Chapter 50: Anomalous Bloodline, The Onset of Calamity

The creature shook its head, scattering blood droplets and chunks of flesh across the ground. After Fang Zhuowei’s blow, the monster’s jaw hung slack from the side, crimson blood soaking its black fur, releasing a foul stench.

A series of guttural clicks escaped the monster, its eyes betraying a flicker of pain and terror, almost human in expression. It remembered clearly that only days ago, this human could do nothing but hide in the house—how had he changed so drastically in such a short time?

With a roar, the monster’s pale eyes flashed with a sinister intensity. A faint hint of conspiracy drifted in the air, and it felt as though the human was deliberately toying with it, luring it into a trap. Ignoring the agony from its wounded jaw, the creature turned to flee.

But Fang Zhuowei would not allow it to escape. After all, this thing had tried to attack him several times already, its purpose and vengeful intent obvious. If it managed to get away now, it would be like releasing a tiger back into the wild. Fortunately, he had gained a significant boost in power from the ancient ape civilization ahead of time; otherwise, he might already be inside the monster’s belly.

If the creature escaped, who knew when it would return after recovering? Fang Zhuowei could not be on guard every day—after all, a thousand days for a thief, but not a thousand days for a guard.

Gripping his mountain-clearing blade, Fang Zhuowei sprinted forward, muscles taut. He leaped with the strength of a kangaroo, soaring seven or eight meters high, and brought the blade down fiercely upon the monster below.

Under the light, the blade’s edge, though slightly nicked, still gleamed coldly.

Seeing this, the creature let out a low howl, picking up its pace. Yet Fang Zhuowei’s earlier blow had left it seriously injured; though it reacted in time, its speed was nowhere near what it had been.

A dazzling flash of cold steel cut through the air.

Mid-leap, Fang Zhuowei used the mountain-clearing blade as a dagger and hurled it with all his might. This technique, a special adaptation by the ancient apes inspired by the legendary Flying Dagger, possessed remarkable lethality. Of course, in the Fish Tank World, the ancient apes had no daggers—they threw stones, achieving the same deadly precision as the finest warriors of cold steel.

A sharp whistle sliced the air, almost painful to the ear.

The heavy blade, weighing over ten pounds, shot forward like a bullet, striking the monster’s spine with unerring accuracy. Driven by inertia, the blade severed the spine completely.

With the loss of its spinal support, the creature collapsed to the ground, utterly helpless. Momentum carried its body crashing heavily into a nearby stone trough. After this, it was barely breathing, its life ebbing away.

Still, Fang Zhuowei felt uneasy. He drew the blade and hacked repeatedly at the monster’s neck, stopping only when the flesh and bone were fully exposed.

He was a man of decisive action—if he struck, he struck to kill.

"The bones are remarkably tough."

After a dozen blows, the blade was thoroughly notched, the edge battered and chipped, nearly beyond repair. This was a solid mountain-clearing blade, capable of felling trees; to be dulled and damaged by the bones of this unknown creature was extraordinary.

Tossing the ruined blade aside, Fang Zhuowei crouched down to examine the monster carefully.

"It looks like this creature was injured before!"

On its abdomen, he found several round, scabbed wounds, suggesting it had been struck by some kind of heated weapon.

To test his theory, he fetched a watermelon knife and sliced open the scarred area, donning gloves to sift through the flesh.

Sure enough, he discovered several oval objects resembling bullets.

Unlike those in movies, these bullets were a rare shade of golden yellow.

Moreover, while their shape was similar to ordinary ammunition, their casings bore strange markings—like crosses, or perhaps the letter X.

"These bullets... seem to be made entirely of gold!"

Fang Zhuowei washed the golden bullets, removing the bloodstains, and made another discovery. Having worked in a gold shop, he was sensitive to precious metals; the texture, weight, and color all suggested pure gold.

He picked up the damaged blade and gently scratched the surface of the bullets, easily leaving marks. This was a characteristic method for identifying gold—soft, malleable, like silver, and in ancient times, often tested by biting. Real gold would bear tooth marks; fakes would not.

Using gold for bullets—how lavish could one be!

If he remembered correctly, gold was currently worth five hundred yuan per gram. These bullets together weighed at least sixty grams, which meant they were worth more than thirty thousand yuan.

Thirty thousand yuan, just for a few shots?

Especially since gold, being soft, was hardly suitable for making bullets.

He quietly pocketed the golden bullets, pondering what he might have missed.

First, whether gold or ordinary, they were bullets.

In his country, private possession of ammunition was strictly forbidden. Only police, soldiers, or criminals with access to contraband could use them.

Second, since he found the bullets in the monster’s body, it meant there had been one or more violent encounters.

Third, considering his location—remote mountains and ridges—had there been any unfamiliar faces recently?

Suddenly, the memory of the group of men in casual attire flashed into his mind. They were not locals; they had come from afar, and their purpose was clear—they were after this hideous, unknown creature.

Moreover, their status seemed high; if he recalled correctly, they had been dispatched by the city as specialists.

This suggested two things.

First, the repulsive creature must possess some significant value to have attracted attention from the city.

Second, those experts had the means to deal with it—such as these special golden bullets.

With these points clarified, Fang Zhuowei’s thoughts became much more organized.