The person before him was neither human nor his friend Wang Zikai.
"Wang Zikai" had never truly existed—he was merely a Chimeric Beast in disguise, a mutated Lost One.
He's dead. That's it. No need to grieve.
Gao Yang repeated this to himself, but it was useless. His chest felt like it was being crushed, making it hard to breathe.
Memories flooded his mind: Nearly getting hit by Wang Zikai's sports car on the first day of school; collapsing from heatstroke during military training and being carried to the infirmary on Wang Zikai's back; their first all-night gaming session where they lost every match; the night they got drunk together and Wang Zikai tearfully confessed he never wanted his parents to divorce…
Gao Yang slumped in front of Wang Zikai's corpse, his spirit shattered.
Qing Ling walked in, clutching her bleeding arm, her blade still in hand.
After a brief hesitation, Fatso stood up from Wang Zikai's side and moved toward Qing Ling, placing his hands over her wound. "Heal!"
Qing Ling glanced at Wang Zikai and frowned. "He's dead?"
Officer Huang nodded. "No pulse." He scanned the room littered with beast corpses. "Never thought we'd actually wipe out the whole village. Without Wang Zikai, the four of us would've been dead."
"...Did we miss any?" Fatso asked nervously.
"I counted. Thirty-one outside, twenty-two inside—fifty-three total."
"None left! Then can we please get the hell out of this nightmare?!" Fatso was desperate. "They're all dead! There's no more enemies!"
The moment Fatso finished speaking, Gao Yang's chest clenched violently.
He clutched his sternum. "Something's wrong..."
"What?" Officer Huang tensed.
"It doesn't feel right..." Gao Yang couldn't explain it. Perhaps his heightened spiritual perception allowed him to sense hidden threats.
"It's not over," he said, voice tinged with despair. "There's still something here with us. It's strong. Excited. Dangerous..."
"Y-Yang-ge, don't joke like that! Not funny at all!" Fatso, barely hanging on after surviving the massacre, looked around frantically. "What else could there be?! Where?! I don't see anything!"
Gao Yang closed his eyes and entered the system.
[WARNING! You are in extreme danger.]
[LUCK stat multiplier increased to 1000x.]
—1000x?!
Gao Yang didn't know what that meant. He only knew that in their current state, death was certain.
He snapped his eyes open and roared, "RUN! NOW!"
The four bolted from the house without hesitation, leaving even Wang Zikai's body behind.
As they rushed into the courtyard, Qing Ling, leading the charge, suddenly halted. Without turning, she raised a hand to stop the others. "Back up! Don't come near me!"
Confused, the three froze, holding their breath.
Gao Yang was the first to notice. His eyes widened as he saw it—something off about Qing Ling. More precisely, her hair. A few strands of her long black locks were defying gravity, slowly lifting into the air.
Then it hit him—those strands weren't hers.
"Hiss—"
The floating hairs coiled around Qing Ling's slender neck like nooses, tightening. Her fingers twitched, and razor blades hidden in her chest pocket shot out.
"Swish! Swish! Swish—!" The blades severed the strands. Qing Ling dropped into a crouch, then leaped back toward the group in a roll.
The severed hairs didn't pursue. They hovered midair for a few seconds before dispersing like slender, drifting plankton, slowly ascending.
The four looked up—and froze in horror.
A humanoid skull descended from above, its long, jet-black hair lush and writhing.
"Look at the ground!" Fatso shrieked.
Gao Yang glanced down. The hair from every corpse had detached, slithering across the earth like countless black serpents. Then, defying gravity, they swam upward toward the monstrosity in the sky—like lost tadpoles returning to their mother.
Within moments, the creature reassembled itself.
Gao Yang had no words to describe it. A grotesque human skull, its back fused with billions of black hairs. Under the moonlight, it resembled a colossal deep-sea kelp monster suspended in an abyss.
It descended slowly, its hair fanning outward, blotting out the sky. An endless darkness pressed down on them like the apocalypse.
"Isn't that...?" Fatso finally remembered. "The hair monster that attacked us that night?!"
"Yes."
Gao Yang's heart sank. Even at full strength, the five of them might not have stood a chance against this thing. Now, battered and depleted, they were doomed.
He turned to Officer Huang. "Did the Zodiac Organization know about this?"
Officer Huang's face darkened. "I suspect that's exactly why they sent us."
"This wasn't a test. This was a death sentence." Bitterness seeped into Gao Yang's voice.
"We were used," Qing Ling said coldly. "Cannon fodder."
"I'm sorry. I led you all here. Wu Hai didn't seem like a bad person... I thought I could trust my judgment..." Guilt weighed heavy on Officer Huang.
Gao Yang shook his head. "Not your fault. Joining the organization was our choice."
"Enough talking! Do something! I don't wanna die...!" Fatso wailed.
"Qing Ling, can you still fight?" Gao Yang asked.
Silence. Qing Ling had at least three fractures and severe muscle tears in her right arm. She could barely grip her Tang blade—her stance was a bluff.
She could still use [Metal], but at Level 2, it was only good for ambushing humans. Against a beast of this caliber? Useless.
Gao Yang knew this. Qing Ling's silence confirmed it.
—Escape? Impossible.
—Fight? Death.
Every shred of logic screamed hopeless.
Nothing was more torturous than waiting to die. Yet their torment didn't last long. The all-encompassing black hair, like an inverted man-eating flower, began closing in on the four in the courtyard.
"Watch out!"
Gao Yang's shout was futile.
Fatso was the first ensnared. He gave up entirely, squeezing his eyes shut as he sobbed. He just hoped death would be quick.
Officer Huang was next. He struggled for two extra seconds before being trussed up like a mummy.
Gao Yang fared no better. The extra agility points he'd allocated couldn't save him from the hair's grasp.
Qing Ling lasted the longest. Using her Metal talent, she sent her dagger, blades, and Tang sword spinning around her in a whirlwind defense. Countless hairs were severed, but enough slipped through. Within seconds, she too was bound.
Lifted by the hair, Gao Yang's feet left the ground. He and the others floated upward.
Though captured last, Qing Ling seemed to be the hair monster's most coveted prey. She was pulled toward the skull at terrifying speed, soon hanging upside-down before it.
The hairs coiled around her slithered like serpents, slinking into her waterfall of black locks, merging with them.
Then, the skull spoke—a hollow, distorted woman's voice:
"Hair... hair... such beautiful hair..."
Qing Ling stared into the skull's hollow sockets, unflinching.
Suddenly, she opened her mouth.
A hidden blade shot from under her tongue, streaking toward the skull's forehead.
"Metal!" Qing Ling poured all her remaining energy into the strike.
It was futile. The blade was too thin, too fragile. Crushed by an invisible force, it merely left a faint scratch on the skull's brow.
But the sneak attack enraged the monster.
Hundreds of hairs entwined, hardening into a single, spear-like stinger—a scorpion's tail—that curved upward and impaled Qing Ling through the chest.
"QING LING!" Gao Yang screamed.