Volume One, Chapter 32: What? He’s a Catastrophe-Class Sequencer?

Hearing this, the others also looked as if all hope was lost.

Colony-type monsters were among the last things they ever wanted to encounter.

A single misstep could lead to total annihilation.

No one expected Montage to be this unlucky, running into such a thing on his very first mission.

Zhao Jie had already made up his mind: when they found Montage, he would tell him to run while the rest of them stayed behind to cover his escape.

“Zhao, look! What’s that?” one of the team members called out, pointing to the intersection ahead.

A pool of green liquid was slowly writhing, and in the blink of an eye, it spread across the entire street.

“Is that… a snail?” Zhao Jie was stunned when he finally recognized the liquid.

He’d seen plenty of snails before, but nothing like this...

A milky-white demonic aura drifted from her, enveloping everything within an acre or so—including those few individuals nearby.

Gazing at the towering Cloudtop Tree, Ye Xingchen made a quick estimate: there were thirty layers of “spirit mushrooms” stacked atop each other, each layer about thirty meters high.

“Miki, this is Reinhardt. He’s an elf on a journey,” Angel introduced, having already crafted an identity for Song Tianji—there were simply too many elves around.

But as the sound of the bell rang in their ears, streaks of light suddenly appeared in the sky, dancing through the void.

“Send this news to the Granary Base—they’re our partners, after all,” Lin Mu said with a smile. By now, Granary Base had been included in the communications zone, so the two outposts could now talk freely.

As soon as he stepped into the hall, he bowed deeply to Luo Fang, and then again to the Daoist standing behind her.

The iron meteor shot forth, thundering like a storm and crashing toward the injured general with an unstoppable force.

The opponent was just putting on a show—even if he could set up a sword formation, he hadn’t brought out any treasures, and expected to contend with a sword gourd honed over tens of thousands of years using nothing but flimsy sword light?

Gan Ning was bewildered. Wasn’t this just a debrief? Why were there questions? Most importantly, he had no idea what he’d done wrong.

At the center stood an elderly man in black robes, his air ethereal and dignified, his cultivation profound—he was clearly a master of the highest order.

Only when the protective barrier of the town’s guardian clashed with that of the shield did Ye Ji realize his mistake.

“So that’s it. Those three have been trapped by monsters like these—if we wait another quarter-hour, the barrier might be destroyed!” Lü Tianming commented softly, and his words were caught by the trio on the other side.

A figure who seemed most respected broke the silence. Yet, after speaking, he sensed something was off but couldn’t put his finger on it, feeling as if he’d overlooked something crucial.

Following the previous instructions, the army queued in three lines to prevent anyone from counting the numbers, but fairness could never be absolute—luck still played a large part.

At this point, Lü Tianming let go of all attachments, even forgetting he was still being tested in the Sword Tower, focusing solely on destroying his replica.

The two of them rode Zeng Zhenglin’s mount to the tile factory, which was a considerable distance to the north, not far from the county’s key middle school. The grounds were quite extensive.

They exchanged glances and laughed, then, without hesitation, led their brothers or sisters home.

“Is that so? Then let’s talk inside. I’m sure my servants have prepared dinner—we can discuss things over the meal!” Chen Zaixing smiled, lifted the curtain, and gestured for them to enter.

Witnessing this, Peng Fei and Zuo Shiyi’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets, their hearts gripped by terror. They shouted in panic, terrified that Liu Yansong would lose his life to Zhong Yingwu’s flying sword.

These “dwarves” stood over three meters tall—about the height of a single story—and looked like specialized mechas built for earthworks.

Along with this batch of supplies, Lin Qingrou from the liaison office requisitioned five military trucks. With five hundred submachine guns distributed to the troops, they were finally armed; the remaining five hundred without weapons were assigned to the artillery and logistics units.

But it didn’t make much difference—the British fleet, though small, was elite and could easily ignore their interference, still chasing at sixteen or seventeen knots.

Suddenly, the great hall filled with the sound of mechanisms, and a door inscribed with seals slowly lowered, revealing a massive entrance.

“Come on, the Tower of Tomorrow is one of the capital’s finest restaurants. After so many days on the road, we deserve a treat—who knows, we might end up in the royal cells after this!” Fang Youjun said.

It was flawless, perfectly matching Meng Yang’s tastes. He felt a powerful sense of love at first sight, but after a moment of daze, he forced himself to look again at the finely crafted object before him and finally calmed down.

For him, even the White Starcrystal Cauldron offered little improvement. Only the legendary ancient pill cauldrons could truly make a difference.

After dinner, it was nearly ten o’clock, and the two finally set off for home. Though Wu Yi insisted the alcohol hadn’t affected him at all, Su Qingsnow refused to give him the keys and took on the role of driver herself.

Perhaps, the martial arts of this complete realm were much more profound and comprehensive than those of the fragmented Three Kingdoms world. Yet, the greatest difference between inner energy martial arts and regular martial arts was the mindset with which combatants faced their battles—each responded to circumstances in entirely different ways.

Just then, the flight attendant felt someone gently grasp her from behind.

Of course, no one knew what had happened in the office. All they saw was Gu Jingzhi returning in silence, sitting frozen at his desk the entire afternoon.

Towering, smooth stone walls surrounded them, with no handholds in sight. The ground was littered with corpses—the two of them were like trapped beasts caught in a snare.

“No, Tian Jian, we’re not arrogant. He ate something that damaged his brain, and without timely treatment, his nerves became chaotic. If I hadn’t found him and brought him here, no one knows where he’d have ended up,” Zhou Shen explained, glancing at the newcomer.