The System Arrived Four Years Early, but the Anomaly Is Still a Juvenile - Chapter 96

The word “lure” might sound simple, but actually guiding the ghost turtle through the mountains was fraught with challenges.

The ghost turtle’s body, fused with the skyscraper, crawled over the mountaintop, kicking up clouds of dust. Its grotesque, rotting head stretched dozens of meters long, shrouded in thick black fog.

Wherever it passed, ancient trees as thick as barrels were instantly flattened, their splintering echoes ringing through the forest. The building-sized “shell” crushed the mountainside, sending a dust storm barreling toward Shen Ge.

The air reeked of charred debris and the turtle’s decay—so overpowering that even Shen Ge’s iron will was nearly shattered. He was on the verge of vomiting.

Thankfully, his Ghost-Leather Boots provided unmatched mobility, which was exactly why he’d chosen them without hesitation. Though his Ghost-Stomach and Ghost-Skin Armor were rarely used, their materials actually came from a higher-tier (Tier-2) supernatural entity than the boots.

This proved a crucial point: for functional ghost-energy equipment, higher tier didn’t always mean better—it depended on the situation.

Shen Ge moved fast, but the dust storm kicked up by the turtle’s massive form was closing in. Seizing an opportunity, he leaped onto the creature’s head, using his Ghost Gloves’ “Unyielding” grip to cling to two chunks of rotting flesh.

The stench was like being buried in a pile of plague-ridden pigs—so vile it felt like his skull might crack open and his brain melt.

Even the ghost-energy protective suit can’t block this. How is it so foul? Shen Ge grimaced. At this rate, he’d die from the smell before the turtle killed him.

Worse, the rot was crawling with squirming black worms. Anyone with trypophobia would’ve dropped dead on the spot.

Trapped between a rock and a hard place, Shen Ge weighed his options:

• Fall? Get crushed or swallowed whole.

• Stay? Endure maggots and stench so potent it made his grad school days feel like a vacation.

“Glooork!”

Suddenly, a guttural swallowing noise—mixed with something eerily like a rooster’s crow—echoed from afar.

Through the haze, Shen Ge spotted a rolling mass of black fog charging toward them. A six-to-seven-meter-tall, fog-wreathed ghost chicken was barreling forward—chasing Luo Chenguang, who sprinted for his life.

Originally, Luo Chenguang had planned to retreat after delivering his message to Old He. But whether due to prolonged combat or sheer bad luck, the ghost chicken had fixated on Old He and the Chongqing branch soldiers, pecking at them relentlessly.

Though experienced, Old He was in his sixties. His stamina faltered quickly.

Luo Chenguang couldn’t just watch his mentor die. Snatching an assault rifle and grenade from a soldier, he grappled onto the chicken’s back, blasted a small hole with gunfire, lobbed in the grenade, and bolted.

BOOM.

The explosion was about as effective as a firecracker tossed at an elephant—minimal damage, maximum insult.

Now, the ghost chicken’s wrath was laser-focused on Luo Chenguang. It screeched and gave chase, its beak snapping at his heels as he fled downhill.

“Investigator Shen—HELP!” Luo Chenguang wailed.

But Shen Ge was busy not dying. Just as the chicken’s maw loomed over Luo Chenguang, a figure swung through the trees like a wraith.

Fang Mingyue!

As she zipped overhead, her Ghost-Bone Staff morphed into a skeletal cage, snatching Luo Chenguang off the ground milliseconds before the chicken’s strike.

Though Fang Mingyue’s training surpassed most soldiers’, holding the grapple line with one hand and controlling the cage with the other pushed her to her limits.

Gritting her teeth, she strained—until the staff slipped from her grasp. The cage tumbled downhill, Luo Chenguang inside, crashing through branches and rocks until he was battered and dazed.

Fang Mingyue swung back, anchored her grapple to a tree, and hauled the cage to a stop. Blood streaked her palms from the friction, but she ignored the pain, freeing Luo Chenguang with a grimace.

“Are you okay?”

Luo Chenguang’s heart ached at her shredded hands. She risked herself for me? He reached for them, ready to play the gallant protector—

—only for Fang Mingyue to briskly bandage her wounds with torn cloth and demand:

“Investigator Shen lured out the Tier-4 entity. I saw him fall into the mountains. Have you seen him? Where is he?”

Luo Chenguang’s romantic fantasy shattered like glass. Of course she’d ask about him first.

“Well? Why are you alone? Where’s Old He?” she pressed.

“Old He’s on the other side of the mountain. Investigator Shen’s keeping the ghost turtle busy—he told me to lure the chicken toward it so they’d fight!”

“And you didn’t lead it there yet?” Fang Mingyue snatched her staff and grappled away without another word.

“Hey—!”

Luo Chenguang’s sprained ankle left him hobbling, forced to watch her vanish into the dust storm.

Meanwhile, Fang Mingyue soared back toward the chaos. Spotting the ghost chicken, she swung overhead and lobbed two grenades straight into its crimson eyes.

“GLOOORK!”

Blinded and enraged, the chicken pursued her, its shark-like maw shearing through trees with every snap.

Fang Mingyue agilely led it into the dust storm—but visibility was zero. She couldn’t find Shen Ge.

“Investigator Shen! I brought the chicken!” she shouted into the haze.

No response.

Unbeknownst to her, Shen Ge had already spotted the chicken’s fog. Pressing his rifle into the turtle’s rotting flesh, he unloaded a barrage of bullets, drawing its attention.

[Warning!]
[Host has attracted a Tier-3 supernatural entity. Current attributes are insufficient for combat. Flee immediately!]

“Only Tier-3?” Shen Ge frowned. Against the Tier-4 “Unyielding,” a Tier-3 might not last long.

“If the chicken loses and gets eaten, could the turtle evolve to Tier-5?”

No time to dwell. Swatting maggots off his suit, Shen Ge braced to assist the chicken.

Unlike lower-tier entities that fled from the turtle’s aura, the ghost chicken’s eyes glowed brighter at the stench of rot. It flapped featherless wings and lunged, its beak splitting into jagged halves to clamp onto the turtle’s neck.

The turtle retaliated instantly, its own head bifurcating into a monstrous maw that bit clean through the chicken’s wing and a chunk of its torso.

The two titans rolled downhill, flattening half the village. Had Fang Mingyue not evacuated the civilians earlier, the ground would’ve been littered with pancakes—human-flavored.

Shen Ge knew the chicken stood no chance alone. If it died, the turtle would absorb its energy, escalating the disaster.

“Pitting ghosts against ghosts” sounds easy, but finding two high-tier entities in one place is nearly impossible.

With no time to strategize, Shen Ge scaled the turtle’s head using his gloves. As the chicken’s beak hurtled toward him, he leaped straight into the turtle’s gaping throat.

Inside, the chicken’s fangs pierced the turtle’s hide, their tips visibly protruding through the flesh.

The turtle roared, retracting its neck into its shell to shake free, then counterattacked, tearing off more of the chicken’s body.

Clutching rotting meat with his gloves, Shen Ge dodged a falling hunk of chicken flesh that nearly dragged him into the stomach. He wedged himself into a crevice, catching his breath.

“System, it’s your time to shine. No fancy gear—just give me molotovs and explosives!”

His only hope was the system’s “general store.” With 2,651 points left, he gambled on a 10x draw.

White flashes—mostly weapons!

• 2 crates of molotovs

• 6 grenades

• 1 fragmentation grenade

• 2 submachine guns

• 1 high-yield timed explosive

Shen Ge crammed the haul into a meat pocket. Outside, the battling behemoths leveled the village.

Blind to the chaos, he lobbed explosives wildly. Grenades that’d normally shred tanks were mere firecrackers in the turtle’s gullet.

But the molotovs worked. Flames licked the throat, making the flesh contract defensively.

Shen Ge’s suit, saturated with ghost energy (100%), now filtered air to keep him alive.

The turtle and chicken wrestled savagely, their collision reducing the village to rubble. The chicken was missing half its body, while the turtle had lost chunks of flesh—both digesting each other’s energy.

Yet the turtle was winning.

Shen Ge burned through his arsenal, then drew another 10x batch—including an RPG!

Three rockets later, he dumped 10% of his free points into mental energy, drew his cleaver, and hacked at the turtle’s throat like a deranged butcher.

Chopping through a neck thicker than a high-rise wasn’t about skill—it was sheer endurance.

Shen Ge carved deeper, chugging energy cans, unleashing “Collapse” to ravage the turtle from within.

This was the only way. If the turtle lived, everything was for nothing.

Energy depleted, he ripped off his mask, devoured ghost apples, and pressed on. The deeper he went, the more the rot clung like quicksand, forcing him to rely on his gloves to pull free.

Time blurred. His mind and body neared collapse. Like a parasite, he slashed through meat, tunneled forward, and slashed again.

Then—

His cleaver punctured a pulsing membrane, sending him tumbling into a vast chamber.

Before him, in a hellscape of rotting flesh, a giant black heart hung suspended. Half-decomposed, yet beating fiercely.

Adrenaline surged. Shen Ge staggered toward it, cleaver raised.

“REPORT!”

Wang Hanma burst into the command tent, trembling with excitement. “Chief! Chief! He did it—Shen Ge actually did it! The ghost-energy fog over Dongyu Village is dispersing! The ghost domain is collapsing!”

Deng Yuqi and the others sprinted outside, staring at the horizon.

The village, once swallowed by impenetrable fog, now shone under clearing skies.

The ghost domain was vanishing.

He’d done it.

He’d created a miracle.