Fantasy Game: Infinite City

Chapter 716, Floor 94 (18)

Sure enough, before long, the fleshy bubbles grew to a certain size, unable to withstand the internal pressure any longer. With a series of soft "plop, plop" sounds, countless fleshy bubbles burst simultaneously. From within, large amounts of viscous, dark red liquid gushed out, instantly merging with the rotting flesh on the ground. Even more terrifying, from where the bubbles burst, hordes of bizarre fleshy structures suddenly and rapidly sprouted. Their growth rate was astonishing; within mere seconds, they had grown from tiny buds into complete, grotesque fleshy structures.

These fleshy structures, rotting and dark red in color, were covered with black spots and tiny holes, from which a dark red, viscous liquid slowly seeped, making them look nauseating. Their shapes were extremely twisted and bizarre, lacking a fixed form. Some resembled tangled clumps of flesh covered with countless tiny tentacles; others looked like headless monsters, with thick bodies, twisted limbs, and nauseating fleshy protrusions; still others were small, like twisted worms covered in tiny spikes, crawling rapidly across the ground; and some were enormous, bloated, their surfaces covered with countless fleshy holes, resembling giant balls of flesh slowly rolling across the ground.

These fleshy constructs, though varied in appearance and bizarre in shape, shared one unique characteristic: their bodies were all irregular, covered in nauseating holes and protrusions. Thick, dark red liquid constantly seeped from the holes, while the protrusions, with their irregular shapes, looked exceptionally grotesque and terrifying. Even more eerie was that these fleshy constructs, despite their ferocious and horrifying appearance, were utterly silent. They could not utter a single sound—not a hiss, a roar, or any other noise—only silently and rapidly growing and moving. The only sounds in the room were the rustling of their viscous flesh against the floor and the faint throbbing of their flesh, creating an atmosphere of oppressive unease and utter terror.

Within a mere dozen seconds, countless fleshy constructs sprouted from the shattered fleshy bubbles, densely covering the ground and the entire room. There were hundreds, or even more, of them. They resembled a horde of hungry monsters. Although they lacked eyes or other organs for observation, it was clear that if they did, they would be staring intently at the liquid metal humanoid in the center of the room. One could clearly sense their intense hostility and aggression towards the liquid metal humanoid, as if this liquid metal humanoid standing in front of the machine was their mortal enemy, and they would not be satisfied until it was completely destroyed and devoured.

After completing their growth, the fleshy constructs, without pausing, immediately charged towards the liquid metal humanoid. Their speeds varied: the smaller constructs moved extremely fast, like streaks of red lightning, crawling rapidly across the ground; the larger constructs, though slower, possessed immense strength, each step causing a slight tremor in the ground, and viscous flesh dripped from their bodies, leaving long trails on the ground; while the tentacle-covered constructs swung their tentacles, rapidly lunging at the liquid metal humanoid, their tentacles whistling through the air, appearing exceptionally ferocious.

Hundreds of flesh-and-blood constructs launched a simultaneous attack, densely packed, surging towards the liquid metal humanoid from all directions. They instantly surrounded it, leaving no gaps, attempting to completely trap, destroy, and devour it. Faced with this sudden siege, faced with these bizarre and terrifying flesh-and-blood constructs, even the incredibly powerful liquid metal humanoid felt an unprecedented pressure. Its crimson optical sensors rapidly scanned the movements of each flesh-and-blood construct, analyzing their attack patterns and weaknesses, trying to find a way to counter them. However, it discovered that these flesh-and-blood constructs had no weaknesses whatsoever. Their bodies, though seemingly rotten and decaying, were exceptionally tough and possessed extremely strong regenerative abilities. Even more terrifying was that their numbers were constantly increasing.

The liquid metal humanoid showed no sign of retreat; it immediately launched a counterattack. Its surface, covered in silvery-gray liquid metal, erupted with a dazzling light. The metal blades on its arms, carrying powerful energy fluctuations, slashed fiercely at the surrounding fleshy constructs. With a crisp "crack," a small, foremost fleshy construct was instantly sliced ​​in two by the metal blades. A viscous, dark red liquid gushed from its body, falling to the ground and merging with the rotting flesh. But shockingly, the severed fleshy construct was not truly dead. Its two halves wriggled rapidly within the rotting flesh on the ground, quickly regrowing the missing parts and restoring itself to a complete fleshy construct. It continued its rapid advance towards the liquid metal humanoid, as if the previous attack had caused it no real damage.

Upon seeing this, the crimson optical sensor of the liquid metal humanoid flickered slightly, a hint of surprise and wariness flashing in its eyes. It hadn't expected these flesh-and-blood constructs to possess such powerful regenerative abilities; even when cleaved in two, they could quickly recover completely—clearly beyond its comprehension. But it didn't give up, continuing its attack. Its metal blade swung relentlessly, slashing at the surrounding flesh-and-blood constructs time and again. A series of crisp "crack" sounds rang out, each accompanied by the shattering of a flesh-and-blood construct. Thick, dark red liquid gushed from the constructs' bodies, staining the rotting flesh on the ground and its own metal blades crimson.

No matter how many flesh-and-blood constructs it destroyed, more would sprout from the rotting flesh on the ground, filling the gaps. Moreover, their growth rate far exceeded the rate of destruction. For every one it slashed, two, three, or even more flesh-and-blood constructs would spring forth from the decaying flesh, continuing their attack. For every one it pierced, that construct would quickly recover, nourished by the rotting flesh, and rejoin the siege. These flesh-and-blood constructs seemed endless; they surged forward relentlessly, their bodies relentlessly assaulting the liquid metal humanoid's defenses, attempting to completely engulf, destroy, and devour it.

The liquid metal humanoid continued its tenacious resistance, constantly adjusting its attack patterns. Sometimes it slashed with sharp metal blades, sometimes it slammed with a giant metal hammer, sometimes it transformed into a liquid form to evade the flesh-and-blood constructs' attacks, and sometimes it coalesced into a hard metal shield to block their onslaught. Its attacks remained incredibly powerful, each strike capable of destroying a large number of flesh-and-blood constructs. However, there were simply too many of these constructs, and their regenerative abilities were too strong. Its attacks couldn't inflict any substantial damage on them. Instead, as time passed, its energy began to show a slight depletion, and the flow of the silvery-gray liquid metal on its surface slowed slightly. Although still powerful, it had lost its initial composure.

The flesh-and-blood constructs seemed to sense a slight depletion of the liquid metal humanoid's energy. They became even more ferocious and crazed, their speed increasing dramatically. Countless flesh-and-blood constructs pounced on the liquid metal humanoid, tightly enveloping it with their own bodies, relentlessly eroding its surface with their fleshy pores and stabbing at its body with their spikes and protrusions. A viscous, dark red liquid seeped from the flesh-and-blood constructs onto the liquid metal humanoid's surface, attempting to corrode and decompose its metallic body.

The liquid metal humanoid's silvery-gray liquid metal surface flowed more erratically, and its light dimmed. It struggled desperately, trying to break free from the fleshy structures enveloping it. Its metal blades swung incessantly, slicing through the fleshy structures. Its body twisted and contorted, trying to escape the constraints of the fleshy structures, but they clung to it tightly, like maggots clinging to a bone. No matter how much it struggled, it could not escape. Moreover, more and more fleshy structures continued to pounce on it, enveloping its body and shrinking its space for movement smaller and smaller.

Only half a minute had passed when the liquid metal humanoid was completely engulfed by countless fleshy structures. Its entire body was enveloped in thick fleshy structures, obscuring any trace of its silvery-gray metallic luster. Only a massive, twisted mass of flesh could be seen writhing on the ground, and the faint sounds of metal breaking could be heard—the sounds of the liquid metal humanoid being eroded and compressed by the fleshy structures. These fleshy structures tightly enveloped it, using their fleshy pores and viscous liquid to continuously erode its metallic body, corroding and decomposing it bit by bit. At the same time, the rotting flesh began to seep into its body, attempting to completely parasitize and devour it.

The liquid metal humanoid continued its stubborn resistance, its energy rapidly depleting. The silvery-gray liquid metal on its surface began to melt and decompose. The corroded and decomposed liquid metal mixed with the viscous liquid of the flesh-and-blood structure, forming a murky mass that was continuously being devoured by the flesh-and-blood structure. Its scarlet optical sensors grew dimmer and weaker, gradually losing their former sharpness. Its attacks became increasingly powerless; the metal blades could no longer easily shatter the flesh-and-blood structure, and could only be swung weakly, but all of this was in vain.

Those fleshy constructs gave it no chance to breathe; they continued to erode and decompose its body, constantly parasitizing and devouring its energy and metallic form. The struggles of the liquid metal humanoid grew weaker and weaker, the silvery-gray liquid metal on its surface dwindled and became increasingly turbid. Finally, it was completely corroded, decomposed, and parasitized by the fleshy constructs. Its body could no longer maintain its humanoid outline or its liquid form, turning into a pile of broken, flesh-covered metal remains, devoid of all vitality, and never moving again.

After completely devouring and decomposing the liquid metal humanoid, the fleshy structures encasing its remains did not pause. They slowly wriggled, carrying the broken remnants of the liquid metal humanoid, and moved towards the crack in the ground. Their movement was slow but resolute; with each step, they dragged the remaining remnants of the liquid metal humanoid a little further into the crack. The crack in the ground continued to widen, and the rotting flesh within continued to pulsate slowly, emitting a thick stench of decay and a strange life force, like a gigantic monster opening its gaping maw, waiting to devour the last remnants.

Before long, the flesh-and-blood constructs, carrying the tattered remains of the liquid metal humanoids, reached the edge of the ground fissure. Then, they slowly wriggled, dragging the remains bit by bit into the cracked ground, into the rotting flesh hidden beneath. Once the remains were completely submerged, the flesh-and-blood constructs encasing them began to change. Their bodies gradually rotted and decomposed, turning into clumps of viscous, dark red liquid. This liquid slowly flowed into the cracks in the ground and walls, once again merging with the rotting flesh hidden beneath, becoming part of the flesh-and-blood network without leaving a trace.

As the fleshy structures decayed, decomposed, and fused together, the tremors on the ground gradually weakened, becoming weaker and weaker until they finally stopped completely. The cracks in the ground also began to change; the rotting flesh around the cracks started to pull and merge together, gradually filling the fissures. The holes and cracks in the walls and ceiling were also slowly filled and covered by the seeping rotting flesh. This process, though slow, was remarkably orderly. The rotting flesh, as if alive, cooperated to repair the damaged ground and walls, completely closing all the cracks and holes, restoring them to their original state.

About ten minutes later, everything in the room returned to calm, as if the fierce battle had never happened. The cracks in the floor had been completely closed, and the holes and gaps in the walls and ceiling had been filled. Although the floor was still covered with a thick layer of dust, gravel, and broken mechanical parts, the rotting flesh had all disappeared, leaving only faint, eerie dark red marks as proof of its existence. The putrid smell and strange odor in the air had also thinned considerably, leaving only a faint trace, barely perceptible, mixed in with the air.

The room fell silent once more. There was no sound, no movement, only the old machine in the center of the room, parasitized by rotting flesh, remained still and unchanged. The rotting flesh on the machine's surface continued to pulsate slowly, like a faint heartbeat. Each pulsation caused the machine to vibrate slightly, emitting a weak and eerie life force and energy fluctuations. The viscous, dark red liquid continued to slowly seep from the pores of the flesh, dripping onto the floor with a soft "drip, drip" sound that sounded particularly jarring and eerie in the deathly silence of the room.

The skyscraper had returned to its former state, outwardly indistinguishable from other abandoned buildings—dilapidated, desolate, and lifeless. But only its interior concealed terrifying secrets. The rotting flesh hidden beneath the floor, walls, and ceiling still pulsated slowly, maintaining a faint sign of life. They were interconnected, forming a vast, eerie network of flesh and blood. The old machine, parasitized by the rotting flesh, was the core of this network. It sat silently in the center of the room, like a sleeping monster, waiting for its next prey, waiting for the moment to awaken once more.

As the smoke and dust in the air gradually dissipated, a faint ray of light shone through the broken window of the building, illuminating the old machine in the center of the room and the slowly pulsating, rotting flesh on its surface. Under the light, the decaying flesh appeared even more eerie and terrifying; its color took on an unsettling dark red hue, and the holes and bumps on its surface became more clearly visible. The viscous liquid shimmered with an eerie luster under the light. The old machine, illuminated by the light, appeared even more dilapidated and ancient, the dust and rust on its surface more pronounced.

There was no sound, no movement. The entire room, the entire building, the entire ruins, fell into a deathly silence once again. Only the rotting flesh on the old machine continued to pulsate slowly. Only the occasional "drip, drip" of liquid would appear briefly before falling silent again.