Bloody Battlefield

But these ability users were at most B-rank. Even going all out, they simply couldn't sustain their output for long.

Mental energy worked just like physical stamina—once it was spent, it was spent.

After the third wave of attacks, the barrage of colorful abilities clearly began to weaken. A few B-ranks were already leaning against tree trunks, gasping for air.

Lin Mo climbed onto a branch, watching with great amusement. "B-ranks are done. Guess it's our turn next?"

Song Junhe grabbed Lin Mo by the collar and yanked him down from the tree. "B-ranks are done, then the pseudo-A-ranks move in. Still not your turn."

"Pseudo-A-rank? What's that supposed to be?"

Lin Mo obviously understood the concept perfectly. He was just playing dumb.

Song Junhe let go, his gaze drifting toward the figures gathering in the distance. "You're a natural awakener. Your growth has no ceiling. Pseudo-A-ranks are implanted ability users. Their ceiling is locked in. If their cap is A-rank, they can never surpass it, and they might even sink lower."

The drawback of artificial spirit roots.

The upside was they could be mass-produced. The downside was the success rate was terrifyingly low, the mortality rate was high, and it required an extreme degree of mental and physical synchronization.

The Yanks' own lab-developed serum had a higher success rate than this garbage, so they'd never adopted the technology.

But the Super Youth Corps had somehow managed to gather this many superhumans.

Lin Mo did some mental math. For every one standing on that field, how many had to die just to fill those ranks?

He didn't actually care, though.

He just watched quietly for a moment before speaking. "So once they're all dead, it's our turn, right?"

"They might not all die. When their mental energy runs dry, they'll just drop out on their own," Song Junhe said.

"But the Divine Eye Bureau won't necessarily let them off easy."

Just as the words left his mouth, a dull thud rang out from up ahead.

The barrage of multicolored attacks had lost its punch, but it had indeed torn cracks into the blue barrier.

There was always a limit.

William's mental energy was being drained at a rapid pace. Blood was already seeping from his nose.

He reached for his waist and pulled out a potion, about to down it, when Sam slapped his hand back down.

"Alright, scatter. Focus on self-preservation from here on out."

The moment Sam gave the order, the four of them split apart.

No hesitation. No unnecessary exchange of words.

That was the kind of synergy forged from over a hundred coordinated missions.

Eric stamped his foot on the ground and slithered through the wilderness along the surface like an eel diving into water, vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye.

William shrank his barrier down to just protecting three feet around himself. His mental energy drain dropped sharply. He wiped the blood from his nose, and his eyes lit up again.

"May the Father of Gods grant him speed!"

The short-haired woman, Ivy, pressed her hand against Sam. A golden light sank into his legs.

Sam only had a pair of stubby little legs.

But he was the type to plow through anyone in his path.

With that speed boost, his stumpy legs spun like fans and tore straight into the woods.

Watching from the tree, the corner of Lin Mo's mouth twitched. That sight was honestly a bit ridiculous.

Finally, Ivy buffed herself with all kinds of enhancements as well.

Up until now, they'd been on pure defense.

Now, the tables had turned.

As for the car, and the thing sitting in its trunk—no one bothered with that.

Screams started echoing through the trees.

A red laser shot out from the left side of the brush, punching through two tree trunks and piercing the chest of a B-rank.

The ground suddenly bulged. Three jagged earth spikes erupted from the soil, pinning a fleeing ability user in place.

Gunfire rang out too.

Not abilities. Actual guns.

William ran and fired at the same time. No speed boost, but the others' attacks did nothing to him—basically invincible mode in a video game.

These B-ranks were being slaughtered.

One-sided slaughter.

Lin Mo counted. In less than two minutes, over thirty of them had gone down.

"Four people cutting through a pack of B-ranks like slicing vegetables."

Lin Mo commented, "The Divine Eye Bureau folks are no joke."

Eastern Leaf leaned against the tree nearby and snorted coldly. "That's because the opposition is weak garbage."

And right at that moment, the pseudo-A-ranks made their move.

Their goal wasn't to kill. It was to intercept and stall.

The plan was attrition—drain the four Divine Eye Bureau agents of stamina and ability, then let the real heavy hitters come in for the harvest.

A power-type pseudo-A-rank slammed down from above, punching the ground right in front of Sam. Rock shards flew everywhere.

Sam was forced back three paces, his stubby legs carving two grooves in the dirt.

Another pseudo-A-rank let out a wide-area ice fog, trying to restrict Eric's mobility.

Over a dozen pseudo-A-ranks struck at once, and the situation suddenly reached a stalemate.

But in Lin Mo's spiritual perception, those S-rank and A-rank superhumans still hadn't moved a muscle.

Still waiting.

Those guys were the purest bunch of rats, holding out just to steal the final kill.

Lin Mo wasn't in a hurry either. His clone had already grabbed the intel it needed from Super Youth Corps headquarters. Everything from here on was just going through the motions.

If that clone got thrown away while pretending to fight, so be it.

With more than a dozen pseudo-A-ranks in play, they could barely hold their own against those four Divine Eye agents.

But barely was the key word.

Sam shattered a pseudo-A-rank's shield with a laser blast, and right after, Eric erupted from underground, driving an earth spike straight through the target's calf.

William, wrapped in his full-body barrier, charged straight across the battlefield. Anything that couldn't stop bullets, he put down with a single shot.

In under a minute, six pseudo-A-ranks had fallen.

Pseudo-A-ranks still cost resources to train.

The commander on the Super Youth Corps' side was clearly feeling the sting. Harsh breathing crackled over the radio.

"Enough. All units, advance!"

The radio on Lin Mo's side buzzed too, and an unfamiliar voice came through.

"Lin Mo of the Yanhuang Awakened. Remember our deal. It's time for you to move."

Lin Mo pressed the transmit button, his tone lazy. "Fine. But I'm not taking a frontline fight."

He set down the radio and stretched. "Alright, time to pretend to work. This is only halftime anyway."

Eastern Leaf sneered. "Everyone wants to play the mantis from behind."

"Doesn't matter. Even if they all die, it's no skin off my back. They're just pawns."

Lin Mo dropped from the tree, landing so softly he made no sound at all.

He walked toward the center of the battlefield, unhurried, like he was going for a stroll instead of into a fight.

On the other side, his clone walked off with Song Junhe.

Song Junhe took a deep breath. "With all these people dying, it's a big boost to your abilities, isn't it?"

"Maybe. We'll find a chance when it comes."

Song Junhe didn't say anything more. The two of them disappeared into the woods, one behind the other.

There were only four enemies.

But the whole hill had turned into a meat grinder.

Ripples of ability collisions were everywhere. Bodies littered the ground. Wounded fighters were still crawling everywhere.

And the true main force still hadn't entered the fight at all.

This show hadn't even really started yet.