A tense atmosphere was brewing among the survivors. They exchanged glances filled with anger and resentment.

Martin Stewart said nothing, coldly urging the group to keep moving.

At the front, ten male survivors wielded axes and large blades to clear the path, rotating every 15 minutes. The task was physically exhausting and extremely dangerous.

The dense forest and undergrowth hid various mutated animals. When startled, they readily attacked the path-clearers.

In the current world, few animals were easy to deal with: Fist-sized ants, rodents weighing dozens of pounds, gigantic mantises, stinging flies, and serpents as thick as barrels.

Fortunately, mosquitoes had become increasingly rare. Perhaps their mutation rate was low, or their natural predators were highly effective—otherwise, life would be unbearable.

As the long procession wound through the forest, occasional screams pierced the air. Some screams came from those bitten by rats, stung by venomous caterpillars, or cut by mutated plants.

A few military medics were kept busy, documenting injuries, noting attacker types, assessing wounds, and observing outcomes.

Injured ability users or soldiers received treatment, while survivors had to fend for themselves.

Elsewhere in the base, James Lone stood before a bound and terrified ability user, holding a dagger. The man trembled, pleading through tears: "Please, brother, spare me! I'll tell you everything I know!"

James spoke coolly, "Tell me about your plan to capture me."

"I know nothing, I swear! I'm a nobody—worthless. No one tells me anything..."

James chuckled.

Slash! In a flash, a finger dropped to the ground.

"Ah! I'll talk! I'll talk! Brigadier General Martin Stewart is leading the operation, and Brigadier General Rock Campbell is involved too! Over 50 ability users, 200 soldiers, and 1,000 civilians to transport supplies!"

"What else?"

"That's all I know, I swear! Please spare me! Wait! Right, I remember now! They think you're at the New York Pearl Tower and are worried you'll escape, so they're heading there! They must be taking a straight path! That's everything I know, really!"

Thud. The man fell lifelessly to the ground, eyes wide open in death.

James phased into the floor and began following Martin Stewart's path.

Tailsa Evans knelt beside a recently deceased female survivor. The woman had been bitten by a red venomous ant, her wound resembling a horrific burn.

She had writhed and screamed for two hours without treatment, before succumbing as the wound festered.

Martin Stewart approached. "She's dead? How long did she last?"

Tailsa grimaced as she replied, "Two hours and fifteen minutes."

Martin glanced at her notes, nodding in satisfaction. "Don't forget to compile and organize the data later."

The injuries these survivors endured could inform future expeditions. Details like injury progression and outcomes without treatment were valuable information.

Tailsa Evans couldn't contain her question: "General Stewart, why not let me treat her?"

The other medics glanced at her silently, absorbed in their work.

Martin looked at the young woman, initially wanting to berate her. But considering her unique abilities, he held back: "Could you have cured her?"

Tailsa hesitated.

The two-hour fatal venom was beyond her skills.

"Even if I couldn't cure her, I could have given her a painkiller!"

"A painkiller? For someone destined to die? What's the point?" Martin laughed scornfully, then said coldly: "Tailsa Evans, don't waste time on what's meaningless. Resources are limited; we must allocate them wisely to more valuable, rewarding tasks. This applies to your stamina, as well as to painkillers. Her death provided us with critical data about the red ant venom. The base will not forget her contribution. Leave it at that; don't ponder unnecessarily."

Turning away, Martin left.

Tailsa bit her lip, silently absorbing the irony.

The base will not forget her contribution?

Was such a fleeting remark really all that sent a life away?

She brooded grimly: If I were gravely injured, would they observe coldly, documenting everything but refusing aid, leaving me to die in despair too?

James Lone maintained his phased state as he sprinted through the forest in a direct line.

The mutated creatures he passed launched attacks in vain, their aggressions coming up empty.

Their confused little brains couldn't grasp what had happened.

In moments, James was out of their sight.

What was perilous terrain for the average person and most ability users was a mere walk in the park for him.

He sprinted ahead, extending his perception to ensure no overly powerful mutations lurked nearby.

The forest shimmered with glaring red light within his senses. Predatory plants and animals abounded everywhere.

Running this path reinforced James's understanding of the world's extreme transformation.

The life visible today was almost entirely mutated. Ordinary flora and fauna had almost entirely perished in fierce survival competitions.

What's more, some plants had developed sensory and movement capabilities, actively attacking James.

The pace of global evolution was breathtaking. Who knew how it would all end?

James remembered the hordes of tentacle monsters landing behind him—relentlessly slaughtering and adapting to terrestrial life.

Those monstrosities were just the first wave; countless more aquatic creatures lurked in the depths, evolving in unseen ways.

Recalling the terrifying sea serpent that towered skyward, a sense of oppressive uncertainty loomed within him.

Suddenly, a familiar figure entered his perception's range.

It was the Bat Man!

Suspended upside down from a branch as a bat, another short ability user squatted near him, deep in conversation.

James paused.

Two people?

Silently, he drew a handgun.

Gravitational Distortion!

Quietly, he floated upwards, cloaked by the mist, drifting toward them with his gun aimed at the shorter one.

At about 15 meters away, the short entity suddenly looked James's way, as if sensing something.

Without a word, James fired.

Bang!

The shot took his target straight through the forehead, eyes wide as they fell from the tree.

A silver orb, visible only to James, rose from the corpse, merging into his willpower weapon.

The Bat Man froze momentarily, then reacted with fear, shouting: "The rat is here! The rat is here!"

Flapping his wings, he attempted to flee. But it was too late.

James was irked. "Calling me a rat?"

With a powerful push off a nearby trunk, his near-weightless form rapidly closed in on the Bat Man.

All the while, his core's power surged, enabling ghostly agility.

In the blink of an eye, James spanned the distance and materialized before the Bat Man!

Caught by surprise, the Bat Man collided with him.

"Die!"

James unleashed a devastating punch.