He woke up sharp and rested.
Every trace of last night’s exhaustion was gone. Body and mind at full capacity.
The sun hadn’t risen yet.
He’d already washed up, worked through a boxing form, and eaten a full breakfast before it crested the horizon. Then he went to the greenhouse to check on the Treasure Bees, the Activity Sweet Potatoes, Life-Saving Yellow Soybeans, Activity Peach seedling, Awakening Lotus, and Mechanical Vine.
All normal.
He moved on to the ant burrow.
The colony had grown considerably. Five ant pupae, seven larvae, twelve eggs — Blackhead busy with all of it around the clock. The Antgod, Talent boosted from the meteorite fragment exposure, had grown another increment in size.
“Hm.”
Something was different today. Among the twelve eggs, there was a thirteenth — twice the size of any of the others.
“What’s this?” He sent the inquiry through his perceptual link with the Antgod.
Her response came quickly: Evolution… stronger… special.
He thought through what that meant. “You’re saying this egg is an evolved egg — or that it’s a special egg you laid deliberately?”
Special.
“A special egg you produced. Is this differentiation?”
He picked up the oversized egg and examined it. The Talent reading: 0.6H — compared to approximately 0.45H for the standard eggs, a gap of 0.15H. And Vajra Ants gained additional Talent during molting and pupation.
Which meant this individual might eventually reach approximately 0.8H Talent. Higher than the Antgod’s current 0.774H.
“The Vajra Ant colony can differentiate. Excellent.”
He set the egg back down, visibly pleased.
Differentiation was a natural phenomenon in certain ant species — analogous to the natural variation in body type among any population, but structured. Different ant breeds had different growth patterns. Species like leafcutter ants and bullet ants could differentiate into large, medium, and small worker and soldier castes, along with ultra-large specialist soldiers and divine-tier major workers — individuals that could be dozens of times the size of standard ants.
Among hobbyist ant-keepers, the most anticipated moment was when a colony produced specialist-tier individuals. A specialist soldier standing among ordinary workers was like a Hulk walking through a crowd of ordinary people.
Differentiation typically occurred when the colony had abundant nutrition — specialist individuals consumed vastly more than standard ones, and the colony needed the resources to support them.
He hadn’t expected Vajra Ants to be capable of it.
“Antgod, can you produce more oversized eggs?”
Eat… then can…
“Good. Good. Eat everything. Whatever Activity cores I don’t have a use for — they’re all yours from now on.”
He was developing the enthusiasm of a serious ant hobbyist.
If the Vajra Ant colony grew large enough to differentiate specialist soldiers and divine-tier major workers — what a sight that would be. The Antgod was already substantially larger than him. Specialist soldiers and divine-tier major workers were comparable in size to the queen. The Vajra Ant versions of those castes could be extraordinary.
“Maybe I could even ride a specialist soldier or divine-tier major worker someday.” He paused on that thought. “Though the winged males and reproductive females would be a problem — they’d hatch and immediately go on nuptial flights.”
Humans were never satisfied. Cross one mountain and already you’re eyeing the next.
The first differentiated egg hadn’t even hatched and he was already fantasizing about riding it.
He left the burrow and got Great Vajra moving.
The plan: try the Ningluo Expressway, detour through Laihe County in Chuzhou, connect to the Changshen Expressway, and continue north toward Huai’an.
Standard procedure first: drone up, survey before moving.
What came back made him frown.
On the expressway between Yizheng City and Heliuqu District, multiple convoys were visible — vehicles, motorcycles, bicycles, and stilt-walkers — all heading toward Heliuqu.
“They’re coming for me.”
He went to alert immediately. “Yesterday’s rat-catching unit — when the whistle went off. Multiple death-eater organizations must have received the intelligence. They think I’m Eastern Theater Command. They’re coming to kill me.”
“Fifteen kilometers out. And they’re the ones who cut all the roads — they planned this from the start. Tighten the net around me here. The Ningluo Expressway has probably been cut too.”
Two options. Retreat the way he’d come — Hucheng Expressway to Chuma Expressway, through Chuzhou, turn north toward Laihe County as planned. Or break through — Great Vajra’s weight meant no vehicle they had could stop it in a direct collision, and two or three passes would disable their convoy. Once their formation was broken, his choices expanded considerably.
He rejected the second option. Unknown quantity of toxic core weapons. Their ground. Possible traps he couldn’t see.
Move first. This is their territory.
Decision made — and then the drone feed updated before he could bring it back down.
Coming from the direction of Taishan Town: a smaller group moving on foot. Several dozen individuals. Approaching Heliuqu from the other direction.
“How did they come from Pukou District? The Yangtze Bridge is down — I surveyed it.”
Tunnels. Obviously. Nanjing had multiple cross-river tunnels. They’d come through underground and cut off his retreat.
Pincer formation. He wasn’t panicked.
Experience had changed his baseline. Enough situations resolved, enough confrontations survived — his psychology had shifted. Can fight it: fight. Can’t fight it: run.
“Withdraw to Pukou District. Get off their home ground.”
He committed immediately. Great Vajra turned toward Taishan Town.
Stilt-walkers couldn’t keep pace with a vehicle in a serious pursuit — stilts changed the biomechanics of movement, requiring core and hip rotation, demanding exceptional leg and waist strength and balance. Useful for speed and sightlines on normal movement. Not useful for a chase.
They were no comparison to the bouncing stilts anyway. Different tools for different purposes.
Ten minutes later, Great Vajra encountered the Taishan Town group. A mass of sharkskin-clad death-eaters dropped off their stilts and immediately produced shields, hurling brick-shaped objects at the vehicle.
“HEY-HO!”
“Dogs of the Eastern Theater Command — eat grandpa’s hot fresh present!”
The bricks hit Great Vajra’s hull and detonated.
A soft, gum-like substance scattered across the vehicle’s exterior — and immediately began corroding the Activity.
Centipede bombs.
He recognized it instantly. The crude improvised weapons made from centipede venom — one of the death-eaters’ more available toxic core weapons. He could feel the corrosive effect on Great Vajra’s Activity. Not overwhelming in intensity, but the sheer coverage was the problem — too many patches of centipede toxin working simultaneously, starting to outpace the field-force storm’s absorption rate. The cumulative damage was adding up.
Reciprocity is only polite.
He grabbed the assault rifle, opened a firing port, and opened up.
Bone-gold rounds — the stock from New Hefei, lower Activity Value, due for replacement. Not optimal, but functional at close range.
DADADADADADA!
Rounds scattered across the sharkskin armor, throwing sparks. Several death-eaters went down — ones whose sharkskin had insufficient Activity reinforcement, or who’d taken hits to exposed sections. They hit the ground making noise about it.
(End of Chapter 229)