Chapter 23: The Wisdom of Combat

Lu Mi’s spirit became utterly focused.

When the moment truly arrived, he was no longer as terrified as before; though his body still trembled slightly, at least the feeling of imminent collapse had vanished.

“I should have died five years ago. Thanks to Aurora, I’ve lived this long—I’ve already gained five extra years. What’s there to fear?” Lu Mi gritted his teeth, bolstering himself internally.

The next instant, he saw the faint light above the surface of the first trap grow even dimmer.

A figure appeared beside it, blocking the faint rays piercing through the thick high-altitude mist.

The figure was the beast-man hybrid, carrying a hunting rifle, its blood-red eyes sweeping the ground as its bent “knees” curled upward.

Just a breath later, it removed the rifle, leapt into the air, and cleared the trap entirely while controlling its height, landing on the solid yet cracked ground.

Almost simultaneously, it turned its head, draped in greasy black hair, toward the spot where faint movement had occurred.

Then it saw Lu Mi—face pale with panic, scrambling to his feet, trying to duck behind the wall.

With a low growl, the monster leapt high again, lunging for its target.

It locked onto the position slightly outside where Lu Mi had been, avoiding the risk of the opponent turning around and striking while it was still unsteady.

Lu Mi vanished beside the wall, crawling and lunging in equal measure.

The moment the monster landed, the soil beneath its feet collapsed under its weight.

With no purchase to push off, it tumbled down with the soil and netting into the sudden pit below.

Thud!

The sound of a heavy object striking ground echoed, mixed with a scream like a dying rat.

Lu Mi, hidden behind the wall, witnessed this and felt an overwhelming surge of joy he could not suppress.

The first step succeeded!

This instantly drained most of his lingering fear; he snatched up the steel fork beside him and rushed toward the trap.

The tenacious vitality of the previous skinless monster had left a strong impression on him, and now the target still carried a rifle, so he did not expose his body above the pit—he stopped at a distance and began stabbing wildly into it with the fork.

Suddenly, the fork grew heavy and stopped.

Then, immense force traveled up the fork, yanking Lu Mi violently toward the pit.

Caught off guard, Lu Mi slid forward a step.

Without pausing to observe the pit’s depths, he dropped the fork, spun his body, and flung himself sideways toward the uncollapsed wall.

Bang!

His back slammed hard, as if struck by a giant hammer.

Lu Mi’s throat turned sweet, and a distinct metallic taste surged upward.

He landed with a thud, lost his balance, rolled several times, then regained control of his body and rose to his feet.

Almost at once, he saw the beast-man hybrid leap out of the pit.

It held its single-barreled rifle, its jacket torn open across the chest and abdomen, revealing several grotesque, penetrating wounds—dark red blood mixed with pale yellow fluid poured steadily out, with internal organs faintly visible inside.

Clearly, the monster had been severely wounded by Lu Mi’s trap, but it had not yet lost its fighting capacity.

During its fall into the pit, it must have adjusted its posture in time, avoiding vital areas like head and chest, and sparing its limbs from serious injury—otherwise, it likely wouldn’t have been able to leap out at all.

The moment Lu Mi saw its condition, he bolted without hesitation into the nearby ruins of a house.

This wasn’t an impulsive decision—it had been planned in advance.

After all, he hadn’t been sure whether the trap would even catch the monster, or if it could incapacitate it outright.

If it only wounded the monster, Lu Mi planned to play a game of “hide-and-seek” next.

That meant using the environment to evade and harass, prolonging the fight as long as possible until the monster could no longer suppress its injuries, until its strength and reflexes visibly declined.

Then, the opportunity would come.

Bang!

Another gunshot rang out; lead pellets struck the ground where Lu Mi had stood, kicking up a little dirt.

Lu Mi, crouched behind the half-collapsed wall, didn’t pause—he crawled through the rubble’s gaps on hands and knees to the other side.

Before he could rise, he heard wind rushing through the air above.

The monster had jumped over.

Lu Mi immediately spun around and crawled back through the same gap to the other side of the half-collapsed wall.

Thus, using the abundance of collapsed structures around him, he dodged, hid, circled, never engaging directly—only evading attacks.

“Hide-and-seek” was Lu Mi’s strength.

In the past, after many pranks, he’d escaped being beaten on the spot precisely because of this skill.

As the monster chased, he fled, as it attacked, he dodged—time flew by. Lu Mi himself began breathing heavily, while the monster’s running speed, jumping height, strength, and reflexes all clearly weakened.

“Just a little longer, just a little longer—I still can’t beat it now…” Lu Mi retreated again to his previous position, back pressed against the half-collapsed wall, forcing himself to suppress the urge to strike back.

Bang! His back throbbed again, and he was flung forward.

The half-collapsed wall behind him shattered, stones flying, and collapsed completely.

This time, the monster no longer chose to detour—it turned sideways and slammed its body hard against the obstacles blocking its path.

Under full force, the already unstable half-collapsed wall naturally couldn’t hold.

But the monster also spilled even more blood, staining the ground dark red.

Though Lu Mi hadn’t anticipated being “bumped” this way, his injuries weren’t severe, and his reflexes were fast enough—he rolled with the impact and ducked behind a pile of rubble.

Bang!

The follow-up rifle shot arrived a fraction too late.

—After smashing the wall, the monster took noticeably longer to adjust its posture than before.

It patted the cloth bag hanging at its waist, saw the bullets were gone, then casually dropped the rifle and lunged straight toward Lu Mi’s position.

Lu Mi had already moved, continuing his game of hide-and-seek.

Of course, he didn’t dare play it too long—fearing that if the monster’s injuries worsened, it might collapse, or worse, that other monsters would come drawn by the noise.

After circling a few more times, Lu Mi sharply noticed the monster’s movements had become labored.

“Opportunity!”

His mind sparked—he feigned fleeing toward the side of a collapsed building.

Then he stopped, drew the axe strapped to his back, and adjusted his breathing.

In the blink of an eye, the monster rounded the corner and appeared before Lu Mi.

Lu Mi acted instantly—while the monster hadn’t yet fully registered the scene, he charged forward, axe in hand.

He stepped forward, turned his body, lowered his shoulder, preparing to use his sister’s taught “shoulder-ram” technique to shove the monster back, then follow with a downward axe swing at its neck.

Bang!

Lu Mi slipped between the monster’s arms and slammed his shoulder hard into its chest.

But the reaction defied his expectations—the monster felt like a solid wall, utterly immovable!

“This…” Lu Mi’s heart tightened; he used the rebound to flip backward, aiming to hit the ground and escape the monster’s reach.

At that moment, the monster’s hand shot out like lightning, gripping his throat.

Its condition showed no sign of weakness at all!

“Damn—I was tricked!” Lu Mi’s throat burned with pain as the monster lifted him into the air, dangling him.

A grating sound followed; his head rapidly grew dizzy.

The axe he’d swung in desperation missed its target and clattered to the side.

Lu Mi finally understood—he’d been deceived.

The monster was truly near death, but still had one final fight left in it. It feigned weakness to lure him into attacking, to stop hiding—and Lu Mi, underestimating its combat wisdom, had never considered this possibility, and now found himself in a desperate, dying struggle.

The monster was truly at its limit—it couldn’t crush Lu Mi’s neck outright, but that didn’t change the overall situation; it would just take a little longer.

As his neck neared snapping, breath failing, Lu Mi’s mind grew numb, nearly blank.

Blank.

On the brink of death, Lu Mi suddenly remembered the woman’s words:

She told him to use his unique qualities within this dream.

Unique qualities… With his thoughts nearly empty, free of distraction, Lu Mi immediately began meditation.

The crimson sun instantly emerged in his mind.

Unlike before, when he used meditation to calm his emotions and made the sun vanish the moment it formed, he now forced himself to keep it present.

Soon, a voice—seeming to come from infinite heights yet ringing directly in his ears—pierced Lu Mi’s skull.

Intense pain followed, accompanied by the terrifying sensation that his heart might burst from his chest—so overwhelming that Lu Mi forgot his throat was being crushed, that his bones were about to shatter, that he could no longer breathe, that his brain was starved of oxygen.

Thud—he fell to the ground.

The meditation broke; the incomprehensible voice vanished.

But Lu Mi still suffered unbearably—he couldn’t even check his body’s condition or assess his surroundings.

After an indeterminate time, he finally recovered from the near-death sensation.

Lu Mi didn’t bother checking his neck—he pushed himself up with both hands, lifted his head, and stared ahead.

The beast-man hybrid crouched nearby, arms stretched forward, head bowed.

Its multiple penetrating wounds still dripped dark red blood mixed with pale yellow fluid; its body trembled uncontrollably.

What happened to it? Did my display of that “special” ability shock it into paralysis? Lu Mi gathered his thoughts, picked up the axe beside him, and stepped closer.

He gave the monster no chance to recover—he gripped the axe with both hands and swung it hard at the back of its neck.

Thud—the axe sank deep into muscle, then struck bone and halted.

Lu Mi gritted his teeth, yanked the blade free, and swung again.

Once, twice, three times—the monster’s head, spattering fluid, thudded to the ground and rolled lazily to the side.

Its body held for another second before collapsing with a crash.

Throughout the entire process, it made no resistance, trembling in place the whole time.

The next moment, Lu Mi bent forward, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, letting the blood on the axe drip steadily away.

Huff, huff, huff—he could finally breathe again.

(End of Chapter)