"Don't want what?" Henry Watson gave a brief laugh; in the dim light, his smile looked ferocious.

Adam Carter didn't answer. Henry Watson released the hand pressing on Adam Carter's shoulder and reached for his belt. He could easily pin down Adam Carter with just one hand, and this seemed to give him immense pleasure—his grin widened, his tone rough and mocking: "Baby, what can you do with that little strength of yours? Can't drive, can't handle heavy weapons, when you meet a monster you can only wait to die. Why did your teammates even bring you out here? Just to watch?"

As he spoke, he gripped Adam Carter's neck, leaning in close, his stubbled cheek pressed against Adam Carter's neck, a choking smell of smoke wafting over. "I've seen plenty of little whores like you... but never one this pretty. Which mercenary team were you with before?"

Adam Carter gasped for breath, Henry Watson pressing down hard on him, a hot, wet tongue sliding over his skin. He turned his head away, coughing from the smoke, his right hand groping in the darkness until he finally found the dagger Victor Harris had tossed him earlier.

Just then, from two compartments over, where Anthony Carter was, a loud commotion suddenly erupted, as if something had been knocked over.

"Don't rush, blackie," Henry Watson shouted with a laugh. "You'll get your turn soon."

But his words seemed to have no effect, because footsteps were coming this way.

Henry Watson cursed under his breath, yanked Adam Carter up, pinned him against the wall of the vehicle, and roughly tore at his shirt collar.

Adam Carter stopped resisting. He gripped the dagger tightly, quietly watching the dim corridor. White mycelium silently spread across the floor beside him, as if brewing something.

But in the next second, all his movements froze.

—A monster with a human torso but three pairs of slender legs extending from its back dragged its curled, soft wings as it slowly emerged from the corridor, two blood-red compound eyes glowing eerily atop its head.

Chapter 4

Its skin was black—the color of Anthony Carter's skin. But at this moment, his human face was twisted and deformed; where his eyes had been was now covered in dense brown scales, his nose stretched diagonally downward into a huge crevice, his mouth protruded outward, and a long, curled black proboscis extended from the center.

He stopped, the edges of his wings scraping against the vehicle wall, making a sharp sound.

"Anthony Carter, what the hell are you doing?" Henry Watson's disgruntled voice rang out. "I don't like being watched."

With that, he lowered his head again. Adam Carter felt a weight press down on him, teeth biting into his shoulder and neck, skin ground beneath sharp points, a fine pain spreading. But he couldn't care about that now, his whole body tensed as he locked eyes with the monster that Anthony Carter had become.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

The wings behind Anthony Carter trembled slightly, his mouthparts curling in the air.

"Scared?" Henry Watson, lying on top of him, seemed to sense his stiffness, muttering unclearly, "What are you pretending for?" Then he gripped his waist tightly and bit down hard on his skin.

At that moment—

The buzzing of vibrating wings filled the air. Anthony Carter's six slender legs pressed low to the ground, his body leaning forward, sinking and gathering strength, then, like a long-legged spider, he charged toward them!

Wind whistled through the cramped space. Adam Carter's pupils dilated instantly, his body transforming in a flash, switching to the soft, agile form of his mushroom body. Mycelium swept through the compartment, nearly filling the entire space, briefly blocking Anthony Carter's line of sight.

Immediately after, Adam Carter suddenly felt the human body on top of him stiffen for a moment, cough violently, then flail in panic with all four limbs. "Fuck, what is this—"

He looked down and saw that Henry Watson, with one bite, had bitten through countless soft mycelial threads, which had gotten into his airway and esophagus, making him cough in terror and pain.

At the same time, countless more mycelial threads were being severed by Anthony Carter's forelimbs. The mycelium was soft and easily broken, with no toughness at all, buying only five or six seconds of escape time.

Adam Carter quickly estimated the distance between himself and Anthony Carter, swiftly wrapped his clothes with mycelium, and slipped out through the chaos between Henry Watson's body, regaining his freedom.

His snow-white mycelium surged toward the door like a tide. At the door, he shifted back to human form and pressed the switch by the door.

With a dull thud, the door popped open. Adam Carter instantly retracted all his mycelium, grabbed Henry Watson's collar, and rolled out together. The two of them tumbled out of the vehicle, landing hard in the sand.

—At least it was safer here than in the cramped compartment.

But only a moment later, Anthony Carter also poked his head out from the door, a piercing buzz filling the air. He first beat his wings and flew four or five meters into the air, then suddenly dove down—

As Anthony Carter took off, Adam Carter quickly scrambled to his feet and ran back as fast as he could.

But Henry Watson just lay on his back in the sand, eyes unfocused, as Anthony Carter's sharp forelimbs instantly pierced through his chest.