“What is that…”
The same question echoed across the world, in every language, at the same moment.
Official organizations everywhere scrambled to deploy more personnel to monitor the situation. Countless drones rose into the air, flying toward the hideous insects emerging from the fissures.
But before the drones could even get close, they began falling out of the sky one after another. Those with sharp eyes could see that the drones were being sliced cleanly in half—and the culprits were the very insects crawling out of the black cracks.
Yes, what emerged from the black fissures were still insects.
But these insects were nearly two meters long, pitch black all over, with triangular mouths that split open to reveal a massive, dark void—utterly terrifying. On either side of the mouth were two half-meter-long mouthparts, dripping with yellow fluid. When that fluid touched the drones, it produced a sizzling, corrosive sound.
The head alone was enough to strike fear into anyone’s heart. But the insect also had eight sharp limbs, each lethally razor-edged. Clearly, the drones had been sliced apart by those very limbs. Given the killing power, if a person stood before them, they’d be cleaved in two without question.
Beyond that, the insects also had wings. Their backs bore a structure reminiscent of a rhinoceros beetle—hard-shelled, with wings tucked beneath. When they flapped, they emitted the characteristic buzzing drone of insects.
Close-up images of the insects were captured clearly and transmitted to devices in homes across the globe.
At the same time, experts began analyzing what species these insects were, and what the black fissures in the sky actually meant. But answers wouldn’t come quickly—and these uninvited guests from above clearly weren’t going to give humanity time to think.
Sure enough, no sooner had they destroyed all the drones than the insects scattered in every direction, as if following some command. Their destination was obvious: the humans on the ground.
Qin Sang watched the insects descending from the sky, growing clearer by the second, her expression cold and grim.
“Dad, Mom. Hold the Mandarin Duck Blades and be ready to cover me at any moment. I’ll go test the waters first.”
Qin’s father and mother nodded gravely. Both could tell that these strange insects were extremely dangerous—otherwise, their daughter wouldn’t have that look on her face.
But before Qin Sang could make a move, Little Gold—who had been resting in its personal spirit-beast space—suddenly emerged on its own.
“What’s wrong? It’s not your turn yet.”
“Sang Sang, fight. Kill that disgusting thing.”
This was the first time Qin Sang had ever felt such intense battle intent emanating from Little Gold. The little guy had fought mutant insects ferociously before, but back then it had felt more like hunting for food—as natural as an ordinary person going to the market for groceries.
But when faced with these insects from beyond the sky, Little Gold became utterly battle-ready. It was as if it instinctively knew these alien bugs were enemies—enemies that had to be destroyed.
“Alright, let’s go.”
There were things Qin Sang didn’t ask, but judging by Little Gold’s reaction—and a quick glance at the Roasted Goose Space, where Grandpa Goose had indeed surfaced—something flickered through her mind. But soon, she had no time to dwell on it.
Because the enemies overhead had arrived.
—
“Boom…”
“Crash…”
Explosions erupted everywhere. The sounds of battle cries filled the air.
The number of alien insects seemed enormous, but the planet was vast. Once they dispersed and descended, the number each area had to face was relatively manageable—that was one piece of good news.
But the bad news was far more devastating.
These alien bugs were overwhelmingly powerful.
Some soldiers, already strong and having awakened spatial cultivation energy for quite some time, could previously take down a second-evolution mutant insect on their own. But against these descending alien bugs, they could only manage two exchanges before being forced to retreat.
It wasn’t that they lacked skill—it was that these alien insects were simply monstrous.
To humanity, it felt like a dimensional reduction strike.
And Qin Sang experienced that gap in power firsthand.
One alien insect landed in their village and made a beeline straight for Qin Sang’s family—because they were the most conspicuous targets.
Little Gold charged directly at the alien insect, the two racing toward each other in a head-on collision.
Qin Sang, worried that Little Gold might get hurt, quickened her pace to provide support from the flank.
But Little Gold was in an impatient rush. When it was still about two meters from the alien insect, it launched itself straight onto the creature’s head.
It was a lightning-fast move.
But the alien insect’s reaction was equally swift. It swung one of its razor-sharp limbs directly at Little Gold on top of its head.
Fortunately, Little Gold had plenty of combat experience. Though still a baby not even a month old, it had already killed countless insects.
Relying on its incredible bite, Little Gold opened its jaws wide and chomped down on the incoming limb.
CRUNCH…
It wasn’t Little Gold’s teeth that shattered—it was the alien insect’s limb that snapped off in its mouth. Then the little creature grabbed the severed half-limb and, much like a human chewing on sugarcane, crunched it down in a few bites and swallowed it whole.
Yes, humans spit out the pulp when chewing sugarcane. Little Gold eating an insect leg left no scraps at all.
Witnessing this, Qin Sang couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of her mouth.
That little one had some serious bite. The metallic grinding and clashing sound from chewing on that insect leg had given Qin Sang goosebumps that just wouldn’t go away.
At least Little Gold lived up to its species’ traits—with teeth that could bite through anything.
With one strike, the alien insect lost half a limb and let out a strange sonic wave. Qin Sang caught it but couldn’t understand it—all she knew was that right after, the buzzing of wings grew louder, approaching from the distance.
Damn it, this thing could call for backup.
Qin Sang quickly sent this discovery to Xu Lin. She knew he would pass the information on to all combat personnel. And for her, at this moment, all that mattered was fighting.
—
Just as she had in countless battles before, Qin Sang felt the wind speed and the changes in her environment. She channeled energy throughout her body—to her eyes, her arms, her core. Drawing back the Dragon-Howl Bow, she fired directly at the insect flying in from afar.
The first arrow pierced the target, but unlike before, it didn’t go straight through the alien insect’s body.
Clearly, these alien bugs had much tougher bodies than even the second-evolution mutant insects.
The arrow didn’t return, and Qin Sang didn’t recall it. Instead, as the alien insect faltered and fell, she loosed a second arrow.
This time, the second arrow followed the wound left by the first, driving deep into the insect—finally piercing clean through.
“Little Gold, I’m heading over there. Can you handle things here?”
Little Gold was busy enjoying its all-you-can-eat buffet on top of the insect. Hearing Qin Sang’s words, it didn’t even turn around, only giving a vague “mm-hmm” in her mind.
Seeing that, Qin Sang left it alone and ran straight to where the alien insect had fallen.
Good news: the alien insect had been taken down.
Bad news: this thing had incredible vitality—even after two arrows, it was still clinging to life.
Such resilience in an insect was terrible news for humanity.
Qin Sang delivered the finishing blow and quickly sent this observation to Xu Lin as well. Just as she was about to head back and support Little Gold, she received a voice message from him.
“These alien bugs are highly corrosive. Don’t engage them in close combat. Also, the fissures above haven’t shown any sign of closing. The good news is, no more insects have emerged for now.”
That last sentence carried a note of uncertainty.
Qin Sang recalled what had happened when the black fissures first appeared—they’d only lasted a few minutes, dropped a bunch of black energy orbs, and then vanished.
This time, she’d already killed one alien insect, yet the fissures remained.
Which meant, on the other side of those cracks, there were undoubtedly countless more alien bugs lying in wait.
She looked down at the dead insect at her feet—its grotesque form, its bizarre manner of arrival. Her mind could only settle on one possibility: a Zerg invasion…
But wait—weren’t Zerg supposed to exist only in interstellar sci-fi settings?
Their world didn’t seem to have reached that level yet. Sure, they had manned spacecraft, but they were still eons away from true space exploration, let alone intergalactic communication.
And now, someone was telling her that this ordinary world had gone from an apocalypse scenario to a beast-tamer world. And before the beast-tamer world could even develop, a Zerg invasion had already begun.
Good grief! Qin Sang felt it was all happening too fast—this world was changing far too quickly.
Out of nowhere, a memory surfaced in her mind—the time Grandpa Goose had shouted after the Yellow Earth World appeared: “The world’s progression has gone completely haywire!”
Did that mean this world was ultimately destined to face a Zerg invasion? But because so many links in the chain had changed, the world’s trajectory had deviated entirely…
Just thinking about such complex matters gave Qin Sang a headache.
And the ones with even bigger headaches were the official authorities worldwide.
Just dealing with second-evolution mutant insects had already stretched them thin. Every time a disaster struck and humanity seemed to regain hope, a new catastrophe would emerge, forcing them to rise up and fight all over again—again and again, in a relentless, exhausting cycle.
And now, these newly arrived alien insects were even more overpowering.
In battle against them, long-range attacks were manageable, but close-quarters combat truly required swarm tactics.
—
By now, Qin Sang had dragged the alien insect’s corpse back to where she’d started. By the time she returned, Little Gold’s buffet session was over, leaving behind a pile of leftovers—half an insect carcass.
“Sang Sang, for you…”
Qin Sang looked at the energy core Little Gold was holding in its little paws. Well, this thing from the interstellar Zerg could probably also be called an energy core, right?
It was larger than the cores from second-evolution mutant insects and contained far more energy. But that energy was also far more violent—so volatile that humans might not be able to absorb it at all.
Noticing this, Qin Sang immediately sent another message to Xu Lin, then frowned as she examined the energy stone.
But she didn’t have time to study it further, because soon more insects arrived—except this time, they were mutant insects. And leading them were the interstellar Zerg.
This…
Qin Sang watched the massive swarm approaching in the distance and asked Little Gold directly: “Can you control mutant insects like that?”
Little Gold was taken aback by the question, then shook its head. “I’m not a stinky bug—I’m a fragrant bug.”
Well, that phrasing was a bit ambiguous.
Qin Sang pressed on: “So, can those alien bugs control you?”
That question was like poking a hornet’s nest. Little Gold, wingless as it was, leaped straight into the air—almost as if it had grown wings.
Qin Sang could feel the surging indignation radiating from it and realized she’d said the wrong thing. She quickly tried to make amends.
“Hey, I only said that because you’re so powerful! If you actually got controlled, I wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”
That successfully quelled Little Gold’s fury. Qin Sang continued: “If only there were more little ones as amazing as you…”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than her phone began to ring.
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