217: Chapter 217 Mo Yuan, unwilling to accept defeat, contacts the Zerg Queen for a full-scale attack.

Chen Wuwang walked into the inner hall without stopping.

He passed through the hanging curtains, his fingertips brushing against the stone wall, and the hidden compartment popped open, the interface of the family rise system floating quietly in the depths of his consciousness.

There were fifty-seven minutes left on the countdown.

He did not look at the System.

He simply sat on the stone chair, his right hand resting on the edge of the armrest, his thumb gently wiping across the blade of the dagger; the bloodstain had already dried, sticking to the grooves like a rust mark.

The square outside the mansion had long since quieted down, the wind blowing the bronze bells on the eaves, one sound, then another, slow and clear.

The clansmen had dispersed, and the blood would soon be washed away.

He knew that this strike had cut down more than just Old Zhao's life; it had cut down the wishful thinking of those hiding in the shadows.

But he also knew—this would not be the end.

The moment he closed his eyes to regulate his breathing, a sharp mental fluctuation pierced through space, like an icicle stabbing out from the deep underground, striking directly at the edge of his Sea of Consciousness.

It was not an attack.

It was some kind of... laughter.

Low, distorted, with echoes like metal rubbing against metal, as if someone were humming a nursery rhyme using rusty gears.

Mo Yuan.

"You killed a cowardly rat."

The voice sounded in a corner of his consciousness, devoid of anger, but instead carrying a sick sense of pleasure, "Did you think that would be enough to protect your Family? Your walls? Your dreams?"

Chen Wuwang opened his eyes.

The blue light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye flashed, automatically tracking the source of the mental fluctuation—the abandoned altar area in the North, three hundred zhang underground, with nine layers of energy shielding.

He did not respond.

He did not need to respond.

He knew what the other party wanted to say.

Sure enough, the voice continued to flow: "You cleaned out the internal traitor, very good. But do you know what this means? It means... no one can stand between you and me anymore."

"The lurking is over." Mo Yuan whispered, "It is time to change the rules of the game."

The scene changed abruptly.

It was not a real scene, but a memory image replayed through residual mental threads—the high platform in the square, Old Zhao kneeling on the ground, the dagger falling, blood splattering onto the black iron stele.

Mo Yuan "saw" everything.

He watched his most prized chess piece executed in public, watched Chen Wuwang's calm, blade-like gaze, watched the clansmen kneeling and kowtowing one by one.

In that instant, his will trembled.

It was not fear.

It was excitement.

"What a perfect order." He said softly, "What a solid belief. But precisely because of that... once it collapses, it will be all the more thorough."

He was silent for a moment, as if savoring the emotion intertwined with unwillingness and anger.

Then, he laughed.

"If you won't let me rot you from the inside, then I will crush you from the outside."

As the words fell, twelve Puppets formed a ring formation, the main consciousness detached from the current shell, tearing through the Void Realm along the frequency of Cthulhu's whispers, speeding through the invisible mental channel.

Ten thousand zhang beneath the Eastern Wasteland.

The Zerg nest core.

There was no light here, only throbbing.

A scarlet giant egg, as huge as a mountain, floated above the magma, its surface covered in wriggling tentacles, each one connected to a bug tunnel leading to the surface.

This was the location of the Zerg Broodmother's true body, and also the source of the entire race's consciousness.

Silence.

Until a distorted ripple tore through the nothingness.

"I am here." Mo Yuan's voice sounded, no longer a whisper, but directly branded into the consciousness of the Zerg Broodmother.

The Zerg Broodmother did not respond immediately.

Its thinking rose and fell like the tide, slow and heavy.

It remembered this person—that demon believer parasitic in machinery, who had once traded pollution for a brief cooperation.

It had also struggled in pain due to the reverse intrusion of psionic code, and still harbored an instinctive rejection of the word "technology."

"Why have you come?" The Zerg Broodmother finally spoke, the sound not a language, but a collective will formed by the neural resonance of billions of Zerg, low as thunder, "Was the price of the last time not enough?"

"Last time, you were too impatient." Mo Yuan said calmly, "You wanted to win by infiltration, but Chen Wuwang is harder to corrupt than we imagined. He does not need loyalty; he only needs efficiency. He uses Systems to kill, faster than a blade."

"It is different now." He said, "He just killed his own people. On the surface, it intimidates all sides, but in reality, his Origin Qi is severely damaged. Rebuilding the logistics System takes time, Medicinal Pill reserves are being audited, and the defense System will inevitably have gaps."

"More importantly—"

He paused: "He thinks he has won. When people are complacent, they are most likely to ignore the cracks beneath their feet."

The Zerg Broodmother remained silent.

But it sensed it.

Just now, it detected accelerated construction of underground works within the Chen Family territory, re-routing of psionic conduits, and the upgrading of signal bands for the defensive array.

The opponent was also preparing for war.

This was not weakness.

This was gathering strength.

"You say he is strong, I say he is crazy."

Mo Yuan continued, "He treats mechs like arms, carves runes into chips, and treats the Heavenly Dao like a program that can be compiled. He is challenging all old orders. And you and I are both part of this old world."

"If left to develop, the next one to be corrupted by code will be you."

The Zerg Broodmother's throbbing paused slightly.

"Are you afraid?" It asked.

"I am not afraid." Mo Yuan sneered, "But I know what a threat is. Chen Wuwang is not just a Head of the Chen Family; he is a 'variable'."

"A madman who can fuse technology and cultivation to the extreme."

"Today he can resist acid with a coating, tomorrow he can build a flying sword array, and the day after... perhaps he can really write a formula that reverses the Heavenly Dao."

"I do not want to lose to him." He said, "So I will destroy him. While he is still standing on the ground, instead of ascending to the hundredth floor."

The Zerg Broodmother finally moved.

The scarlet giant egg rotated slowly, countless tentacles retracted, and energy began to converge.

"You say he is weak at this moment." It asked, "Proof?"

"He just experienced internal strife." Mo Yuan answered, "The hearts of the people are not yet stable, resources are dispersed, and the attention of the upper echelon is focused on the Alchemy Workshop and permission reviews. Their eyes are fixed on the inside, unable to see the shadows crawling underground."

"And—" he added, "Have you ever wondered why he could discover the poisoning so quickly? Why the shadow System could automatically back up logs? Why even the tampering of ventilation ducts could be precisely located?"

"Because he relies on the System." Mo Yuan whispered, "He relies on it highly. Once the System is interfered with, his reaction speed will slow by half a beat. And I, happen to be good at creating chaos."

The consciousness of the Zerg Broodmother fluctuated.

It remembered that feeling—the pain of data torrents pouring backward into the neural network, code eroding the collective will like a virus.

It did not want to experience it again.

"You have convinced me." The Zerg Broodmother finally spoke, "Not because of your words, but because... I, too, have smelled the scent of opportunity."

The next instant.

A low, extreme roar exploded from the heart of the earth.

It was not a sound, but a will.

It pierced through rock layers, traversed earth veins, and reached deep into every bug den.

All Worker Insects stopped digging.

All Soldier Bugs retracted their sharp claws.

All locusts curled up their wing membranes.

Compound eyes turned in unison toward the direction of the nest core.

"Devour!" The will of the Zerg Broodmother spread out, like a storm sweeping across the wasteland, "Evolve! Destroy the obstructors!"

"The Chen Family... is blood food, and also a ladder for evolution!"

In an instant, the earth trembled slightly.

From abandoned mines, ground fissures, and dry wells all over the Eastern Wasteland, a black torrent began to surge.

Worker Insects with shells shimmering with a ghostly light crawled out first, followed by Soldier Bugs carrying bone spurs, locusts with wings spanning three feet, and even Earth-walking Scorpions lurking beneath the soil layer.

They no longer acted in scattered groups.

Instead, they merged into black streams, slowly advancing in one direction—the Chen Family Main Peak.

At the edge of the high-altitude clouds, several wind-eye bugs quietly ascended, their bodies transparent, almost merging with the ionosphere.

They unfolded their sensory membranes, began scanning terrain, heat sources, and energy nodes, transmitting data silently back to the underground.

The war machine had started.

Waiting only for the final order.

Mo Yuan withdrew his consciousness, his main eye slowly closing in the darkness.

He lay back on the cold altar stone platform, the ring formed by the twelve Puppets emitted a low hum, energy circulating endlessly.

"Go." He murmured, "Let this fire burn a little brighter."

Chen Wuwang was still sitting in the inner hall.

He did not know any of this.

He only knew that his right Mechanical Prosthetic Eye suddenly flashed.

It was not an alarm.

It was not a prompt.

It was just like... something, in a very distant place, had gently knocked on the door.

He raised his hand and touched the dagger.

The blood had dried completely.