Chapter Fifty-Six: The E-Class Beast (III)

All the mercenaries stared at Alice in astonishment, even Old White's eyes were filled with disbelief. Despite being her biological father, not even he had known that Alice possessed such formidable psychic abilities.

Though Rice was equally stunned, he understood far better that hesitation could mean death. The beasts had to be dealt with swiftly.

He broke into a sprint, shouting as he ran, "Hold your fire unless absolutely necessary—we don't want to draw more of them! Old White, give me a hand!"

Old White drew the blade at his waist—"The Reaper"—and charged forward alongside him.

Flames erupted from Rice's clenched fists. With a powerful swing, a surge of fire surged out, engulfing a mutated wildcat. Within seconds, its fur ignited, releasing a pungent stench as it burned.

Old White struck mercilessly, his blade cleaving through the skull of another creature with a sickening crack, nearly severing it in two.

Their brutal efficiency was owed entirely to Alice. Without her psychic hold immobilizing the F-class beasts, neither man could have gotten so close unscathed.

But Xiao Feng's focus wasn't on the slaughter below. His vigilant gaze was fixed upon a window in the church's upper loft—behind the glass, bathed in moonlight, lurked a shadow.

A silent silhouette stood motionless, as if sculpted from darkness itself. Though his eyes could pierce the gloom, they lacked the precision of Alice's cybernetic sight.

He raised his sniper rifle—Blood Ghost—and aimed carefully.

Then he saw it: a monstrous figure cloaked in sable fur, its eyes glinting like obsidian, empty of pupils, hauntingly blind. It resembled a bipedal lemur—if a lemur could grin with a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth.

Xiao Feng had seen E-class beasts before. Their most defining trait was their ability to stand upright like humans, a sign of their advancing intelligence and evolutionary ascent.

This beast matched the description perfectly.

With a thunderous crack, the Blood Ghost discharged a bullet, the muzzle flash slicing the darkness. But even as the shot rang out, the creature lunged from the window, and the bullet sank into its abdomen.

Only then did Xiao Feng realize—it wasn't a lemur at all.

Wings, vast and fleshy, unfolded like veils of night, stretching more than five meters across. With a few beats, it took to the sky, gliding with eerie grace and impossible speed.

"A giant bat!"

"An E-class bat beast—it's terrifying!"

The mercenaries raised their weapons in alarm, unleashing a storm of bullets into the heavens. Muzzle flashes cut the night, a luminous web of gunfire.

But the creature was swift—too swift. It dodged and weaved with unnatural agility, most bullets harmlessly whizzing past.

Even the rocket launchers proved futile. Its evasive maneuvers made accurate targeting impossible. The anti-aircraft gun rattled like thunder, trailing sparks in vain.

Xiao Feng squeezed off shot after shot, but to no avail—the bat was simply too fast.

And its terror did not lie in speed alone.

In an instant, it dove toward the team, a living tempest. As its wings thundered upward, its talons snatched a mercenary from the earth and bore him aloft.

The beast ascended into the stars, then twisted midair. With a shriek, it hurled the screaming man high into the sky, caught him mid-fall, and sank its fangs into his neck—drinking deeply of his blood.

Xiao Feng cursed under his breath. Of all horrors, he could not bear to watch a comrade slaughtered before his eyes. Yet the mercenary's flailing body shielded the beast's head, preventing Xiao Feng from landing a fatal shot. His bullets struck flesh, but not lethally.

He watched, powerless, as the soldier's limbs went slack, his face contorted in fear, drenched in blood.

"ALICE!" Xiao Feng roared.

"I—I need a moment! The wildcats aren't all dead yet!" Alice responded, her voice strained with pain.

Xiao Feng slammed a fresh magazine into the Blood Ghost, pivoted, and aimed toward the cluster of still-paralyzed beasts around White and Rice. In quick succession, he fired—each shot clean, precise, and deadly. Within seconds, every wildcat bore a bullet hole square in the skull.

Rice turned, stunned. "Holy hell—your aim is inhuman."

"Damn it! The bat's diving again!" shouted another mercenary.

The man opened fire with his assault rifle, but the rounds were nothing to the armored hide of the beast.

A shadow flashed. The bat beast plucked the screaming soldier from the ground and carried him skyward.

Xiao Feng recognized him immediately. "Cook?!"

The captured mercenary was none other than Cook—the burly, dark-skinned warrior who had fled the No. 64 Safe Zone with them. Old White saw it too.

"Xiao Feng! Save him—save Cook!" he cried.

The monstrous bat hovered above, wings outstretched, its matted face twisted into a grotesque grin. Its eyeless gaze bore down like an omen.

It opened its maw, revealing fangs glistening with blood—poised to bite down.

Cook's body was clenched in its talons, bones creaking under the pressure, utterly unable to fight back. He had no strength left—only fear.