Chapter 228: Spoils

Inside the gelatinous core were hard bones, and Bai Lang knew with a twist of his finger that they were large human bones. He immediately applied force to break them, then tore, and the monster's forearm was ripped off at once. A foul stench filled the battlefield, and Bai Lang frowned, nauseated to the point of wanting to vomit.

When the qi surge activated, Bai Lang almost peeled off a layer of skin from his hand, but ultimately he shook off the slime. Wind blades were ineffective against the monster, a fact Bai Lang already knew; their tough hide could not be pierced even by Gatling bullets, and a wind blade only left an indentation that soon healed.

What valuable items are on this monster's body? Sorry, Bai Lang is neither a scavenger scientist nor a biologist, so he has no idea what, besides the spray gun and flame thrower in its hands, might be valuable—perhaps its tough hide is worth something?

Since it's a humanoid monster, its head is probably a weak point; the sight is too disgusting, and Bai Lang decides a single killing strike is best. The mighty White Tiger Warrior leapt into the air, his body turning into a fierce tiger, lunged at the steam truck, and with a swipe tore off a steel plate.

All the rivets were blasted out by the force, so Bai Lang actually tore off an intact piece of plate—actually ripping steel like paper is a bit too strenuous. Just enough will do. Bai Lang twisted his body in the air, like a huge cat.

Then he thrust a kick, sending the steam truck, weighing over ten tons, sliding sideways for several meters, leaving deep tracks on the ground—at that moment the tank had just rotated its turret and fired a shell. The shell struck the truck, exploding at zero distance on the truck's hull.

The steam truck was blown half off, and the tank's barrel was left broken. Bai Lang ignored it, twisted in the air, extended his leg, and planted a foot on the steel plate; the powerful force kicked a dent into the plate, making the whole plate look like a huge shoe sole wrapped around his foot.

"Southern Dipper Prison Slaughter Fist!" Bai Lang's whole body surged with power, and a foot, bearing the steel plate, struck the head of the one‑armed monster. It sounded like a bell being struck, and with a massive roar the monster's head was knocked off.

It looked as if the neck had been suddenly stretched; the tough hide held the force tightly, preventing the head from separating. Yet the shape of the head was unmistakably shattered, and the neck was broken. If there was a brain inside, it had already turned into a mushy puddle.

The gas mask was surprisingly sturdy; a strike to the back of the head didn't damage it, though the force did send it flying. Unfortunately the face beneath was already torn, a mess of slime, and Bai Lang didn't want to know what it originally looked like.

The monster didn't fall; instead it aimed its weapon at Bai Lang, and the other two monsters also fired at him, but because Bai Lang stood between them, the flame thrower didn't activate. "Are they afraid of fire?" Bai Lang had just tried to snatch a flame thrower, and the monster he kicked fell down.

The steel plate was embedded where the head should have been, covered in foul slime, swinging at the monster's chest. "It seems my guess was right, but these monsters have strong vitality; even with a smashed head they can still move for a while."

The monster's small cannon‑like sprayer failed to hit Bai Lang; he planned to replicate the method to get a steel plate from the truck—so he wouldn't stay covered in stench. He would shield with the steel plate and then kick those monsters to death.

The tank could no longer fire; after its muzzle malfunctioned it attempted another shot, this time a catastrophic explosion that blew out most of the barrel, and the tank rattled for a while before suddenly shaking, and finally the turret cover flew into the air amid the violent blast.

Not only the turret cover, but the rivets that fastened the armor to the whole turret were ejected like Gatling bullets. The turret itself bulged and twisted, eventually splitting apart and falling off the chassis.

A towering column of fire erupted from the hull, and soon the central coal bunker ignited, causing the entire tank to halt and glow red‑hot. Bai Lang was momentarily stunned, then quickly seized an opening and kicked a monster; the force was a lifting thrust, like a catapult—the monster arced low and short, landing precisely on the burning tank.

The other monster followed suit a few seconds later.

The monsters aren't hard to deal with, at least once their abilities are understood, they're manageable for Bai Lang. Flames indeed work well against them—though their hide appears fire‑resistant, they are carrying flame throwers after all.

Amid the violent explosion, the two monsters were completely engulfed in flame, and Bai Lang's toe flicked swiftly through the fire; his hands sliced the "hide" on the backs of the monsters. The flames then entered through the cuts, truly igniting the two monsters.

Bai Lang swept past the two monsters, consigning them to the flames, and then smashed the last steam truck's punching machine. The battlefield has now quieted, save for the crackling of burning flames and the creaking of heated steel plates.

Bai Lang stood before the first monster he had killed; after its death the monster quickly melted away, its foul fluid foaming and continuously oozing from the severed arm wound Bai Lang had made. Soon the once "robust" monster became a skin‑and‑bone husk, and both flesh and bone seemed to melt.

The foul fluid's smell turned sour, then acrid, and finally drifted away with the wind. Bai Lang watched the monster dissolve completely in its own fluid, which eventually seemed to become water. The once foul slime on the steel plate also turned to water, though no one would dare drink it.

All that remained on the ground were weapons—the monsters' weapons and the fallen mask—and on the burning tank wreckage the two monsters' bodies had become flattened skins, animated by the hot air of the flames—its fireproof ability was indeed strong; temperatures of over a thousand degrees reddened and softened the tank's steel plates, yet this skin was unharmed.

This must be the valuable item, I guess.

Two skins plus a gas mask filled Bai Lang's pack, leaving the weapons to be carried separately; Bai Lang set off on the road back—though he didn't anticipate any special changes upon returning, and of course he still didn't know that someone else had arrived in this world and caused trouble.