Chapter 11: Full Father

The room fell silent, save for the sound of the news broadcast from the television.

"'Master of Worms' is a term used by ignorant fools. For us, blood kin on the Path of Evolution, the correct title is Full Father—the Omniscient, Omnipotent, Supreme Authority, Full Father."

The man finished speaking, raising a hand to his temple—the stone had shattered his temple, and from the massive wound oozed not blood, but pale, viscous cavity fluid.

Path of Evolution's blood kin? Does that mean the Infected by the Master of Worms?

Are there so many such people that they can form secret societies and engage in religious superstition?

Li Cheng's mind raced furiously; he muttered low, "Full Father? It's the twenty-first century—how can anyone still use such feudal, patriarchal terminology? It makes me tremble all over, drenched in cold sweat despite the heat, tears streaming helplessly down my face—this society is saturated with oppression against the Infected; when will the Infected ever truly rise up?"

???

The black-clad man's sudden outburst froze the atmosphere in the living room.

"You have not yet liberated your mind—you cannot hear the call within your blood."

The man rose slowly; the chair scraped backward, its legs groaning against the floor. "It doesn't matter. You simply need a little help."

The instant he spoke the word "help," the man flung open his jaws and lunged forward, while his left arm suddenly elongated like a whip, slashing sideways.

Li Cheng did not dodge or retreat—he stamped his left foot, closed the distance, drew his right fist back, then punched forward like a cannonball into the man's chest.

Crack—crack—

The sound of snapping ribs came rapid as popping beans; Li Cheng turned his fist into a palm, thrusting upward at an angle, his hand clamping the man's throat, his thumb locking under the jaw, then slamming the man's head hard against the edge of the wooden dining table.

Thud!

The man's mandible shattered, teeth flying, the masseter muscles connecting his jaw snapping instantly, leaving his lower jaw dislocated and hanging limp.

Not stopping there, Li Cheng's left arm suddenly erupted with a mantis-arm bone blade, rising from below like a fisherman hauling moonlight from the sea, slicing toward the woman's serpentine, elongated neck.

The bone blade was razor-sharp; even as the woman twisted away, it left a long gash across her neck, spraying forth a torrent of cavity fluid.

The coiled length of her neck loosened; the brother and sister, who had been strangled and nearly suffocated, finally gasped for air.

Li Cheng moved swiftly, grabbing both children by the neck, yanking them free and hurling them toward their parents' bedroom, then whispering low, "Close the door."

Those words echoed like thunder in Xiao An's mind; he forgot his aching body, scrambled to his feet, half-crawling, half-colliding as he slammed the door shut, locked it, then dragged his sister under the bed.

Seeing the "hostages" escape, the woman shrieked, elongating her neck and hurling her head like a projectile at Li Cheng.

Thwack!

Li Cheng seized her hair, twisted it around his fist, yanked her head back hard, and smashed it onto the table.

The battered wooden dining table finally gave way—both legs snapped on the spot.

As the tabletop tilted, every porcelain plate and bowl crashed to the floor, shattering into a clattering heap.

Shhh—

The man's right arm, lying limp on the floor, suddenly snapped upward, lunging at Li Cheng.

As another Infected by the Master of Worms, his vitality was unnaturally resilient—even with his jaw shattered, he retained full combat capability.

Li Cheng instantly released his right hand, stepping back half a pace to evade.

The freed man immediately regained his stance, replicating the same move—extending his left leg like a whip, hooking Li Cheng's right ankle, then yanking hard, flinging him toward the right wall of the living room.

His spine slammed into the wall; searing pain shot into his brain. Adrenaline surged automatically—his breathing quickened, his heartbeat and blood flow accelerated, his pupils dilated involuntarily.

Just like that night his throat was slit, the experience of hovering on the edge of life and death did not plunge Li Cheng into panic—it was as if a switch had been flipped.

His mind was utterly calm, coldly gathering information, assessing the situation, planning strategies, calculating feasibility.

In some unseen way, he gained insight.

Everyone has strengths: some are born to swim or play soccer, some to read expressions, some to compose music.

Li Cheng's talent may be his ability to remain calm and clear-headed even under such circumstances.

His center of gravity shifted forward, his thighs bent, his tendons compressed—the mantis-arm bone blade poised to strike.

Li Cheng kicked off the wall and lunged like a tiger descending the mountain, slashing toward the man's neck.

The man frantically tilted his head back and raised his arm to block—but under the force of weight multiplied by speed, the bone blade cut through like a hot knife through butter, severing his entire left arm along with the scapula.

At the brink of death, the man unleashed all his strength—his left leg elongated like a serpent, whipping out to fling Li Cheng far away, hurling him toward the balcony.

The sensation of weightlessness returned; Li Cheng instantly shifted tactics, driving his right-arm bone blade into the sofa, slicing through the foam to slow his momentum slightly.

Simultaneously, his left palm slammed the floor, using the recoil to perform a fish-leap motion and regain his standing posture. Then, with a single slash of his right-arm bone blade, he severed the bindings on his injured leg.

Unimpeded, Li Cheng surged forward, accelerating into a knee strike that smashed into the man's chest, driving him deep into the wall and shaking the landscape painting from its hook.

The man's lower jaw had fully detached; his eyes widened to their limits, and with his remaining right arm, he clamped tightly around Li Cheng's neck and right hand, contracting with all his might.

Li Cheng's eyes involuntarily filled with blood. He planted his feet, expressionless, drew his left fist back, then punched forward.

The muscle burst power from the grass-paved ant gene erupted fully—his fist crushed the man's nasal bridge, drove into his skull, and the immense impact caused both eyeballs to explode outward.

The elongated arm strangling his neck suddenly went limp.

Li Cheng silently retracted his fist; in his bloodshot vision, he saw three red blood-amber stones fall from the man's split skull.

"Aaaah—"

Behind him, the woman let out a piercing shriek, elongating her neck and hurling her head like a meteor hammer.

Li Cheng barely managed to twist his body sideways and raised his elbow to brace for impact.

Thud!

He was slammed into the wall surface; the wallpaper split open, revealing the white paint beneath.

The shrieking continued; the woman, frenzied, slammed her head forward again—but Li Cheng had recovered.

He raised both arms; two bone blades angled downward, stabbing deep into either side of her neck the instant her head came crashing in, then yanking hard—severing her head.

The grotesque head rolled on the floor, soaking in a ring of dust and braised pork rib broth; from its severed stump, three more blood-amber stones tumbled out.

(End of Chapter)