

Especially from deep within the mist came the eerie howls of unknown creatures, like ghosts wailing and wolves howling, seemingly from no discernible direction, continually tormenting everyone's ears.

Unable to locate the source of the sound, the mercenaries could only stay alert, watching their surroundings for any sudden developments.

Du She's brow darkened with menace as he growled, "Who's playing tricks? Get out here, now!"

He was convinced someone was behind this Mystifying Deception, and out of the corner of his eye he caught a black shape approaching from afar.

He shouted, "Who's there!"

As soon as he spoke, he choked on a mouthful of sand, covering his mouth and nose while sizing up the black figure drawing near.

Because his view was obstructed, he couldn't see clearly, only feeling that the black shape was toweringly huge, like a small hill.

As the shadow drew nearer, a rough glance showed it was over ten meters tall, like a giant.

The mercenaries stared, dumbfounded, "What the hell is this?!"

Can something like that even be called a person? How could a normal human possibly be that tall?

Even mercenaries who licked blood from their blades and had countless lives on their hands felt fear well up.

When faced with the unknown, people are always filled with fear—it's instinct, and no one is exempt.

Du She and the others dared not act rashly; seeing the thing draw closer, he signaled the group, aiming their dark gun muzzles at the towering shadow.

No matter what it was, before superior firepower it would amount to nothing; Du She wanted to see just who had staged all this.

The sinister wind still raged, but the mist finally blew away, and everyone at last saw the true form of the black shape—yet the sight that met their eyes was beyond belief.

It far exceeded anything they had ever imagined, both absurd and uncanny.

The air fell into dead silence, save for the wind whooshing past; everyone gaped, afraid to breathe, thinking they must be hallucinating.

The black shape that had frightened them was not a monster but a huge striped tiger.

Most astonishingly, the tiger stood and walked like a person, nearly two meters tall, imposing great pressure on them.

Behind the tiger came wolves, then hyenas, foxes, monkeys, weasels, and so on.

Countless pairs of dim animal eyes fixed on them, leaving the mercenaries with tingling scalps, unable even to meet their gaze.

The animals' behavior was bizarre to an extreme, let alone the fact that the tiger, as king of the mountain, could never peacefully coexist with such creatures.

When things go against the norm, there must be something uncanny.

If only a single kind of animal had appeared, they would certainly not have been afraid; the greatest threat among them would have been nothing more than a tiger.

But such a scene, such behavior, and the way it appeared are chilling to the bone.

For a moment, Du She and the others dared not act rashly.

"They're just beasts—we're many and armed; how could we still fear them!"

A gleam flashed in the tiger's eye, and it let out a roar: "Roar!"

Accompanied by the tiger's earth-shaking roar, Du She felt his eardrums about to burst.

The animals seemed to have received some command, instantly scattering and charging at them like wind and lightning.

The once-neat mercenaries were thrown into disarray in an instant; the beasts' claws, flashing cold light, swept down and ripped out large chunks of flesh, accompanied by pig-slaughtering screams.

Some were even knocked down by wolves, their throats bitten through in a single snap.

These beasts' claws were like divine weapons, Sharp Instrument—unimaginably sharp; most importantly, their bodies moved like lightning, leaving barely an afterimage in the air, hard to catch with the naked eye.

Because they were so fast, in just a moment many on Du She's side were wounded.

Even well-trained mercenaries were thrown into confusion by a few dozen beasts; Du She, furious, shouted, "What are you standing there for? Open fire!"

The air was thick with gunpowder smoke, yet the wind and sand continued, the fog not fully cleared, visibility poor, and with the beasts causing havoc nearby, many of the mercenaries' shots went wide.

Some even accidentally hit their own comrades, and the scene instantly descended into utter chaos.

The mercenaries were practically being beaten down by the beasts, with many already fallen, while the animals remained vigorous and surged forward fiercely.

"What a bunch of useless! Armed with guns, they can't even handle a few beasts!"

The mercenaries beside him looked terrified, "Captain, these beasts are truly uncanny."

Du She's eyes turned cold as he scanned the group, "Increase firepower! I'll skin these beasts and make a scarf out of their hides!"

No sooner had he spoken than a black shadow lunged at him; feeling the fierce wind from behind, Du She darted aside, yet his face still burned with pain.

He touched his left cheek, and blood trickled down.

Watching the tiger lick its paws not far away, Du She's expression turned murderous; he immediately pulled the trigger, "Damn, you stinking tiger dare to hurt me!"

"Bang bang bang!"

The tiger's frame was huge, yet its movements remained agile; its pair of furry claws rested behind its back, its face bearing an air of calm ease as it effortlessly dodged the incoming bullets, practically handling them with ease.

From time to time it seized an opening to strike; in a moment Du She's right cheek also bore several bloody marks, now his face was symmetrically scarred on both sides.

The Northeast Tiger nodded, seemingly pleased with its handiwork, its expression full of mockery as it extended its furry claw toward Du She, making a gesture like the number one.

Onlookers thought they were seeing things, muttering, "I swear I just saw the tiger flip the captain the bird."

This scene was witnessed by many.

Du She's face turned even darker, his gloom almost dripping with fury as he roared, "Hurry up and kill that tiger!"

At that moment the tiger stood before Du She, unaware that a mercenary behind him had quietly raised a machine gun, its dark muzzle aimed at the tiger's body.

"Whoosh!"

As a bullet fired, it seemed sure to hit the tiger, but at the crucial moment it twisted its body, dodging the shot with an impossible arc.

Du She was not so lucky; after the tiger sidestepped, his body was exposed to the bullet, and at such close range he had no time to react.

He clutched his arm and let out a heart-rending scream.

"Captain!"

The mercenary who had fired earlier never expected to hit the poison snake; his shocked hands could barely hold the gun steady.

The tiger, however, bared its teeth and grinned, even making a ghoulish face.

It was definitely intentional!

Besides being angry, the poison snake felt an indescribable fear; with his arm injured, he could hardly command, and his movements were inconvenient, finally grasping the seriousness—he had underestimated these animals.

Or perhaps these aren't ordinary animals at all, but monsters!

After that thought entered his mind, looking at those deep animal eyes, everything felt off, especially the lead tiger, which fully displayed a demonic hue.

How could ordinary animals dodge bullets? Their speed is incredibly fast, they appear and disappear unpredictably, and they possess tremendous strength.

Just then, the poison snake personally saw a fox shoot out like a marble, directly knocking a mercenary over!

The monkey beside him waved its fists, its movements smooth and flowing, evoking the legendary Monkey Fist; it even flashed a provocative look, hooking its finger at the mercenaries.

Seeing these strange animals, when the night wind blew, the mercenaries couldn't help but shiver, goosebumps rising on their skin.

"Call for help outside quickly!"

His subordinates took out their phones, but received mysterious interference; there was no signal here, not even for calls, let alone texts.

"No way, Captain, there's no signal right now."

The poison snake's eyes turned red as he snatched the phone, shouting, "How could there be no signal!"

No matter how he operated, the result was the same; furious, he smashed the phone to the ground and stomped on it hard.

Seeing the vicious animals approaching, everyone fell into despair.

Night fell, no light could be seen, only a few dim green glows remained, like the arrival of the grim reaper, sinking the hearts of the poison snake and others to the depths.

The air was filled with a solemn, heavy aura, like a towering wave pressing on their hearts.

These mercenaries' hands were stained with many sins; they never valued life, never imagined they'd die at the hands of a bunch of animals—or rather, monsters.

"We, we'll fight these beasts to the death!"

The speaker's teeth were chattering, showing his lack of resolve.

Looking around, many of their people had already fallen, while the animals were unscathed, completely overwhelming them.

But now, with no retreat, surrounded by the animals and unable to call for help, rather than wait for death, they might as well fight to the death.

The poison snake's eyes turned red, his expression ferocious, as he grabbed the nearby heavy machine gun and wildly sprayed the animals.

"Brothers, let's fight these beasts to the death!"

Both sides once again fell into a chaotic melee.

When facing death, humans can unleash tremendous potential, especially these mercenaries who have long licked blood from the blade's edge; yet even so, it was no more than an egg striking a stone.

"Awoo!"

Only a small yellow weasel suddenly let out a roar, unknown what technique it used, then began to glow all over, darting across the battlefield like an arrow released from a bow, sending many mercenaries sprawling wherever it passed.

Its eyes, the size of mung beans, glittered with mockery and ridicule.

Countless bullets fell like meteors, but to it they were merely a drizzle, easily dodged, and it even smugly flicked its fluffy tail.

Occasionally a few struck it by misfortune, and its light suddenly flared, forming a white shield that protected it; bullets could not penetrate, not even a single hair falling out.

Even powerful bullets were just a tickle to it.

"How is this possible? What kind of monster is this!"

Meanwhile, the fox stood in place, emitting a strange chirring sound from its throat, which upon close listening turned out to be some kind of mysterious musical note.

An obscure incantation spilled from its mouth, and instantly several purple arcs of electricity crackled on its furry paws, the sound unceasing.

The nearby mercenaries, seeing this bizarre scene, were nearly scared stupid, even forgetting to pull the trigger.

"Demons, they really are monsters!"

"Boom!"

The next second, purple lightning split the black night sky, striking him with the speed of thunder before he could cover his ears.

The mercenary's pupils contracted sharply; the last thing he saw before death was the lightning snake right before him.

Accompanied by screams, a mysterious burnt smell filled the air.

The fox casually patted its paws; amidst flashing lightning, its whole body exuded an electric aura as it sought the next target.

Even a hyena spat out a talisman from its mouth, chasing after the mercenaries, as if blossoming splendid flowers on them, gorgeous to the extreme.

Among them, the most striking was likely the Northeast tiger, which, relying solely on its sturdy body without any techniques, left those mercenaries unable to fight back.

With a light swipe of its paw, a huge boulder exploded!

Several mercenaries were flung several meters away, hitting the nearby wall, which instantly cracked like a spiderweb collapsing to the ground, injuring many, showing how terrifying its strength is.

These abilities were naturally distilled by Ye Qin from his own experience.

Under these demonic arts, the mercenaries could only keep retreating, with more and more collapsing to the ground.

"Roar!"

The earth-shaking tiger's roar accompanied by wails drifted through the night sky; the night grew darker, the black veil overhead tinged with a bloody hue.

This one-sided slaughter was drawing to a close.

The auction house was far from other places; even if any disturbance reached the outside, others would pay it no heed.

In the Myanmar region, death is all too common; moreover, they wouldn't bother meddling.

……

Meanwhile, dozens of off-road vehicles roared past on another road, heading straight for the auction house's location!

To avoid startling the prey, the police cars stopped at a distance from the auction house; as the doors opened, countless special police leapt out swiftly.

In this law‑enforcement operation with the Myanmar region, to prevent any insider from leaking information, the focus was on being swift, precise, and ruthless, leaving the criminals no chance to react.

"This road is the only way out; you must hold this spot, not even letting a fly escape."

Zhao Guo'an then led several well-trained squads, secretly sneaking toward the location of the park, intending to catch the turtle in the jar.

"Be careful of the sniper on the watchtower; once you confirm his position, take him down immediately!"

According to the intelligence obtained earlier, the auction house is heavily guarded, even with snipers present; to avoid someone firing a cold shot from above during combat, the sniper must be eliminated first.

Sun Haonan looked at the pitch-black building not far away; the auction house side was completely dark, with no lights at all, eerily silent, and he keenly sensed a hint of suspicion.

"Captain, I feel something's off; look, there's not a glimmer of light over there."

Zhao Guo'an frowned slightly, "It's very likely they're creating doubtful formations; everyone, stay more alert and careful."

The group moved like ghosts in the dark night, quickly approaching the auction house; the watchtower was within reach, yet no one could be seen moving above.

Not to mention people, there wasn't even a ghostly shadow.

At their current distance, they were already exposed to the scouts' line of sight; there should have been some warning, yet there was absolutely no movement.

Could it be that there's no one up there?

Zhao Guo'an's confusion grew deeper and deeper.

Sun Haonan couldn't help but say, "Could it be that the auction house got some wind, knew we were coming today, and fled in advance?"

Zhao Guo'an shook his head, "Impossible."

This operation was extremely secretive; besides the high-ranking officials, no one knew, and even if the criminals had planted a mole here, it would be impossible to get wind of it so quickly.

The auction was about to take place; for this overseas antiquities smuggling syndicate, it would be a great opportunity to make a big score, and logically, these people would not flee in advance.

Unless something unexpected happened?

A deathly silence spread; the more so, Zhao Guo'an and the others felt uneasy instead, looking at the building within reach, they even slowed their steps considerably.

As the evening wind blew, it brought the lingering smell of rust; as armed police, they were naturally very familiar with this odor, and Zhao Guo'an's expression changed slightly.

"It's the smell of blood!"

(End of chapter)