Evolving infinitely from ground zero
Chapter 66 - 66: The man who eats miceChapter 66: The man who eats mice
Translator: 549690339
“You… uh, kill, you killed my brother.”
“Every day, every day in the vegetable market, with rat-catching guns… uh, kill, you killed my brother.”
“I, I demand blood for blood!!!”
In the instant that these last words were uttered, the man’s body had completely transformed, becoming a rat creature with eight crimson eyes on its face.
By this time, the law enforcement officers were already fully armed, frantically firing powerful guns at the rat person.
Unfortunately, the rat person was extremely agile, continuously seeking cover to dodge attacks, making it hard for the bullets to hit him.
However, the law enforcement officers weren’t really trying to hit him, they just wanted to suppress him, biding time until the Mechanically Modified Humans arrived to clear the scene.
This rat person was not too bright and hadn’t realized this. He was still hoarsely screaming for vengeance for his brothers, trying to break through the onslaught of bullets with the aim of slaughtering all the law enforcement officers in front of him.
“Chief, headquarters responded that the Mechanically Modified Humans are all out on missions, and it will be about ten minutes before they can send someone to support us. We’re running low on ammunition, and I’m afraid we won’t last until support arrives!”
One of the law enforcement team members said in a panic.
The law enforcement station he belonged to was only street-level, and the ammunition storage inside was so meager that it couldn’t sustain constant heavy fire.
“Continue with the suppressive fire. I’m going to get the car, and then we all get in the car and lead this rat person to the outskirts, delaying for time until support arrives.”
After dropping this line, the chief of the law enforcement station hurried off to bring the patrol car.
He had realized that this rat person wasn’t very sharp; he was singularly focused on killing the law enforcement officers to avenge his deceased rat kin.
Based on this, as long as they later drove the patrol car with all the officers toward the outskirts, this not-so-smart rat person would definitely give chase.
Soon, the chief of the law enforcement station drove the patrol car over, instructing everyone to get in.
Then, with a stomp on the accelerator, he sped towards the outskirts.
Sure enough, the rat person immediately gave chase to the car, vowing not to stop until he had killed everyone inside.
The chase lasted for about three minutes.
At that time, the Mechanically Modified Human from the law enforcement headquarters finally arrived.
Seeing this, the station chief immediately slammed the accelerator to the floor, throwing off the now somewhat exhausted rat person behind the car and giving the Mechanically Modified Human enough room to act.
As soon as the car had outpaced the rat person, the air-hovering Mechanically Modified Human instantly unleashed its full firepower, raining all its equipped ammunition down on the rat person.
After expending all its ammunition, it switched off its antigravity propulsion and slowly descended, holding a specially made alloy sword as it entered the thick smoke.
Then, with a furrowed brow, it discovered that the rat person’s form was no longer on the ground.
There was only a pitch-black hole, seemingly bottomless, and bloodstains and pieces of flesh scattered around.
The rat person had dug a hole and escaped amidst the barrage of ammo.
But the good news was, judging from the bloodstains and flesh on the ground, the rat person was definitely seriously injured and probably couldn’t have gone far. There was a chance to track him down and eliminate him.
Having analyzed this, the Mechanically Modified Human quickly reactivated its antigravity propulsion and ascended into the sky, circling like a hawk as it searched for any trace of the rat person.
In a village within the city, inside a detached single-family house.
Lin Zichen, after finishing his meal and resting for a while, went upstairs to his room to engage in high-intensity training.
The training was diverse, no longer limited to basic movements such as push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and pull-ups.
Instead, he extended his regimen to include more nuanced exercises. ƒгeewёbnovel.com
Training fingers, wrists, neck, and so on—systematically exercising every muscle in his body.
This training session lasted four hours.
Lin Zichen felt somewhat tired and thus concluded his workout for the evening.
At that moment, he was not very sweaty, nor was his breathing particularly disordered; he was just a little tired.
This was the result of the constant training under the principle “use it or lose it” over the years.
His physical strength had grown stronger.
He became increasingly resistant to fatigue.
Sitting on the ground to rest, Lin Zichen took out his phone and opened the writer’s backend to check the data.
Having written for over half a month, with a steady daily update of more than 4,000 words, he was now close to 100,000 words.
The data was very good, with over ten thousand collections.
Most importantly, the reader response was very positive, and many readers said they would definitely support the subscription once the book was on the shelves.
“The new book still has several recommendations to go, and once those are done, the data could be even better, not to mention how much I could earn in the first month after the launch…”
Looking at the backend data in the writer’s assistant app, expectation couldn’t help but spread across Lin Zichen’s face.
Afterwards, he got up, took a set of clean clothes, and went to take a shower.
Once he had showered and dried his hair, and seeing that the time was just about right, he turned off the lights and went to bed.
Before sleep, remembering that he hadn’t checked his physical data in a month, he immediately set an alarm for 3 a.m. on his phone.
He planned to go out and check his progress in the middle of the night.
3 a.m. sharp.
The phone alarm went off punctually.
Lin Zichen was very determined, didn’t linger in bed, got straight up, got dressed, and as usual, put on a hat and a mask to cover his face.
Then, he quietly left the house with the tools for measuring his data.
He made his way expertly, avoiding surveillance cameras.
Before long.
Lin Zichen arrived at a deserted area on the outskirts, making sure no one was around, and immediately began to test his data.
About ten minutes later.
The data came out.
Sprinting 100 meters took just 3.43 seconds.
He could vertically jump up to 7.22 meters.
He could lift a car weighing around 1750kg with one hand.
The progress was quite noticeable.
If he could maintain this rate of improvement, he estimated that by next semester, his 100-meter sprint would break the 3-second barrier, vertical jump would surpass 8 meters, and one-handed lift would exceed 2000kg.
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All of these achievements were purely through his own physical prowess, without any aid from mechanical modifications or genetic fusion.
The progress was too steady.
If he could keep improving like this, Lin Zichen felt he would eventually become a saint in flesh and could punch Mechanically Modified Humans and kick Genetic Integrators.
Lost in such thoughts for a while, he soon snapped back to reality, gathered up the measuring tools on the ground, and jogged home.
On the way, passing by a suburban garbage dump, he saw someone squatting on the ground, rummaging through trash, seemingly starving and looking for food.
On a closer look, it was a man, tattered and covered in blood.
A homeless man?
Covered in blood, had he been beaten?
Looking quite pitiful, he thought about making a call to have the security team come to rescue him.
Thinking so, Lin Zichen took out his phone.
Just as he was about to call, he suddenly witnessed a shockingly horrific scene.
The man in the garbage pile suddenly reached out and grabbed a rat from in front of him, hesitated with a pained expression, then stuffed the rat into his mouth and began to gnaw on it as if it were bread.
Under the powerful bite force, the rat was instantly bleeding profusely and died on the spot.
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