Zheng Zha could no longer feel pain throughout his body. He clenched the Queen's claw tightly in his mouth, fearing that if he loosened his grip, he would fall to the ground. Without legs, falling meant certain death. Even holding the spiral spike bomb would be useless—there was no way he could float up and strike the Queen at will. This was his final chance.
His consciousness began to blur. Zheng Zha felt a chilling cold spread through his body, a telltale sign of impending death. There were tales of people surviving for minutes after being bisected, and even longer in freezing conditions. But given his prior severe injuries, being split in two left him with not even half a life to cling to. He could die at any moment.
He couldn't let go of the Queen's claw, so Zheng Zha worked to fasten the bomb's pin around it. With a mighty pull, he managed to remove the bomb's safety pin. But before he could take the next step, a powerful gust of wind swept toward him. He didn't need to look to know what was coming—whether it was a claw or the Queen's tongue, the force was aimed directly at his head.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Gunfire erupted nearby. The shots came from the direction of another shipping container. Chu Xuan was standing there, trembling. One of his arms hung by a few tendons, clearly broken, while his waist was twisted at an unnatural angle. He was clearly gravely injured, his waist likely fractured.
Chu Xuan had fired the shots with his remaining functional hand. Each bullet struck the Alien Queen's tongue with unerring accuracy, once again proving his incredible close-range shooting skills. The heavy handgun he wielded packed tremendous firepower, severing the front part of the tongue entirely. The remaining stump veered off course, narrowly missing Zheng Zha's head as it whizzed by.
"Whatever you're going to do, do it now! My vision is going dark!" Chu Xuan shouted, continuing to fire at the Queen's tongue, creating more yellow blood-filled wounds.
Zheng Zha gritted his teeth and pressed his left hand firmly against the Queen's claw. Finally, he was able to release his bite on the claw, but the strain was evident. Summoning all his remaining strength, he propelled himself upward, leaping two meters into the air and landing on the Queen's head.
With a sickening "shhk", the spiral spike bomb in Zheng Zha's left hand plunged into the side of the Queen's head, piercing through to its mouth. In a flash, the Queen raised its claw, preparing to swat Zheng Zha away. But before it could strike, an explosive "boom" shattered the air. The blast obliterated both the Queen's head and Zheng Zha's left arm.
The explosion showered fragments of shrapnel, spiral spike shards, and pieces of the Queen's exoskeleton all over Zheng Zha. His body, already battered, was riddled with yet more injuries. His left arm had been completely destroyed by the explosion, adding to the devastation. But compared to his previous injuries, this was minor. With nothing left, he closed his eyes as he slowly fell to the ground.
He had spent all his inner energy. His vampiric power was nearly depleted. The unlocked genetic state had reached its limit. He had lost over half of his blood. The injuries on his body were enough to kill any ordinary man instantly. Zheng Zha no longer had the strength to move, not even to blink. He was utterly exhausted and longed to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Yet something deep inside kept nagging at him—some task left unfinished.
"Damn you, Lord God. Heal us already! Deduct the repair points if you have to…"
Vaguely, Zheng Zha thought he heard Zhang Jie muttering indistinctly. Along with this, a familiar sound reached him—the sound of a girl crying. The sobbing was so heart-wrenching that Zheng Zha tried desperately to open his eyes. But he was so tired. Without the sobbing, he might have already slipped into oblivion.
Thankfully, at that moment, a comforting warmth enveloped him. It felt like he was soaking in warm water, soothing his body from head to toe. Yet the comfort didn't last long, as it was soon replaced by excruciating pain—pain so intense it defied description. It tore at him, and he wanted nothing more than to scream. But it was this agony that brought his mind back into focus.
When his mind cleared, Zheng Zha felt a wave of cold terror wash over him. Recalling his desperate struggle against the Queen, he was overcome with dread. That creature had been massive—seven or eight meters tall, and nearly twenty meters long. Forget fighting it; even an elephant would have been killed instantly by one swipe of its tail. How had he dared to face it in close combat? The memory alone made him shudder.
Looking around, Zheng Zha realized he was now back in theGod's Space—a vast plaza illuminated by a suspended orb of light, surrounded by endless darkness. This was the only safe haven in the horror movie cycle.
He floated in a column of light descending from the orb. Beside him, there were four other columns of varying brightness. The dimmest housed Chu Xuan, who had sustained the lightest injuries. Next were Zero and Zhang Jie. The brightest column, second only to Zheng Zha's, held Zhan Lan.
Four people. Zheng Zha counted again. Yes, only four. The burly Russian mercenary Bawang was missing. It seemed he hadn't made it back to theGod's Space, a silent reminder that only the living could return.
Zheng Zha turned his attention to his own body. The pain was now duller but still unbearable. His entire lower half was gone, pulverized. Both arms were missing. His torso was riddled with shrapnel. Thankfully, his face had only minor scratches, and his head had miraculously avoided the deadly fragments. It was a small consolation in an otherwise grim situation.
Under the light of the column, Zheng Zha's muscles twitched as if alive. His body was regenerating rapidly, his spine extending downward until it reached his tailbone. Bones and nerves grew outward, followed by veins and organs, all regenerating visibly.
Zheng Zha averted his eyes. The sight of his own rapid regeneration was nauseating. Instead, he looked downward. Two girls stood at the edge of the plaza, tears streaming down their faces. One was the classical beauty Zhang Jie had created, silently weeping as she gazed at him. The other was Zheng Zha's girl, Lori. This fifteen- or sixteen-year-old was crying so hard she seemed ready to faint, barely held upright by the classical beauty.
Though he couldn't speak, as his throat had been shredded by shrapnel, Zheng Zha mouthed words toward Lori, hoping she could understand the movements of his lips.
"I made it back alive… Lori, I kept my promise. I'm alive!"