Xiao Feng crept into the dilapidated barn, the Blood Demon rifle steady in his grip. The walls and roof were riddled with gaping holes, through which the winter wind howled with a chilling ferocity, amplifying the eerie stillness and setting a scene of dreadful suspense.
Had it been a month earlier, Xiao Feng might have trembled uncontrollably at such a sight. But now, he was as composed as a seasoned assassin, his gaze sweeping the vast, shadow-filled barn in search of the Wild Wolf Chieftain.
A guttural, unsettling wheeze echoed through the darkness.
Xiao Feng raised his weapon, aiming toward the source of the sound. Through the infrared scope, a hulking silhouette emerged from behind a pile of withered straw, stepping into a shaft of silvery moonlight.
His finger tightened on the trigger as he fixed his sights on the creature's eyes—the only true weakness of the Wild Wolf. It lumbered forward with heavy, wearied steps, head bowed low.
Xiao Feng's heart whispered, A perfect opportunity.
But just as he aligned the shot, the beast lifted its massive head, submerging itself entirely in the moonlight, and gazed mournfully toward the full white moon above. Xiao Feng's aim faltered.
Then came a piercing howl—long and haunting.
The fleeting window to strike had vanished. Xiao Feng began to retreat, seeking distance. He could not be sure the Blood Demon rifle would be enough to fell this F-class monstrosity at close range.
He kept his eyes locked on the beast, waiting for it to lower its gaze. If it did, he would fire.
But something grotesque and unnatural began to occur.
The Wild Wolf rose onto its hind legs and howled again, a dreadful cry to the moon. Its body stretched and twisted, grotesquely elongating until it surpassed two meters in height. Its fur and hide decayed before Xiao Feng's eyes, putrid clumps peeling off and slapping against the floor with sickening wet sounds.
Still it grew, reaching nearly three meters tall.
Xiao Feng stood stunned, a single word crashing through his thoughts.
Werewolf.
The creature before him was terrifying—covered in rotting, sloughing fur, its claws now talons nearly half a foot long, glinting with deadly light. Thick cords of greenish muscle flexed beneath the decay, and it seemed to revel in this evolution of strength.
Its eyes—two glowing emerald orbs—locked onto Xiao Feng. With a deafening roar, the werewolf charged.
As it sprinted forward, the last of its skin and fur tore away, leaving behind slick sinew and glistening flesh. It opened its jaws wide, revealing rows of jagged fangs. It was no longer beast or man—it was a demon wrenched from the bowels of hell.
Xiao Feng pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The silenced shot hissed from the muzzle. Though dampened, the bullet tore into the creature's muscular torso, raising a plume of steam as it burned into flesh. But the werewolf's loping gait made precise shots nearly impossible.
Xiao Feng retreated swiftly, struggling to get a clean shot at the eyes. But to his shock, the creature shielded its face with a clawed hand.
A chill coursed through Xiao Feng. This wasn't just a mutation of flesh—its intelligence had evolved as well.
Moonlight had awakened something monstrous.
"This just got worse," he muttered, pivoting on his heel and bolting from the barn.
He had barely reached twenty meters before the barn erupted in splinters. The werewolf charged through the door in a blur of fury.
Xiao Feng turned as he ran, firing again and again. But the bullets merely tore into flesh without halting the beast's momentum.
Then he saw them.
Countless eyes gleaming in the dark—light blooming in dozens of directions. He wasn't facing one monster now. All across the decaying estate, other beasts had begun to emerge.
The night belonged to monsters. And beneath the full moon, it was their dominion.
Xiao Feng halted. He was surrounded.
He panted, scanning the tightening circle of predators with augmented vision. One by one, the monsters closed in.
The werewolf stalked forward, shoving lesser beasts aside to stand mere meters from him. Its eyes burned with primal hatred.
It threw back its head and howled, and the beasts dropped low, bowing as if to a king. They followed its cry with snarls of their own.
Xiao Feng sneered, slinging the rifle behind him. He drew the Reaper's Fang and shouted, "Come on then, you b*st*rd!"
But the werewolf did not charge. It growled low—an order. The horde surged forward.
A demon hound lunged first—long and lean, saliva spraying through the cold night air. Its eyes were wild as it leapt.
Xiao Feng pivoted, swinging the blade in a deadly arc. A wet schlik sounded as steel sliced through skull, blood and brain matter spraying into the dark. The corpse slid lifeless across the dirt.
But that was only the beginning.
Now, he was the prey.
Another beast pounced. Then two. Then more.
Xiao Feng cleaved one open, drew a pistol with his free hand, and fired point-blank into another's eye. He kicked another square in the face, sending it tumbling away. The Reaper's Fang spun, already cutting toward the next attacker.
His speed was now his salvation.
But even as he fought, a grim realization set in—there were too many. Far, far too many.