“Sang Sang, come back quick—something’s happened in the village!”
Her mother’s voice on the phone was urgent, and in the background, the sounds of battle were relentless. Qin Sang knew things had gone south.
But looking up at the approaching insect horde, she knew that if she turned back now, the swarm would follow right behind her—and that would only make things more dangerous for the village.
“Mom, I can’t leave right now. Report the situation to the management bureau immediately. Tell Brother Fa to get everyone to take cover—don’t engage head-on. I’ll get back as soon as I can…”
Without waiting for a reply, Qin Sang hung up, tucked the phone back in her pocket, and rolled her arms and legs to loosen up. Watching the insect army charging toward her, she declared, “Let’s go—Little Gold, Little Tabby, Little Grass Seed—hunting time with me…”
Little Tabby, who had just been suddenly released from the space, was a bit dazed at first. But the word “hunting” made its eyes light up. Staring at the oncoming insects, it licked its paw, its sharp claws glinting with a cold, deadly sheen.
Little Grass Seed, as always, had a voracious appetite. Ignoring the charging insects entirely, it lunged straight for the remains of Little Gold’s leftovers.
As for Little Gold, looking at such a massive herd of walking food, its eyes gleamed—brighter and more intense than its own golden body.
“Go—”
And so, another battle began.
Compared to Qin Sang’s relatively smooth fight, other places were suffering heavy casualties.
Again, the gap in individual combat power was simply too vast.
Humanity had only awakened spatial abilities and begun cultivating energy for too short a time. Meanwhile, the insects’ evolution had been staggering. Not to mention how powerful the second-evolution native insects had become—the bugs emerging from the fissures were simply overwhelming in their individual strength.
So in the first wave of battle, humanity barely managed a pyrrhic victory.
And before they could even catch their breath, the alien insects launched a second assault—this time, bringing the native mutant insects along to attack humans en masse.
The battle raged. Gunfire, battle cries, and screams filled the air everywhere.
Severed limbs, collapsing buildings, splattering insect corpses—scenes of carnage too gruesome to behold.
Qin Sang was far from those main battlefields and wasn’t yet aware of the full extent of the devastation. But even she, fighting alone with her three little companions against an entire swarm, was starting to feel the strain.
The main problem was the sheer number of second-evolution mutant insects—they seemed endless. These insects had already been driven out of the five major safety zones, yet now they were appearing from who knows where, an unending tide.
As she fought, Qin Sang couldn’t help but mutter about the insects’ tenacity.
“Little Gold, do you have any siblings?”
Little Gold, busy chomping away, paused at its contractor’s question, then replied: “Probably?”
Qin Sang realized how silly the question was. When she’d first found Little Gold, it had still been an egg—a lone one at that, with no others around, let alone parents.
Still, thinking back to her experience in the Yellow Earth Secret Realm, a thought crossed her mind: if the insects from that world descended upon Blue Star, could they help fight against the interstellar Zerg?
After all, even Little Gold found these bugs repulsive. And Little Gold came from the Yellow Earth Secret Realm—by extension, it stood to reason that the insects from that realm also despised the interstellar Zerg and the native mutant insects under their control.
The thought flickered through her mind and was gone. Qin Sang wasn’t about to entertain such fantasies.
But Little Gold, being incredibly perceptive, immediately picked up on her thoughts through their contract.
It leaped back from the alien insect carcass. Qin Sang dodged instinctively—not out of a lack of affection, but because the little creature’s limbs were covered in the black blood of the interstellar Zerg, which looked highly toxic. She had no desire to be poisoned.
“Sang Sang…”
Little Gold paced irritably in circles. Qin Sang smiled sheepishly and asked, “What’s up, Little Gold?”
Little Gold: “Do you want the insects from the Yellow Earth Secret Realm to come out?”
Qin Sang’s eyes widened. “Can… can that actually happen?”
Little Gold waved a tiny limb: “It’s possible. But I can’t promise they’ll help fight these stinky bugs…”
Qin Sang: “Little Gold, what kind of insect race are you, really…”
Little Gold scratched its head: “Grandpa Goose said I can’t tell…”
The moment those words were out, Grandpa Goose in the space could no longer hold back and popped out.
“You little ant, you’re quite the trickster. I never said you couldn’t say anything.”
Qin Sang glanced at the insect army being thoroughly routed by Little Tabby in the distance and decided to take a moment to get some answers.
Grandpa Goose looked a bit sheepish but quickly regained his composure: “The reason I didn’t let you know about the beast-taming contract earlier was because I didn’t want to accelerate the world’s progression.”
Qin Sang: “How could just one person knowing a little bit of information change the course of the whole world?”
Grandpa Goose sighed: “When the Yellow Earth Secret Realm appeared, the barrier enveloping Blue Star began to weaken. And then when this little ant willingly signed a beast-taming contract with you, that further accelerated the barrier’s deterioration…”
Hearing this, Qin Sang looked up at the countless black fissures sprawling across the sky and suddenly understood: “Those black fissures—they’re the result of the barrier weakening? And on the other side of that barrier lies the universe where the Zerg exist?”
Grandpa Goose nodded.
“There’s no use talking about it now. Blue Star has been completely exposed. The black energy masses that appeared earlier were energy leaks from the Zerg dimension—proof that the connection between the two universes has already begun. These insects you see now? They’re just the lowest, most useless bottom-tier Zerg—nothing more than a scouting vanguard…”
There was no need for him to say more. Qin Sang already understood.
Their planet had always faced the threat of a Zerg invasion. The barrier had protected them before, but now it was weakening—and humanity’s strength had yet to reach a level that could rival the Zerg.
This was the root cause behind all their problems.
Qin Sang briefly entertained the thought—couldn’t they just repair the barrier? But she didn’t voice it. Clearly, if it were that simple, none of the subsequent disasters would have happened. Even before this, Grandpa Goose had said that Blue Star’s consciousness had simulated countless possibilities before arriving at the optimal path forward—which meant that in all those previous simulations, humanity must have been doomed.
Thinking of this, Qin Sang looked up at the black fissures overhead, her expression growing even more somber.
Humanity’s struggle was just too hard.
This matter touched upon the very truth of their world, and in the future, far more powerful interstellar Zerg would descend. So Qin Sang had already decided to share some of this information with others.
But first, she needed to wipe out this current wave of vanguard scouts.
Before taking action, though, she circled back to the earlier topic.
“How do we get the insects from the Yellow Earth Secret Realm to come out?”
Grandpa Goose spread his wings: “You’ll have to ask the little ant about that—it’s from that place, so it should know.”
Little Gold felt Grandpa Goose was being terribly unreliable—passing every problem off onto it just because it was still small.
Still just a baby, Little Gold grumbled indignantly in Qin Sang’s mind for a good while.
“No time to waste—let’s start now.”
With that, Qin Sang went over and finished off the remaining insects, calling Little Tabby back. Then, with her three little companions, she dug out all the energy cores from the insect corpses.
“Is this enough?” Qin Sang gathered all the cores together and asked Little Gold.
Little Gold sensed them for a moment: “Not enough!”
“Alright!”
From there, Qin Sang and her trio continued their unstoppable rampage. They pushed forward relentlessly, taking down every insect they encountered—whether interstellar Zerg or native mutants. The corpses were left for Little Grass Seed to devour, while the energy cores were collected.
This wild, aggressive fighting style quickly drew the attention of other combatants.
Someone came over to suggest Qin Sang join forces with them, warning that fighting alone was too dangerous. Qin Sang thanked them but prepared to continue leading her own charge.
However, she soon spotted a familiar face among the crowd.
“Captain Lin!”
Upon seeing this acquaintance, an idea struck her.
She wasn’t the type to hesitate. If this could accelerate things and possibly reduce casualties, then so be it. Just moments ago, when she’d encountered other fighters, she’d learned just how brutal their battles against the interstellar Zerg had been.
“Captain Lin, I need a large batch of energy cores.”
Captain Lin: “What for?”
Qin Sang’s expression was resolute: “I can’t go into specifics. But if it works, the tide of battle will turn immediately.”
Her words made Captain Lin freeze. His team members looked utterly incredulous. If they hadn’t known Qin Sang—and known just how formidable she was—they’d have thought she’d lost her mind. They’d been fighting tooth and nail, losing so many people, and now someone was asking them for energy cores—such crucial spoils of war.
“Come on, I’ll take you to headquarters.”
Qin Sang was glad Captain Lin was so decisive. She followed him with her three companions to the command post—but when they arrived, it was already deserted. Everyone had gone to the front lines to fight, including Captain Lin’s superior, who was commanding operations elsewhere.
“Call Director Qian now. If he agrees, I’ll cooperate fully.”
Qin Sang didn’t waste time—she took the phone and made the call.
Director Qian was an old fox she’d dealt with a few times before, but his stance was solid—he was a good comrade.
The call connected. Qin Sang repeated her request. And Director Qian, as expected, didn’t ask too many questions. He simply issued the order to Captain Lin.
—
“Can it really turn the tide that dramatically?” Those who’d heard Qin Sang earlier kept wondering as they watched her movements.
By now, Qin Sang had led Captain Lin to an open area about a kilometer from the front lines—a stretch of bare earth that had once been grassland. Now not even grass roots remained. The area had been cleared, ensuring no insects would disturb them.
“I’ll draw the formation first. You keep watch and protect the perimeter.”
With that, Qin Sang recalled the formation diagram Little Gold had transmitted into her mind and began drawing it on the ground.
Before long, an enormous formation over five meters in diameter gradually took shape under her efforts.
By the time it was complete, Captain Lin’s expression was beyond shocked. He had no idea what Qin Sang was about to do, but looking at the intricate, magnificent formation, he suddenly felt a surge of confidence.
And Qin Sang didn’t let him down.
“Captain Lin—the energy cores…”
Snapping back to attention, Captain Lin retrieved all the energy cores they’d accumulated over this period from his spatial realm.
Qin Sang took them, placed them at various designated positions, and then channeled all her energy to guide the power from the cores into the formation.
The next moment, the formation erupted in a brilliant golden light.
The very air seemed to stop flowing. Everyone—human and insect alike—felt an immense pressure bearing down on them.
As for Qin Sang, she had already pulled Captain Lin to a safe spot the moment the formation activated.
Before he could ask anything, a massive, ancient, and strangely familiar stone gate materialized in midair above the formation.
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