https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-69-Garlic-Invincible-Arc-Conclusion-/13511097/
Chapter 68: Garlic Wuxiang Chronicles (15)
Chapter 68: Garlic Wuxiang Chronicles (15)
Dr. Ashufude’s mutated form remained roughly humanoid. Half his face resembled a zombie’s—decaying flesh, eyes swollen like overinflated balloons, ready to burst at any moment. His hair jutted out like Einstein’s iconic mane. His upper body bore the traits of a werewolf: thick fur, clawed hands. His back sprouted grotesque bone spurs from his elbows, heels, and spine. Vampire-like features completed the ensemble—pale skin and prominent fangs visible in his snarling mouth.
To Feng Bu Jue, this boss embodied three weaknesses: a head, vulnerability to garlic, and trip hazards.
Feng Bu Jue activated his ultimate ability—"Brat’s Low Kick"—a move usable only thrice. Its effect? "Ignore proficiency levels, 100% trip any theoretically topple-able monster and provoke it to attack you."
"You handle the derivative being. I’ve got this", Feng Bu Jue said, seizing the mutated form’s hindbrain with a pipe wrench as it struggled to rise. The metallic clangs and splattering blood painted a gruesome scene. He’d already injected his vaccine—blood in his mouth wouldn’t faze him now.
Pan Feng hesitated, sensing Feng Bu Jue might manage alone.
"Fine… we’ll finish the derivative being and join you", Pan Feng muttered, leaping off the stadium tier.
The mutated form triggered Concussion twice, leaving it stunned under Feng Bu Jue’s relentless blows for seconds. It even rose once, only to collapse again from the Stun effect.
When the mutated form finally stood, Feng Bu Jue bolted. Naturally, the boss gave chase. Unless tripped again, it wouldn’t switch targets.
"Xiao Tan, help!" Feng Bu Jue shouted, circling the tier. His voice echoed through the empty stadium.
Wang Tan Zhi, recovered from his fall, sprinted up the nearest staircase.
Feng Bu Jue led the mutated form in a frantic loop along the wide upper-tier edge—no match for a creature that scaled walls. Xiao Tan emerged from the stairs, flashlights in hand. As Feng Bu Jue approached, he yelled, "Use the baseball bat to trip it!"
"Got it!" Xiao Tan planted himself on a lower step, bat poised like a batter.
As Feng Bu Jue passed, Xiao Tan swung. The bat struck the mutated form’s shin with a thunderous crack. The impact numbed his arms, sending the bat flying. The monster’s leg—unbroken—shook the stadium.
Feng Bu Jue expected this. Earlier wrench blows hadn’t cracked its skull, and its glass-shattering elbow spurs in the Ailebo Building proved its durability.
Yet, it stumbled.
Feng Bu Jue slowed, ready to double back. Hearing the strike, he turned, shotgun raised. The mutated form slid toward him, face-first.
"Slash its Achilles tendon!" Feng Bu Jue barked, unloading a Winchester shotgun round into the creature’s skull.
Xiao Tan lunged, kitchen knife hacking at the tendon like chopping wood.
The headless monster thrashed, brains oozing, yet still clawed forward.
"Final phase?" Feng Bu Jue muttered, bloodied but calm.
He retreated, signaling Xiao Tan. "Stay back. It’ll die soon."
Headless, the beast wrecked seats and concrete. But with one severed Achilles tendon, Feng Bu Jue and Wang Tan Zhi stood safe at a distance.
"Almost done here! How’re you two?" Feng Bu Jue shouted, flashlight sweeping the lower battlefield.
The beam revealed Pan Feng and Hua Xiong locked in a stalemate with the derivative being—its regrown steel claws parrying their blows effortlessly.
Feng Bu Jue cursed inwardly. "Crap!"
"You’re fighting a level-three, right?!" he yelled.
"You figured it out—why ask?!" Hua Xiong snapped.
The Gms faced trouble. Hua Xiong’s initial strikes revealed the derivative being’s regeneration—its shattered arm regrew claws, wounds healed. Pan Feng’s arrival let Hua Xiong check the game menu: confirmed level-three. Superior to its supposed rank.
Feng Bu Jue noticed the regeneration. "Decapitate it! This’ll take forever otherwise!"
"Easy for you to say! You try!" Pan Feng roared.
The derivative being, though small, matched the mutated form’s strength. Its speed rivaled the Gms’. Claws as weapons, regeneration—minor injuries meant nothing. Prolonged combat would drain their stamina and vitality. Worse, time ticked: "Current task completed. Main quest complete. Scenario exit in 180 seconds."
The system’s chime signaled the mutated form’s demise. Three minutes remained.
At the stadium entrance, crimson eyes glowed in the dark. Blood wolf zombies howled—a swarm approached.
(End of Chapter)
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