Chapter Eighteen: The Acquisition of the Strange Bone

The instant he stepped onto the fifth floor, Scar instantly tensed up and said, “B-big brother, the zombie beast is in the innermost room. Its routine… to hell with it!”

At that moment, Scar suddenly lunged forward, crashed open the door to the first room, and slammed it shut behind him with a kick.

Gu Sha raised his pistol and fired two shots through the door, leaving two holes, but there was no sound from Scar. Frowning, Gu Sha was about to kick the door down when, in that instant, he stopped in his tracks. He felt an overwhelming presence—a sixth sense honed by years of surviving the apocalypse.

He whipped around and saw, at the end of the corridor, a massive blue cat emerging.

So Scar’s words were true—a beast even larger than a tiger.

A low, guttural roar rolled from the cat’s throat as it fixed its eyes on Gu Sha. Its four legs were as thick as Gu Sha’s thighs, and every step exuded a menacing aura, accompanied by a wave of searing heat.

“It’s really it!” The moment Gu Sha saw the giant cat, a surge of joy rose in his heart. He recognized it—it was the king-class zombie beast he had seen in his previous life.

The cat advanced step by step, staring intently at Gu Sha. Gu Sha narrowed his eyes, swiftly drew his Tang sword, gripped the hilt with both hands, and snorted coldly. “A cat is still a cat, no matter how hard you try to play the tiger.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Gu Sha charged forward.

The giant cat let out a roar and suddenly lunged, moving with astonishing speed. Cats were naturally gifted with agility and speed, and even at this colossal size, the beast had lost none of its quickness—if anything, it was dozens of times faster than an ordinary feline.

In the blink of an eye, the giant cat appeared before Gu Sha, then vanished, leaping onto the ceiling.

As Gu Sha leapt up and slashed, the cat disappeared again, reappearing behind him in the next instant and swiping its enormous paw at his back.

Gu Sha spun around, parrying with his blade.

Sparks flew as the Tang sword snapped in two, the tip embedding itself in the wall.

The immense force lifted Gu Sha off his toes and sent him back a meter. The moment he regained his footing, he hurled the broken half of his sword at the cat.

The beast batted the blade aside effortlessly.

At that moment, Gu Sha sprang into action, swinging his massive fist in a powerful punch.

The cat blocked with its forelegs but was sent flying with a mewling cry—a sound far more befitting a cat than its earlier roar.

“A grown cat is still just a cat!” Gu Sha charged forward again.

Yet, to his surprise, the cat’s intelligence far surpassed that of an ordinary zombie—it realized it was no match for him. Without hesitation, it spun around, dashed to the corridor window, and leapt out.

“Damn!” Gu Sha cursed and hurried after it. If he let the cat escape, it would be a huge loss.

He vaulted through the window as well.

From the fifth floor, the drop was daunting, but with the strength of a third-tier warrior, Gu Sha had no trouble making the leap.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the giant cat’s cunning. While he was still midair, it turned and unleashed a torrent of blazing fire from its jaws, the flames surging up to engulf him.

Heart pounding, Gu Sha shot out a hand and caught the third-floor windowsill, swinging himself inside the corridor just as the fire swept past, even spilling into the hallway.

He threw himself to the floor, but his clothes still caught fire. With a quick roll, he put out the flames.

Rather than jumping out again, Gu Sha dashed downstairs to the second-floor lobby, grabbed two blood-soaked corpses, smashed open the boarded-up window, and threw the bodies outside.

The giant cat, about to flee below, stopped in its tracks.

Seeing this, Gu Sha tossed two more corpses down.

The cat hesitated, conflicted, then darted over and seized one of the bodies in its jaws.

Seizing the opportunity, Gu Sha grabbed an axe, leapt from the window, and landed below.

The cat immediately spat out the corpse and roared at Gu Sha, spewing another stream of fire. But Gu Sha was ready—he slid beneath the flames and shot toward the cat, swinging his axe at its belly.

The cat’s reflexes were incredible—at the last possible second, it leapt aside, dodging the blow, and Gu Sha slipped behind it.

But Gu Sha’s battle experience was unparalleled. In the very next instant, he spun the axe and hurled it backward, striking the giant cat’s hind leg and slicing it nearly clean through.

The beast let out a piercing, anguished cry and turned, belching fire toward Gu Sha.

Gu Sha was prepared. Ignoring the searing heat, he barreled through the flames and landed a punch squarely on the cat’s jaw, shattering the lower bone.

The giant cat wailed and was flung back.

Gu Sha quickly blew on the back of his hand twice—the fire had scorched his skin, and the smell of cooked flesh was already in the air.

Dragging its crippled leg, the cat tried to flee.

Gu Sha snorted coldly, seized a fallen concrete column—three or four hundred pounds—and hurled it at the cat.

With a resounding crash, the column smashed into the cat’s other hind leg, breaking it as well. The beast screamed and tried to escape, but with both hind legs nearly useless, it managed only a few hundred meters before Gu Sha caught up.

A look of human-like pleading appeared in the cat’s eyes, but Gu Sha ignored it. He brought his fist down hard, then hefted a chunk of concrete wall, hundreds of pounds in weight, and pounded it down again and again.

Before long, the giant cat’s head was nothing but a bloody pulp—dead, lifeless.

The noise, however, had drawn hordes of zombies.

Not wanting to waste time, Gu Sha picked up from the cat’s shattered skull an object resembling a jade-like peach pit—the corpse core. Every ranked zombie beast or zombie formed one, the equivalent of the human genetic lock, a nexus for vital energy.

Then, hoisting the cat’s body, Gu Sha dashed away.

He returned to the building from before, locked the iron door behind him, and went up to the second floor. Fetching a butcher’s knife, he began dissecting the giant cat.

As he cut away slab after slab of meat and the bones came into view, he worked his way to the tail and found a transparent, lustrous bone.

A wave of irrepressible joy surged in Gu Sha’s heart—across this life and the last, this was his first piece of mutant bone!