Chapter: 1252 Who?
Looking at the increasingly numerous "Ants" on the square beginning to stroke the ground, Yan Zhichun felt a chill creep down her back.
They hadn’t lost all their senses; they still had touch and reason. Now, every single "Ant" seemed to be trying to figure out what was happening. It was already past the time they ought to have left for work, yet no one had opened the door for them. So they could only touch the ground to perceive their surroundings.
Yan Zhichun suspected that, to these "Ants," even if chunks of corpses fell on them, they would simply assume another "Ant" had accidentally brushed against them. Maybe the "Ants" had an unspoken rule to avoid such contact, which was why they scattered across every corner of the square—just to avoid touching one another and causing panic.
Taking advantage of the longhorn beetle’s disappearance, Yan Zhichun grabbed that bizarre strand of hair and, following its guidance, quickly walked over to the "Ant" and crouched down beside him.
From appearance alone, Yan Zhichun couldn’t tell this "Ant" apart from the others. All of them had snow-white skin, no facial features, and no hair. He was also crouching, his hands spread apart and touching the ground at a strange, outward angle.
Yan Zhichun made a snap decision and stepped forward to tap him.
The "Ant" was clearly startled. He twisted the eye-socket-covered "face" to "look" at Yan Zhichun, looking dazed. Yan Zhichun was equally bewildered, because she had no idea how to communicate with this thing.
The "Ant" decisively stopped touching the ground and extended his dirty hands toward Yan Zhichun’s direction. Though her hairs stood on end, Yan Zhichun didn’t retreat in a hurry. But she soon noticed that his hands were reaching for what seemed to be her eyeballs. With no way to avoid it, she could only reach out and grab his wrist.
In that instant, Yan Zhichun felt as if she were holding two icicles, and the "Ant" seemed scalded as well, his whole body trembling slightly.
They stood frozen for a few seconds. Then the "Ant" quickly reversed his grip and, with surprising strength, pulled Yan Zhichun’s palm toward his face. Using his broken-arm-driven wrist, he wrote a character crookedly in the center of her palm—
"Who?"
Yan Zhichun knew the "Ants" possessed rationality, but she hadn’t expected their thinking to be this clear. They could even write characters in her palm—so communication was certainly possible.
But the question was hard to answer. If she wrote "Yan Zhichun" or "Extreme Path," she’d probably have to explain far too much.
So after a moment’s thought, she wrote four characters in the "Ant’s" palm—
"Kill the longhorn beetle."
The "Ant" cupped his palm, feeling the four characters. Though he had no expression to show, Yan Zhichun sensed he was puzzled.
Black Sheep squinted from afar. Seeing Yan Zhichun begin to communicate with the "Ant," he quickly re-evaluated his tactics and spoke into the void: "Since you won’t make a move, why not come out and chat? You’re just ‘Hidden,’ not ‘Silent,’ right?"
His loud voice echoed into every corner of the square. Everyone except the "Ants" heard him.
"If you speak, I’ll find your position. You figure you might not be able to beat me, is that it?" Black Sheep continued. "Once ‘Hidden’ becomes useless, those other two ‘Fairy Arts’ won’t help you at all. I’m starting to worry for you."
Though his words were arrogant, Black Sheep’s eyes were extremely cautious. He focused on sensing all the air currents around him. If a breeze suddenly blew from any direction, it would mean the longhorn beetle could no longer hold back.
"I’m worried that you, a proud longhorn beetle, might lose to a mere ground sheep here," Black Sheep shouted coldly. "Come to think of it… why does a ground ox feel harder to kill than you? Are you really fit to sit in that seat?"
The moment he finished, Black Sheep felt a faint breeze on his left. He instantly curled his arms to block. Having somewhat adapted to the longhorn beetle’s attacks, he raised his hands to chest height to protect his heart. But he soon realized something was wrong—this time the force of the wind was greater than before.
"Not good… it’s a ‘kick’…"
This time the longhorn beetle hadn’t thrown a punch; instead, he swept his leg toward Black Sheep’s ribs. By the time Black Sheep realized what was happening, there was no time to block. After all, he was fighting against empty air—he relied on a sliver of feeling and ninety-nine percent luck.
His ribs took a heavy hit. Black Sheep coughed, feeling a sweetness in his throat as blood flooded into his mouth. It felt like his internal organs had been kicked apart.
Yet, astonishingly, he remained rooted to the spot without moving an inch.
His left hand bent downward, as if he had grabbed hold of something.
"Ha…" Blood began to drip from Black Sheep’s mouth, but a rare smile crept onto his face. "Finally got you…"
With that, he tightened his grip on the opponent’s leg, raised his foot, and aimed a vicious kick at the knee of what he thought was the enemy’s other leg.
Just as the kick was about to land, he suddenly felt the longhorn beetle rise straight into the air. He instantly lost his balance and was yanked upward at high speed.
Before he could orient himself, the air in front of him shattered. A fist slammed hard into his nose. But Black Sheep refused to let go.
Unable to immediately restrict the opponent’s movement, he quickly changed tactics, raising a hand to strike the invisible body.
*Thud!*
A muffled sound rang out. Black Sheep couldn’t help but frown.
Because that punch had landed solidly.
A faint, barely audible grunt came from directly in front of him, confirming his guess.
He had one of the longhorn beetle’s legs under control, but the opponent still had three limbs to use, and could even dodge while airborne. So why had this punch hit?
The air in front of him split again as something rammed into it, this time heading for his neck. Black Sheep jerked his head back, only to feel a blow land on his chin. Without time to think, he shot out another punch. Another muffled sound—another clear hit.
"It’s working." Black Sheep instantly forgot the pain and launched a continuous assault.
The longhorn beetle seemed to realize he couldn’t afford to tangle. He shook his whole body and began moving at high speed through the air. The repeated injuries prevented Black Sheep from fully concentrating on controlling the leg, and soon he was flung off, plummeting straight toward the ground.
Black Sheep crashed onto the ground but didn’t linger. He rolled over and stood up, wiping the blood from his face.
Those last two punches were far too strange…
Every time he was hit and retaliated, he struck the longhorn beetle with perfect accuracy.
Which meant…
"Does the longhorn beetle only have one hand usable…?"