Chapter 87: Hunting (Third Update, Thank You All)

Lu Mi immediately turned and sprinted away as soon as he confirmed the situation.

The environment here offered no advantage, and he had no idea what abilities the “Smith” monster possessed—what else could he do but run?

Once he reached the nearest natural trap and the opponent kept chasing, he’d consider launching a counterattack.

Thud-thud-thud!

Lu Mi didn’t run in a straight line; he zigzagged like a snake, forming an “S” shape.

He feared the opponent could predict his movement path and hurl fireballs or ranged weapons.

In the past, Lu Mi could run in curves, but at certain moments he needed to significantly slow down and reduce inertia—or else his body couldn’t withstand it, or he’d likely fall.

But now was different: his flexibility was extremely strong, far beyond normal humans; his muscles and tendons effortlessly pulled his body through a half-turn, the arc perfectly smooth.

With this skill, he believed that as long as the “Smith” monster lacked special abilities, he could successfully escape the “wall” zone and enter the ruins just seven or eight meters away.

Suddenly, his heart tightened with a strong sense of danger.

Without overthinking or analyzing, Lu Mi tumbled forward along the momentum of his run.

A sharp hiss—he felt pain across his back as the sinister silver-black dagger slashed a gash, spilling bright red blood.

The “Smith” monster had closed the distance in a single step, swinging its weapon.

It had compressed dozens of steps into one!

Ignoring the pain, Lu Mi rolled twice more until his body touched the edge of a half-collapsed building.

He pushed off with both hands and shot inside, using the walls and furniture for cover as he dashed out the back door.

Back in this area, he was like a tiger entering deep mountains, a trout returning to a river—moving skillfully through the ruins, sometimes circling, sometimes sprinting straight.

In barely ten seconds, he reached the natural trap he’d previously observed, hiding behind the fallen roof, waiting for the “Smith” monster to arrive.

He didn’t attempt the ritual dance—he felt it would be too late; the opponent clearly possessed some unique pursuit ability.

Time ticked away second by second; Lu Mi saw no sign of the “Smith” monster, heard no approaching sound, and detected no unfamiliar footprints.

“Didn’t follow?” Lu Mi couldn’t help frowning.

He was relieved, yet found the situation odd.

After pondering, he guessed the “Smith” monster couldn’t leave the “wall” zone—so once he entered the ruins, the monster gave up chasing.

Considering he’d already suffered two wounds and was now exhausted, Lu Mi decided against further exploration.

Using his terrifying flexibility, he treated the wound on his back and walked back along his original path toward the edge of the ruins.

After walking a long time, he noticed the collapsed buildings around him looked familiar—and suddenly felt something was wrong:

“It’s been longer than a meal’s time. The dream ruins aren’t especially large—I walked straight—how come I still haven’t gotten out?”

The more Lu Mi thought, the stranger it felt; he even noticed his thoughts growing sluggish, fragmented, as if sinking into extreme fatigue—or nearing sleep.

He snapped himself awake, using his “Hunter” ability to identify paths, hoping to escape the ruins quickly.

But during his walk, he kept slipping into uncontrollable daze—until finally, he no longer knew what he was doing.

After an indeterminate time, Lu Mi’s eyes suddenly reflected flickering orange-yellow flames.

He had returned to the “wall” zone, outside the room where the “Smith” monster resided.

“No good…”

“Did it… influence me?”

“No wonder it… didn’t chase…”

“Looks like I can’t force my way out—I must find a way… through that monster…”

Lu Mi’s thoughts grew increasingly dull and sluggish.

As he moved involuntarily closer to the room, he struggled to perform the mysterious ritual dance.

Since he had to confront the “Smith” monster, his greatest asset was the black thorn symbol on his chest—he had to activate it quickly!

Amidst clanging, disjointed motions, Lu Mi saw the door glowing orange-yellow swing open—the monster, clad in a black robe, wielding the silver-black dagger and iron hammer, appeared at the threshold.

Unlike before, the rotting marks on its face had faded; wounds exposing bone now sprouted fresh flesh.

Its eyeballs had regained vitality, fixed on Lu Mi with unmistakable greed and amusement.

It now looked more human than an undead corpse.

At the same time, Lu Mi saw his own reflection in the window:

His face was pale with a bluish tint, eyes vacant and dull, patches of his skin showing signs of decay.

He now looked more like an undead corpse than a human.

In an instant, Lu Mi understood:

“I will… replace… that ‘monster.’ It will… walk out… as a human…”

Not knowing what power had affected him or when the anomaly began, Lu Mi had only one thought: finish the dance, half-activate the black thorn symbol on his chest, and make one final gamble.

He moved slowly but firmly into the dance steps; the “Smith” monster made no move to attack, seemingly waiting patiently for the final outcome, fearing any extra action might alter its own fate.

Inch by inch, step by step, Lu Mi’s vision blurred further—he only knew the “Smith” monster’s smile grew wider, its form increasingly human.

After advancing further, Lu Mi’s mind rang with a sudden “hum.”

He heard a terrifying voice—seemingly from infinite distance, yet unnervingly close.

It was unclear, illusory—only enough to confuse his mind, without inducing a near-death experience.

Amidst this confusion, Lu Mi’s thoughts suddenly sharpened, his vision returned to normal.

He felt searing heat on his chest—he knew the black thorn symbol had been half-activated.

Almost simultaneously, he saw the “Smith” monster’s smile freeze.

One by one, fleshy tumors swelled on the monster’s face, scalp, and backs of its hands—all silver-white with streaks of black.

The sinister dagger in its hand vibrated violently, trembling as if in agony.

Crack!

With a metallic snap, a deep fissure appeared across the surface of the silver-black dagger, etched with sinister patterns.

The “Smith” monster collapsed instantly, dissolving into a pile of silver-white tumors streaked with black, and writhing worms crawling over the black robe.

The worms and tumors soon ceased expanding and contracting, reverting to lumps of grayish-white flesh.

Lu Mi stared blankly at the scene, feeling as if his enemy had suddenly committed suicide while holding him helpless.

After a few seconds, he chuckled in puzzlement at the lumps of flesh:

“You dragged me here… just so I could perform your funeral rites?”

“You should’ve said so earlier—no need for all this trouble. I’d have cheered and clapped!”

He stepped closer to the pile of flesh the “Smith” monster had become and began examining it carefully.

He found no other abnormalities—only the slightly cracked silver-black dagger still trembled faintly, like a wounded animal sensing a predator.

Lu Mi’s heart stirred; he glanced down at his left chest, as if seeing through his clothes the black thorn symbol.

He understood—he reached out his right hand and seized the silver-black dagger.

The sinister blade trembled even more violently—but offered no struggle or resistance, utterly “docile.”

The moment he gripped it, the heat on his chest intensified.

He felt a trickle of something leaking out, resonating with the silver-black dagger.

Amidst a metallic “hum,” Lu Mi’s mind gained new knowledge—about the sinister dagger:

It was a supernatural weapon, severely corrupted, gaining power and acquiring slight living traits.

In other words, Lu Mi hadn’t encountered the “Smith” monster—he’d encountered the dagger. The “Smith” monster was merely its puppet, or “blade-bearer.”

It could gradually turn most living beings who touched its flesh into undead corpses, stripping them of selfhood, forcing them to forever wield it and act according to its will.

Those wounded by it, who bled, had a portion of their fate stolen through exchange.

During this exchange, it could inflict no further harm upon the target.

Just now, it had exchanged the fate of the “Smith” monster as a puppet for Lu Mi’s fate of escaping the wasteland as a human.

If no suitable fate was available for exchange, it had to kill the target outright to peel off a portion of their fate and store it within the blade.

This ability originated from Sequence 5 of the “Dancer”—the “Fate Hunter”!

Thus, when Lu Mi’s internal corruption was half-activated, it resonated with the dagger through flesh contact, leaking fragments of knowledge.

Without this, he’d have needed others to divine or analyze the patterns to learn the dagger’s abilities—or rely on repeated trials to gather information.

After organizing the new knowledge in his mind, Lu Mi looked at the trembling dagger in his hand and chuckled:

“I don’t mind you taking a piece of my fate—but you’d better be able to handle it!”

“If you could swap away my fate of being trapped in this time loop, I’d kneel and kowtow three times.”

“Tsk. Hunting any fate at all will only destroy you.”

The silver-black dagger trembled but offered no reply.

Lu Mi now understood why it was so obedient:

First, the positional suppression from the half-activated black thorn symbol; second, the recent encounter had left psychological trauma on this living supernatural weapon.

He exhaled, then spoke to the sinister dagger:

“From today on, your name is ‘Fate-Hunting Blade.’ Simple and clear, right?”

The silver-black dagger bobbed up and down twice, as if nodding.

“Pity—you’re just a supernatural weapon. Your power will gradually fade. Originally, you’d last two years; now, after this unwise injury, you’ll only hold out for half a year.” Lu Mi said with regret.

In truth, he could use rituals to draw power from his internal corruption to replenish the “Fate-Hunting Blade”—but only if he could find someone to repair the crack.

As soon as he finished speaking, Lu Mi felt the heat on his chest rapidly vanish.

The minute was up.

Without hesitation, he hurled the “Fate-Hunting Blade” away—as if it were a burning coal.

PS: Third update, begging for monthly votes~ Okay, this round of extra updates ends here; there should be another round this month, but I can’t say exactly when—it depends on the plot progress.

(End of Chapter)