# 169
Chapter 169: The Hunt
In the twisted maze of rooms, the three squads of female soldiers split into three directions and sped along their chosen paths.
Baili Pangpang followed Molly’s group. After threading through several dormitories he lowered his voice and asked, puzzled:
“Why split up? Aren’t we here to hunt the Sound-Eater? We’re already short-handed—doesn’t separating make it worse?”
Molly snapped, “You want dozens of us stomping around together so the monster can hear us from a mile off? Splitting up isn’t suicide. We’ve figured out the shifting pattern of the rooms, but we still don’t know the Sound-Eater’s exact location. As soon as one squad pinpoints it, the other two can flank.
Can’t grasp something that simple? What do you rich boys keep in your heads—air?”
Baili Pangpang pondered. “All of it’s you?”
“…Scram.”
Molly swallowed the urge to slap the fat boy into next week, took a deep breath, and pressed on in silence.
Suddenly the girl on point froze; everyone stopped breathing and stared around warily.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered.
“What?” Baili Pangpang listened hard—nothing.
“Fighting,” Molly said, frowning. “Strange. The other squads shouldn’t be engaging the Sound-Eater. So who’s fighting…?”
“And it’s getting closer,” A Zi, surrounded by the others, said grimly. “Battle stations!”
They inhaled, muffled every footfall, and tightened their grips. Trapped in Building Three from the start, they’d never reached the armoury; their weapons were fruit-knives and pipes ripped from the boiler-room—they looked like street brawlers.
The noise neared. Even Baili Pangpang could hear walls collapsing, steel ringing, and beneath it a weird cackle…
He started—he’d heard that laugh somewhere…
Boom—!!
A wall ahead exploded. A figure wreathed in black flames flew through, smashed into the opposite wall, blood dripping from his mouth. He struggled up, the flames round him flickering weakly, almost out.
“Ke-ke-ke-ke…”
Before he could steady himself a huge shape flashed up, monstrous blade sweeping for his waist!
Clang—!!
Black-flame Straight Blade met the executioner’s sword in a thunderous crash. Mad Cao Yuan was hurled through another wall into the next room.
The headless man flickered after him.
Never once did the creature notice the dozen spectators; its black enemy held every shred of its attention.
Jaws dropped.
“Holy— that’s Cao Yuan!” Baili Pangpang gaped.
“With all that racket he’s dueling the Sound-Eater and still in one piece?” A Zi exclaimed. “Looks like they’ve been at it ages.”
“Monster!”
“The guy who used to floor instructors!”
“What do we do?”
A Zi thought fast. “Follow quietly. Call the other squads. If someone can tank the Sound-Eater head-on, we’ve got a huge edge.”
“Roger!”
They trailed the two monsters. Only Baili Pangpang lagged, glancing around, scratching his head.
“Odd. If Cao Yuan’s here, where’s Qiye…?”
He saw no sign of Lin Qiye and shook himself, hurrying after the rest.
Mad Cao Yuan and the headless man punched through two more dorms—mostly Cao Yuan being punched. As Lin Qiye had predicted, his psyche couldn’t sustain the mad state long; his combat power had plummeted.
At first he’d traded blows; now a single strike sent him flying. If not for his speed and freakish survival he’d have been bisected.
Within minutes nearly all the female soldiers had surrounded them, plus a few stragglers who’d entered Building Three with Lin Qiye and got lost—seventy-odd in all.
Zhang Xiaoxiao’s mental web linked everyone. Over the telepathic channel A Zi rattled out a battle plan.
Another blow sent the blood-soaked Cao Yuan crashing into rubble. The murderous aura round him faded; he tried to push up, but couldn’t.
Silence. The headless man dragged his executioner’s sword toward him.
“Now!”
A Zi’s order rang in every mind.
A dozen figures burst from adjoining rooms; wildly different Forbidden Ruins unfurled!
The executioner’s blade quivered and began to rise. The scraping ceased; the headless man slowed as if stuck on slow-motion—one step every dozen seconds.
Yes!
A Zi’s eyes lit up. The Sound-Eater fed on sound; the heavy blade wasn’t just for bisecting—it supplied the constant drag-noise that empowered it. Lift the blade, keep ambient noise below a threshold, and the kill became trivial.
Assassins glided in, killing moves poised, murderous intent sky-high.
Suddenly the rooms shuddered—and began shifting again…
Every heart lurched.
As walls whirled, A Zi’s face blanched; the pattern was nothing like before. Her prediction—wrong.
When the motion ceased they saw the rooms hadn’t twisted… they’d straightened.
Familiar dorms, unbroken corridor, sunlight streaming in—chaos had been illusion.
Building Three had returned to normal.