Chapter Forty-Six: The Flying Nail Sand Rat

Before he could finish his sentence, a black shadow suddenly shot out from beneath the sand pile before him, lunging straight for Ji Cheng’s face. In an instant, Ji Cheng’s right hand turned a dark, steely blue, and with a deft motion, he brushed aside the shadow.

Golden points of light flickered in his left palm as a matrix activated. With a slight bend of his middle finger, he flicked out silently—a slicing cut of air.

The attacker was a bizarre rat, its body bristling with rusty screws. With a single, midair slash from “Regret,” its belly turned skyward as it crashed to the ground, an entire hind leg and some flesh shearing away from its body. Dark red blood spattered onto the sand, bubbling and frothing.

Having suffered at the hands of the Iron Ghost with Three Eyes, how could Ji Cheng pass up the chance to strike a foe while it was down?

He gave a sharp command, stepped forward, and with a swift turn of his wrist, drew a suppressed pistol from his waist. He aimed at the wounded rat and fired four rapid shots—every bullet finding its mark. The sheer force of the rounds sent the creature flying, pinning it to a nearby rock.

“What the—are you serious?” Hou Shang gasped in astonishment.

“That mutated animal was killed just like that!” Millie’s eyes were wide as saucers.

Su Yi could only gape in silent shock.

She recognized this kind of aberrant animal. According to the system of domains, orders, and classes, it was the lowest order—akin to an ordinary human. Yet its body was incredibly tough, the rusty screws embedded in its flesh as strong as chrome-alloy steel, capable of withstanding sustained fire from a 12mm vehicle-mounted machine gun.

Moreover, their blood ran at a scalding temperature—one careless splash could burn or infect. The Compendium’s advice for ability users was always to avoid, to circumvent, to never engage directly—yet Ji Cheng had slain it in a heartbeat.

How had he managed it?

“Everyone be careful. These are Flying Nail Sand Rats; they usually hunt in groups of five or six and are adept at launching surprise attacks from beneath the sand,” Ji Cheng barked, wasting no time on their amazement. “Formation 1-3-1. Light firepower, crosswise ground suppression—don’t let them surface. Prepare to deploy bromine gas.”

In survey teams, aside from the lead ability user, squads usually comprised five members. The 1-3-1 formation meant one at the front, three forming a protective line in the center, and the last sheltered at the rear.

They quickly assumed positions as Ji Cheng directed. Millie, wielding a submachine gun, moved to the frontline, firing bursts at any swelling mounds in the sand—not to kill, but to use the stopping power of the bullets to slow the mutant rats’ advance.

Su Yi, Qiao Tongtong, and Hou Shang formed a protective ring around Mou Zhi, each taking aim at positions Millie couldn’t cover.

“Bromine, bromine…” Mou Zhi, sweating profusely, rummaged frantically through his backpack. He was a bit chubby, and in his agitation, his flesh quivered with every movement.

“Hurry, they’re getting closer!” Hou Shang shouted.

“If they get near, they’ll burst out of the sand firing their nails—don’t let them close in!” Su Yi called, firing as she anxiously glanced toward Ji Cheng.

Just then, with a sudden whoosh, Ji Cheng leapt out from the formation.

He lashed out with a sweeping kick, carving an arc in the sand that exposed two sand rats attempting to sneak closer.

The two mutant rats tumbled into view, baring their teeth. One leapt at Ji Cheng, while the other half-buried itself, its beady eyes scanning with malice.

Ji Cheng took half a step back, dodging the first’s ferocious pounce. In the same motion, he twisted, his left index and middle fingers poised like a sword as he struck swiftly and subtly.

A ripple of force sliced the air—a blade unseen. The leaping rat was cleaved in two before it even landed, dead on the spot. Its blood splattered backward, tracing a seething red arc that fused the sand into glassy fragments wherever it touched.

Even the simplest, cheapest “Regret” matrix was a bona fide mechanical weapon in the Grand Galaxy. Not to mention order-level mutants—even class-level creatures struggled against its edge.

“Watch out! One’s about to ambush you!” Su Yi cried.

As Ji Cheng dispatched one rat, the other—half-buried—locked onto him.

With a sharp hiss, a red streak flashed across dozens of meters in an instant, arriving before Ji Cheng.

This was the true terror of the Flying Nail Sand Rat. The pressure inside these mutants was so great their blood reached over two thousand degrees. At will, they could vent this pressure through the nails in their backs, launching the corroded screws as deadly projectiles. They died quickly from loss of pressure, but often their foes perished first.

This particular screw fired at the exact moment Ji Cheng finished off the previous rat—when his momentum was spent, and he had yet to recover.

“He can’t dodge in time!” Su Yi’s heart leapt to her throat, her grip on her gun turning white-knuckled.

Yet Ji Cheng remained perfectly calm. With his reflexes, though he couldn’t evade, the situation was still well within his control.

Clang.

At the very instant the screw was about to strike, his right hand traced a peculiar arc. The butt of his suppressed pistol struck the rusty screw, deflecting what was meant to be a lethal shot to his heart so that it grazed harmlessly past his left arm, not even touching his sleeve.

He spun aside, deftly dodging a second red flash. The rat’s internal pressure was already spent; the second nail lacked both speed and accuracy.

Ji Cheng’s return fire was two sharp cracks—bullets hitting the rat’s skull dead on, sending it staggering and collapsing to the ground.

“Is he even human?”

Everyone stood dumbfounded at Ji Cheng’s brazen, overwhelming prowess.

“If I recall, even ability users are supposed to be cautious, seeking ways to counteract mutants—who just charges in like that?” Millie’s words carried no flattery, only genuine awe.

Dominant—utterly dominant. Such was his fighting style.

In the blink of an eye, he had taken down two sand rats and incapacitated a third. What had been a dire crisis was resolved almost single-handedly.

“This isn’t a desperate battle in the wild—it’s more like clocking in for work and heading home for dinner.”

“Stay alert; there are still a few out there.”

At last, Mou Zhi called from the rear, “Bromine is ready!”

“Release it now,” Ji Cheng ordered without hesitation.

Reddish-brown smoke billowed from Mou Zhi’s sprayer, dousing the sand ahead.

There was no specific weapon to kill the Flying Nail Sand Rats outright—bromine gas would only suffocate them and burn their mucous membranes. Yet, with their numbers devastated by Ji Cheng and faced with their most hated chemical, the remaining mutants fled without looking back.

“Is it really over?” Su Yi felt as though she were in a dream, watching the receding mounds in the sand.

“Boss handled three Flying Nail Sand Rats on his own—I barely saw it happen before they just dropped, one after another,” Millie marveled.

“Incredible,” the others echoed in awe.

Their gazes toward Ji Cheng now held a new layer of reverence. In the wild, strength was everything—everyone wanted to follow the most powerful ability user.

Normally, a squad like theirs would lose two members just in the initial encounter with sand rats—if their leader was any weaker, total annihilation was a real possibility.

But this time, they had emerged victorious with ease.

All five knew their survival hinged entirely on Ji Cheng’s extraordinary performance; with any other leader, they would likely have been left behind as a sacrifice while the ability user escaped.

After all, the real threat of aberrant animals couldn’t be judged by rank alone. Mutants like the Flying Nail Sand Rat, with no fatal weakness, were dangerous even to ability users.

That’s why an unwritten rule existed in the wild: if confronted by an unmanageable mutant, the lead ability user should retreat immediately, while the rest of the team delayed the enemy, buying time at the cost of their own lives.

Because the life of an ability user was worth ten times all of theirs combined.

By any reckoning, each of them owed Ji Cheng their life.

Ji Cheng let out a quiet breath.

Though the battle had seemed effortless, it was only thanks to his life-resonance instinct—sensing danger the moment the environment shifted, preparing in advance, and wielding the edge of “Regret” to dispatch two rats in succession, breaking their coordinated assault. Had he not, with such monsters attacking in packs and from all directions, even he would have struggled.

“Let’s go. Move on.”