Reincarnated In a Cthulhu World And Everyone Is Obsessed With Me - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Monsters – He briefly brushed the Guide’s long hair with his mental power…

Both Sheikh and Yin Chengfeng accepted the mission.

As they sprinted out of the Sentry Tower, Yin Chengfeng said, “Leader, perhaps we should let Ruan Congyun handle this instead.”

Since the start of the Great Migration, emergency missions like this occurred several times a day. Purging monsters was a tedious and messy affair, but usually, it was a matter of sheer numbers rather than difficulty—hardly requiring Sheikh’s personal intervention.

Sheikh leaped into a single-person flight skiff hovering in mid-air—the fastest way to reach the front lines. Recalling how the Guide had been covered in wounds earlier, Sheikh hooked one hand onto the skiff’s handle and looked back. “Let him continue reflecting in the white noise room.”

The pilot, recognizing the Sentinel as Sheikh, was so startled that the skiff lagged in the air for a second. Sheikh lowered his gaze; those cold, pale cyan-gold eyes showed no emotional fluctuation, yet they exerted an immense, effortless pressure.

“Go,” Sheikh commanded flatly. The pilot snapped out of it and hurriedly accelerated toward the perimeter.

The Southern First Base was a three-dimensional, enclosed semicircle built of steel and concrete, its exterior covered by a Guide’s mental barrier that protected the base with seamless precision. Now, the sky was filled with countless openings for flight skiffs. Outside those shimmering, translucent portals, distorted monsters roared with hunger. Their viscous fluids and blood were highly corrosive; the air was filled with human screams and the sight of severed limbs.

As they crossed the barrier, the pilot stole a cautious glance at Sheikh. He had only ever seen Sheikh on the Star-Net; in the high-definition photos, those unique eyes were unforgettable. If the situation weren’t so dire, he might have been bold enough to ask for an autograph.

Sheikh surveyed the area outside the portals with indifference. There was no surge of emotion, not even a trace of killing intent. Most Sentinels the pilot had transported wore heavy protective gear, but Sheikh wore only a thin combat uniform, completely exposing himself to the mental pollution outside the base—using his own body as an indestructible wall.

Sheikh had spent far more time killing in the apocalypse than resting in the base. This S-class Domain Reaper possessed both a reassuring strength and a low-profile gravity, like a heavy sword without a sharp edge.

The city walls were swarming with writhing monsters—ugly, irregular growths that pushed the limits of human visual endurance. Every glance was a high dose of mental pollution. Creatures with swaying tentacles clung to the barrier like octopuses, their multiple mouths dripping highly polluted secretions. The barrier flickered, dissolving and reforming under the assault.

Nearby Sentinels fought desperately. One wrong move and they would be swallowed whole by a suddenly expanding maw. Since the Great Migration, the monsters’ mutation speed had become terrifying.

Then, Sheikh arrived.

As he stepped out of the skiff, every fighting Sentinel and Guide received a broadcast:

“S-class Sentinel, Sheikh, has joined the battlefield. Purge initiated. Southern First Base awaits your triumphant return.”

Morale skyrocketed. The nameless roars of the monsters were momentarily drowned out by the cheers of the humans. Between the chaotic energy and the swirling, ominous clouds, Sheikh walked through the air as if on solid ground. His heightened senses perceived every corner of the battlefield with crystalline clarity.

His ability was the ultimate weapon for clearing monster tides: Telekinesis.

At his level, he no longer just moved small objects. He could manipulate the very micro-particles within matter. Just as he had turned a divine monument into dust in a domain, he now raised his hands toward the horizon.

Every monster within his field of vision was suddenly hoisted into the air, locked ten meters above the ground by an invisible force.

Sheikh issued a calm command: “Base, relay this—everyone, activate shields and retreat into your skiffs within thirty seconds.”

The people on the ground watched in awe as the monsters they had been fighting to the death were suspended, completely immobilized. Once the humans were clear, they saw a rain of chaos.

Without a single drop of filth touching his uniform, Sheikh pulverized the suspended horde. Tentacles, maws, dark green blood, and transparent saliva fell like a torrential downpour, washing away the evil in a single, one-sided slaughter.

Sheikh remained suspended in the air, a figure of absolute “slaughter” and absolute “hope.” Human leaders knew they needed this—an idol of glory to lead them through the despair of the fallen Northern bases.

Sheikh, however, looked at the mess on the ground and frowned. The rapid fall of the North, the rare nested S-class domains, the exponential mutations… and the missing Golden Eye. Everything pointed toward a terrifying turning point in the apocalypse. Everything was becoming more unpredictable.

…

Returning to the base, Sheikh bypassed the crowds. As he passed the high levels of the Sentry Tower, he spotted the S-class Guide—he still didn’t know the man’s name.

The Guide was wearing the Shadow Guild combat uniform. Sheikh slowed his pace slightly, thinking the emblem suited him. He reached out with a thin strand of mental power and briefly brushed against the Guide’s long hair.

Mhm, seems to have recovered quite a bit. Much more energetic.

Before the Guide could turn and see him, the corners of Sheikh’s mouth twitched into a faint, rare curve, and he vanished around the corner.

…

Xia Mingyu’s priority was finding Tang Yaopeng. His meager belongings might be cheap, but he’d still be heartbroken if they were lost.

Following his memory, he reached the sky-rail station. Usually, he’d avoid the expensive train, but the walkway was currently blocked by a mob of protesters. Their grievances were a chaotic mix: some against Sheikh’s appointment, some against You Yanzhou’s candidacy for Nirvana, and some against the soaring rent.

Xia Mingyu looked at the last one and felt a pang of agreement. If not for Tang Yaopeng, he really would be sleeping on the streets.

The base’s security was spread thin. Using a discarded ID card he found on the ground, Xia Mingyu slipped through the turnstiles. The station was eerily quiet; most lights had been smashed by protesters. He walked through the darkness, the sound of leaking pipes echoing like hollow heartbeats.

He stopped before a map of the rail system. Over the black-and-white map, red and green currents flickered, representing the trains. At the top, the gilded slogan of the Southern First Base had been crossed out with dark green paint. Next to it, a piece of fresh human skin had been pinned.

The Southern First Base was a strange place. It possessed a high-intelligence “Sanctuary” avatar, yet it allowed such cruelty to fester. It had its own set of rules in a collapsed moral system that Xia Mingyu still couldn’t decipher.

The train arrived. Its green-tinted glass reflected a shimmering, rainbow-like glow as it sped out into the open sky-rail, exposed to the artificial dawn. Xia Mingyu leaned his head against the glass, eyes closed.

But before reaching the next stop, he heard it—the heavy, labored breathing of a crowd. It was punctuated by coughing and the thick, iron scent of blood.

Xia Mingyu’s hand went to the small of his back, gripping the dagger that came with the Shadow Guild uniform. As he snapped his eyes open and drew the blade, he froze.

Butterflies. A carriage full of butterflies.