Chapter 134: Helpers

Ye Chen realized that although this method of sudden assault had a chance of inflicting heavy damage on his opponent, the mid-range extension of his blade consumed too much internal energy. At this rate, he might collapse from exhaustion before his opponent even went down.

Having realized this, he decisively closed the distance once more. As the bone spear swung toward him, Ye Chen ducked, rose, and stepped forward in a standard Iron Mountain Lean, leading with his uninjured shoulder.

"Bang!"

It was incredibly hard, and his shoulder burned with pain, but it was endurable. Immediately following through, Ye Chen launched himself into the air, driving a knee strike straight into the white monster’s chest to disrupt its attack rhythm. He then pressed his hand firmly against the creature’s forehead, pulling his bruised lips into a grim smile that left the hollow-eyed skull momentarily stunned.

"In terms of defensive power and raw destruction, you are certainly impressive," Ye Chen thought, offering an objective assessment in the heat of battle. "But when it comes to combat literacy, you are far behind me... Based on the timing of those bone spurs emerging from your back earlier, I can deduce that even if I let you get close, and even if your entire suit of armor can serve as a weapon, there is still a time gap. That is the opening I need."

"Fancy ideas can indeed spawn flashy techniques and provide periodic boosts to one's combat power, but real-world experience is sometimes more practical."

"Squelch!"

Before the thought could fully form, he plunged his broken blade directly into the skull's eye socket.

"This is your greatest weakness! If you had been wearing this skull mask when you first appeared, I might have assumed there was nothing inside your head. But you went out of your way to perform the act of putting it on, so forgive me, but behind that mask lies your本体's greatest vulnerability—your brain!"

"Ah... Ah!"

A shrill, agonizing sound erupted from behind the mask—the desperate, defiant roar of a beast in its final throes of death. Ye Chen condensed an invisible blade of energy, piercing straight into the brain. He gripped the hilt tightly and twisted it violently several times within the eye socket, turning the contents into a pulp. Red and white matter oozed along the blade, eventually revealing the shape of the weapon.

The agonizing cries ceased abruptly. The massive white frame toppled backward, hitting the ground with a thud, dead beyond all doubt. The white bone armor grew brittle, crumbling into powder and turning into a pile of ashes. Beneath the remains lay the face of a man nearing sixty, his previously fluffy black hair now streaked with countless strands of silver.

Ye Chen felt a flicker of confusion, but winning was all that mattered. What he did not know was that this single battle had cost the younger brother, Ma Tupai, nearly ten years of his life.

...

In the rearview mirror, Ma Tupeng’s face was etched with disbelief; his pupils dilated, nearly losing focus. *My brother? My brother, a C-rank awakened, has fallen just like that? Impossible, absolutely impossible...*

He scrambled out of the car, clutching a candy jar in one hand and a sharp blade in the other. Emerging with him were the eight children from the vehicle, each holding a small knife. The children formed a circle around Ma Tupeng, their blades held uniformly against their own throats. They remained under control, acting as eight obedient, autonomous hostages. Before setting out that evening, he had fed each child another candy to ensure the effects of the drug persisted. This was his final trump card; as long as he held the children, he could use them as leverage to force the crowd to clear a path.

Seeing the enemy’s strongest fighter fall, the crowd gathered in the street began to swell. People emerged from side alleys and houses, forming a larger perimeter that trapped Ma Tupeng, gradually closing in. When parents spotted their missing children, tears of relief and anguish burst forth, and they began calling out their names incessantly. But the children’s cold, hollow expressions and the gleaming blades pressed against their vitals were like daggers to the parents' hearts.

Ma Tupeng trembled as he approached his fallen brother. He had hoped his brother was merely injured and could still be saved, until he saw the bloody crater where the eye had been, the pool of blood spreading across the ground, and the chest that had ceased its rhythmic rise and fall.

"Ah... You killed my brother!"

Countless memories flashed through his mind: the dozen years spent raising his brother through hardship, the boy’s sensible and obedient smiles, and the image of his brother stepping forward to fight on his behalf without regard for the toll on his lifespan. The pain of witnessing his beloved brother's death drowned out his last shred of reason, aging him several years in a single instant. Then, fury surged like wildfire, boiling his blood and rushing to his brain.

"Die! You all deserve to die, and these children deserve to die too!"

Having lost his sanity, the older brother abandoned all thoughts of escape; what meaning was there in living on in misery? Consumed by despair, he chose to drag as many people as possible to the grave with him.

"No... don't hurt my child!"
"Stay calm, stay calm! Stop what you're doing, let's talk this out."
"Quick, find a way to stop him!"

...

The frantic cries of the crowd rose and fell. Anyone could see that the man was hysterical and determined to commit suicide-murder. At the critical moment, a roar like a thunderclap exploded through the crowd.

"WAKE UP!!!"

The sound wave rolled outward, as if visible ripples were spreading from the one who shouted. The sudden blast caused those nearby to collapse in a faint, while those further away reflexively covered their ears in agony. The children, previously devoid of consciousness, were jolted awake.

"Clatter, clatter." The blades fell to the ground.

The awakened children stared at the knives that had been pressed against their throats in bewilderment, then scrambled away in terror. Ye Chen was among the first to recover from the sonic impact. Seeing the children snap out of their trance, he shouted, "Run! Run! Scatter and run!"

Just then, Ma Tupeng, having shaken off his dizziness, grabbed the slowest child—the little girl Danzai—and hoisted her up, holding a blade to her neck. She was his last hostage!

Ye Chen cursed under his breath, preparing to launch another sudden assault. But the wretched Ma Tupeng used the girl as a shield, guarding his head, neck, and chest. Ye Chen hesitated... *I cannot guarantee I can subdue him in one strike; the slightest deviation will hurt Danzai. Where should I strike?*

Several thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning. *Wait! What is he holding? A candy box! The awakened artifact—the candy box. If I destroy the artifact, the awakened should suffer a massive backlash, right? That must be it...* he guessed, despite his lack of formal academic training.

*Screw it, I’ll take the gamble!!!*

But just as he prepared to place his bet, someone else made the choice for him...