October 18th.

Five months exactly since the apocalypse began. On the Mingfa Camp’s northwestern perimeter, the two terminal ends of the Dadon Moat were cut through. Water from Dafangyong Reservoir and Dongpu Reservoir flooded into the channel — forty meters wide, six meters deep — and the camp’s northwestern approach was sealed. A small garrison at the bridge spanning the midpoint was all that would be needed. Anything capable of crossing that moat was beyond ordinary troops to stop regardless.

Shen Cong had parked Great Vajra by Dafangyong Reservoir and was sitting on the roof watching the distant completion ceremony. The speeches and the crowd noise drifted over.

He watched for a few minutes. Got bored. Drove through.

The engine’s roar momentarily cut across the ceremony’s atmosphere. Great Vajra crossed the preserved bridge — the only intact road out of camp, a section of the original eight-lane Sili River Road left uncut when the moat was dug — and headed north.

He had a mission.

Long-Feng County, Tushan Township. At the base of Tushan Hill sat Jiushan Lake, an artificial reservoir from before the apocalypse. A militia squad on patrol had spotted something there: a ten-meter hedgehog, each quill as thick as a human thigh. In a defensive ball, the thing would be nearly impenetrable.

The footage had been studied carefully. The Huoxue had classified it as near-Heavyweight and named it the Spike King.

Shen Cong had lost interest in hunting Lightweight and Featherweight prey. The Spike King was worth his attention. Upgrading his weapons meant acquiring near-Heavyweight Activity cores — that was the practical ceiling of what he could solo hunt.

The Violent Ape King had provided his Ape King series. Losses since then:
Two Ape King Javelins — gone with the scouting team.
One Ape King War Hammer — gone with the scouting team.
One Ape King Long Blade — gone with the scouting team.

The Giant Condor’s massive beak, harvested a few days earlier, had been processed into two strangely-shaped Condor Blades from the upper mandible, two Condor Arrows from the tip, and a Condor Spade from the lower mandible — an engineering tool, primarily. With the Condor Spade, digging through soil was absurdly fast.

He ran the current inventory as he drove.

Ape King series (1.567H): one long blade, one war hammer, two arrows, four throwing knives, two knuckle dusters, two daggers, approximately twenty pellets.
Condor series (1.334H): two blades, two arrows, one spade.
Dog-Croc Warhammers (0.726H): three remaining.

Everything below 0.5H was only useful against Lightweight and below — negligible against Heavyweight-tier threats.

The Golden Jiao horn cores are too soft for weapons. The Violent Ape King’s remaining tusks are serving as the Violent Ape Totem — leave those.

If the Spike King delivers, it should provide a full weapons set. Quills that thick — even one would yield enough material.

Sixteen kilometers. At Great Vajra’s speed, minutes.

Tushan came into view.

Shen Cong raised his binoculars and scanned Jiushan Lake’s shoreline. The lake was visible. The Spike King wasn’t.

He launched the DJI Generation 8.

At a hundred meters altitude, the drone found it — five kilometers away, at Daguantang Reservoir. The Spike King was rooting in the earth at the water’s edge, digging for something.

Nothing above Lightweight-tier in the surrounding area. Just the one target. Take the Hu-Rong Expressway spur to Daguantang — that’s the fastest approach.

Great Vajra moved. A few minutes to reach Yuandun Village, the closest point to Daguantang Reservoir. Shen Cong climbed to the roof and used binoculars for a full five minutes, studying the Spike King’s behavior and building a tactical picture.

Near-Heavyweight. Required serious caution.

The quill covering made direct attack difficult — there was no easy angle. But watching closely, he noticed a pattern: every time the Spike King dug hard into the ground, it reared back and straightened its posture. That exposed the head.

The head was proportionally tiny relative to the body — barely larger than a small dog’s. At a hundred meters, even a small flinch would dodge an incoming arrow. And the creature was slow in locomotion but surprisingly flexible in posture.

Miss once, let it curl into a defensive ball, and the engagement was over. Nothing was getting through a rolled Spike King. The quills were a meter and a half long and as thick as a thigh — the imagery of being impaled by one was not something he needed to dwell on.

But the eyesight seems weak. It’s relying heavily on scent.

A tactic formed. Wash the Half-Activated Armor’s surface scent off entirely, then close the distance slowly. Within twenty meters, a hand crossbow loaded with an Ape King Arrow would hit hard enough to be lethal. The Spike King couldn’t outrun him — if the approach failed, retreat was always an option.

War hammer won’t be useful here. The long blade can be thrown like a javelin.

Take the shot. If it goes wrong, run. If it doesn’t, enormous payoff.

He showered quickly, stripping the armor’s scent, gathered his equipment, and went in on foot.

The ground around Daguantang Reservoir was sparsely treed — open terrain with scattered cover. But a broad-leafed vine carpeted the ground in patches, and the Spike King appeared to be digging out this plant’s root system. Something good underground, apparently.

Shen Cong picked leaves from the vine at a safe distance and smeared the cut stems’ sap across his armor — another layer of scent masking. He tucked a few leaves into the armor joints for visual camouflage, dropped into a low crouch, and began moving.

Eight hundred meters. Twenty minutes.

The Spike King’s alertness was genuine — it raised its snout and tested the air several times. Each time, Shen Cong froze. Each time, it found nothing and went back to digging.

He finally reached the position he’d identified in the creature’s foraging path — a patch of broad-leafed vine growth where it was heading — and settled in. Hand crossbow ready. Ape King Arrow nocked but concealed. He waited.

The Spike King was after something that looked, from this distance, very much like a large sweet potato.

Greed was the original sin.

Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty.

Shen Cong had patience. The Spike King had territorial instincts — no competing evolved beast would enter its range and interrupt this. He could wait as long as necessary.

Thirty-five minutes in, the Spike King made a mistake.

A large flat stone was sitting on top of something it wanted. It reared up on its hind legs and pushed against the stone with both forelegs, rolling it aside.

The entire head and soft underbelly were exposed.

Shen Cong was already moving before the position fully opened.

The Ape King Arrow sang out.

He dropped the crossbow and had the Ape King Long Blade in motion immediately — hurled like a javelin.

Two strikes in sequence, half a second apart.

The Spike King registered the threat and tried to move. Too late.

Thud.

The Ape King Arrow found the eye and buried itself completely. The Ape King Long Blade punched into the soft underbelly.

Blood hit the ground.

(End of Chapter 171)