205: Chapter 205 The Puppet's Stubborn Resistance, Unwarranted Cold Words Provoke the Enemy

The rock layers of Collapse Valley were still smoking.

Gravel tumbled down from the edge of the cliff, hitting the broken Puppet bodies with a dull echo.

Chen Wuwang stood before the observation port. The blue light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye had not faded. Within his field of vision, the life readings of two Puppets were still pulsing—weak, yet persistent.

The chains creaked under the tension, and the interference pulses continued to output, yet those two pairs of crimson eye-lights actually began to glow slowly once more.

"Heh." He let out a low chuckle, his fingers resting on the edge of the tactical tablet, his knuckles turning slightly white. "Trying to take a bite even at death's door? Fine then."

Just as he finished speaking, the right arm of the High-frequency Vibrating Blade-type Puppet suddenly trembled. The blade cut at a high frequency, and fine cracks appeared on the surface of the chains.

A harsh noise of interlocking gears came from within the chest of the Propulsion Wing-type Puppet. The folding wings on its back shook violently, and the fluctuations of energy backflow exploded into a burst of red light on the scanning map of the Mechanical Prosthetic Eye.

They didn't intend to surrender, nor did they even want to escape.

It was a counterattack.

"Self-destruct mode activated." Chen Wuwang narrowed his eyes, his fingertips tapping rapidly on the tablet. "The core power supply lines are reverse-loading, preparing to blow through the joint structures—naive."

He did not order concentrated fire, nor did he mobilize the Shadow Guards.

Instead, he pressed a hidden command key.

Buzz—

A low-frequency vibration came from beneath the ground. The array of three hundred and twenty-seven micro-Psionic Bombs had not been fully exhausted; the second wave of nodes buried beneath the Puppets' feet quietly activated.

Boom! Boom!

Two short, precise explosions rose from underground. The impact wasn't strong, but it went straight for the vitals—

The right arm joint of the vibrating blade-type Puppet was hit by a directional blast; the entire arm was blown off at the root, sending metal fragments flying in all directions.

The lumbar spine area of the Propulsion Wing-type Puppet shattered. Its supporting structure collapsed instantly, and its body pitched forward, one knee slamming heavily into the scorched earth.

"Joints broken, the power chain is interrupted," Chen Wuwang said in a low voice. "Now you can't even stand steadily, so why put on this show of a death struggle?"

But those two wrecked bodies were still moving.

The vibrating blade-type Puppet's remaining left arm suddenly stabbed into the ground, using the leverage to drag itself toward the depths of Collapse Valley.

A string of electrical sparks burst from the chest of the Propulsion Wing-type Puppet. Its eye-lights flashed frantically; though its wings couldn't unfold, they began to vibrate at high frequency, as if accumulating one last burst of energy.

"Trying to run?" Chen Wuwang sneered. "The signal source hasn't been cut off yet. Where could you possibly go?"

He brought up the energy amplifier interface from deep within the bunker, his finger sliding across a string of code to input the 'Psionic Overload Protocol.'

This wasn't an attack program; it was a trap.

As early as three days ago, when these Puppets approached the mining area, he had implanted a weak electrical current into their bodies via the underground monitoring array.

That current was like a parasite, silently seeping into the power supply lines. Now, he only needed to trigger a reverse detonation to make them burn themselves up.

"Come on," he said softly. "Let me see what kind of bullshit obsession Mo Yuan stuffed into you."

Code executed.

Buzz—!

The amplifier activated, and the current was injected in reverse.

Dazzling electrical sparks burst one after another inside the chests of the two Puppets. Their metal casings emitted a grinding sound similar to a human groan of pain. Their eye-lights flashed frantically and their limbs convulsed violently, as if an invisible hand were tightly clutching their hearts and squeezing them over and over.

The vibrating blade-type Puppet's crawling came to an abrupt halt, its left arm stabbing deep into the soil, unable to move anymore.

The vibrating wings of the Propulsion Wing-type Puppet stopped suddenly. Its eye-lights turned from crimson to gray-white, then suddenly flared up again, as if its last breath was being forcibly held on to.

They weren't dead.

But they looked worse than dead.

Chen Wuwang stared at the screen, the corners of his mouth slowly curling up.

Just then—

A Spiritual Whisper, without any warning, pierced through the spatial barriers and reached his Sea of Consciousness.

"Chen Wuwang, I want you dead!"

The voice was cold and gloomy, carrying the distorted rhythm unique to Cthulhu believers, as if thousands of insects were crawling inside his skull.

The blue light of his right Mechanical Prosthetic Eye surged, automatically recording and analyzing the frequency and source direction of this whisper.

A line of data appeared on the System interface: "Signal source location locked: North-Northwest 78°, distance approximately 3,200 li, suspected multi-refraction transmission."

He didn't move.

He only slowly raised his left hand, his fingertips gently brushing over the three Zerg claw scars on his right cheek.

Those scars had long since healed, but the sensation was still clear, like a brand, and also like a reminder.

"You say you want me dead?" he spoke in a low voice, his tone terrifyingly calm. "But your Puppets haven't even touched my shadow."

He did not respond with words.

Instead, he used his consciousness to 'cast' a segment of reverse information toward the signal's origin—it was footage recorded during the previous battle: a drill piercing a chest, chains wrapping around limbs, a Psionic Bomb blowing off an arm...

The images were edited rapidly, finally freezing at the moment the vibrating blade-type Puppet's eye-lights went out.

Superimposed was a cold sentence: "Your Puppets are worse than trash."

Information sent.

Almost at the same instant—

A Soul vibration like a muffled groan came from afar, followed by the sound of violent coughing up of blood, intermittent, as if coming from deep underground.

Mo Yuan was injured.

The spiritual link had backfired; emotions lost control, and the consciousness was shaken.

The corners of Chen Wuwang's mouth slowly curled up, revealing a smile that was almost pathological.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly, as if speaking to the air. "This is only the beginning."

He withdrew his hand, placing it back on the tactical tablet, his gaze returning to the battlefield.

The two Puppets were now completely paralyzed. Their eye-lights flickered dimly, and their metal casings were emitting green smoke, looking like two piles of scrap metal about to be decommissioned.

But he knew they were still useful.

Not as weapons, but as clues.

Who sent them?

Who was controlling them from behind the scenes?

And who dared to lay hands on the Eastern Wasteland under the banner of Cthulhu?

The answers to these questions were hidden within their broken husks.

He didn't move.

He remained standing before the observation port, his figure like cast iron.

The crystal membrane of the underground bunker reflected his cold, stern profile. The blue light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye remained unextinguished, and the scanning continued.

The Shadow Guard team stood by in silence. The fire net had not been withdrawn, and the interference pulses continued to output.

The entire Collapse Valley fell into an eerie silence.

There was only the smoke from the wreckage, the sizzling of electrical currents, and the whistling of the wind passing through the cliffs.

Chen Wuwang stared at those two Puppets, his eyes like he was looking at two coffins.

He knew Mo Yuan would not let this go.

That cry of "I want you dead" was not a threat; it was a vow.

But he also knew—

A true hunter is never in a hurry to strike.

He would wait.

Wait for the opponent to reach out again.

Wait for the opponent to personally deliver their neck to the blade.

"Come on," he said in a low voice, his tone so light it was like he was talking to himself. "I'm waiting."

His fingers unconsciously tapped the edge of the tactical tablet, once, and then again.

The rhythm was steady, calmly unlike a human's.

In the distance, the wind kicked up scorched earth, sweeping over the broken Puppet bodies.

Deep within a crack in the chest of one of them, a dark red rune flashed and disappeared.

Chen Wuwang's Mechanical Prosthetic Eye caught it.

He didn't show any emotion.

He simply marked that segment of imagery as "High Priority" and stored it in the encrypted database.

Then, he continued to wait.

Wait for the next wave of attacks.

Wait for the next opening.

Wait for the moment the truth surfaced.

His figure still stood before the observation port, his right hand resting on the tablet, the blue light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye unextinguished, the scanning unstopped.

The wreckage smoked, the wind whistled, and the battlefield was deathly silent.

He was like a night-watching god, coldly watching all the madness.