Chapter 380: The Cage

The mucus was only enough to trap it for a very brief moment.

But even that brief pause was enough for the squad leader to break free from the crater in the wall.

He stumbled back a few steps, putting distance between himself and the Anomaly once more.

His gaze swept over the hazy figures of his teammates in the mist, then settled back on the brutal Anomaly as it tore free of the mucus.

It had already snapped all the tendrils. The oil paint on its bony eyeball quivered violently, as though furiously searching for its attacker’s location.

The squad leader wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes sharpened.

His carapace-covered feet slammed against the ground once more.

………………

Within the mist, the squad leader evaded the Anomaly’s claws yet again.

The strike grazed past his shoulder armor, shearing away a large chunk of hardened keratin. Fragments scattered through the air.

A faint pain radiated from his shoulder, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on it.

He used the momentum to retreat.

His leg blades carved two scorch marks across the ground as he slipped into the depths of the corridor like a ghost.

The Anomaly roared and gave chase.

These irritating prey had ignited its fury.

Time and again, they slipped from its claws, only to strike from the mist—like mosquitoes buzzing in its ears, impossible to swat.

On its bony body, both heads opened their jaws simultaneously, loosing a piercing shriek.

Its primal viciousness was fully ignited.

It lunged at the squad leader with wild fury, each step cracking the floor.

Shattered brick and plaster crumbled beneath its bone claws.

But this time, the squad leader did not look back.

He simply ran toward that direction with everything he had.

Closer…

Just a little closer…

He could hear the heavy bone feet crushing the ground behind him, drawing nearer and nearer.

He could feel the suffocating presence behind him, thickening by the second.

But he did not look back.

He charged through a gap in a broken wall, debris scraping past his shoulders, leaving fresh gashes on his carapace.

He burst into a hall largely free of black fur.

This was the place.

The squad leader came to an abrupt halt, whirling around.

He did not retreat any farther.

Because he had brought the Anomaly to—that spot.

The next moment, chaos erupted.

Without any warning.

Beneath the feet of the Anomaly lunging at the squad leader, the concrete floor suddenly exploded.

Several bone-white ribs burst from the earth like feral fangs surging from below, impaling upward into the space between the Anomaly’s abdomen and hind legs.

At the same moment, the walls on both sides shattered.

More ribs extended from deep within the walls, bending and closing, converging from all directions like a giant hand.

The assistant squad leader’s figure was shrouded deep in the mist.

Both his arms were buried deep into the walls, blood streaming down his sides, leaving dark crimson trails across the gray-white surface.

His chest heaved violently. Each breath came with the sound of bones breaking and reassembling.

The sound emanated from inside his body—dull and teeth-grinding.

This was his ability: to mutate and extend his own ribs, weaving them into a cage.

The price was that nearly all his ribs had been forcibly torn from his body.

His chest cavity now relied on only a thin layer of flesh and blood to maintain its basic structure.

Every breath felt like sandpaper scraping against his lungs.

But he could no longer afford to care.

The bone cage snapped shut with astonishing speed.

One rib after another interwove, weaving an impenetrable prison that trapped the Anomaly at its center.

The Anomaly tried to break free, its hind legs shattering several ribs that had pierced its joints.

Fragments flew.

But more ribs surged from all directions, pressing down in layers.

Mucus sprayed through the gaps, coating the skeletal joints and sealing the breaks back together.

Even Jack’s piercing shrieks erupted in full force at that moment, exploding from all directions simultaneously, continuously disrupting the Anomaly’s senses.

Within seconds, the Anomaly’s struggles finally weakened.

Not because it had stopped resisting, but because it had been temporarily trapped inside.

The cage of ribs and mucus had compressed its movements to the bare minimum.

And then came—fire.

A blazing tongue of fire, at this critical moment, erupted from the mist at the side.

Betty gritted her teeth. Her cheeks were puffed, her whole body trembling, her pupils reflecting the churning orange-red.

With everything she had, she turned every ounce of air in her lungs into flame and poured it into the rib cage.

It carried an abnormal hue, its temperature terrifyingly high.

But the fire’s purpose was never merely burning.

This was only the primer.

The true killing blow lay inside the cage.

That crimson-red Wizardry Crystal.

In the instant before the rib cage closed, the squad leader had shoved the crystal into the side of the Anomaly’s spine—into the crack that bullets and blades had repeatedly torn open.

Now, as the fire flooded in, the temperature within the cage soared.

The heat reached the crystal.

The red substance inside the crystal began to churn violently, more ferociously than ever before.

The next second, a crisp cracking sound rang out within the encirclement of ribs.

A bullet, at precisely the right moment, struck the crimson crystal.

Rank-3 Wizardry—Conflagrant Breath—was fully triggered in that instant.

The wizardry power, which should have dispersed in all directions, was now completely contained within the narrow space formed by the ribs.

The flames, with nowhere to escape, could only pour all their fury onto everything within the cage.

Thus, the rib cage became a true furnace of flame.

Torrents of wizardry fire erupted within the white-bone furnace, dyeing the entire cage crimson red.

The surface of the ribs began to crack, emitting sharp popping sounds, but still they held fast, refusing to let go.

Except for Betty, who was straining to maintain the flames with everything she had, everyone held their breath.

Time seemed to stretch.

Every second felt like a year.

Flames raged within the cage.

Light interweaving orange-red and crimson-gold filtered through the gaps between the bones, staining the surrounding mist blood-red.

That light flickered across each person’s face, wavering and unsteady.

The squad leader leaned against the wall, gasping for air, his gaze locked on the cage.

His body was beginning to revert from its excessive mutation.

Large bruises and lacerations spread across his skin.

Chunks of his carapace were peeling off, revealing bruised and bloodied flesh beneath.

The assistant squad leader knelt on the ground, blood still seeping from the broken ends of his ribs.

His breathing was shallow and rapid.

Each inhale produced that teeth-grinding sound from his chest—his ribcage, no longer supported by bones, barely maintaining its most basic form.

The mucus had long since evaporated in the intense heat, but it was no longer needed.

Fire itself was the best cage.

Minutes.

For everyone present, they were excruciatingly long.

Each second pressed down like a heavy stone, weighing on all their hearts.