Chapter 265: Really a Werewolf!!!

“……”

Hao Zhengxing and the others stood frozen, utterly bewildered.

What in the hell just happened?!

They’d all assumed Lei Hui would slip away—yet inexplicably, he’d collapsed mid-stride!

Yes, *inexplicably*. They had no inkling of what transpired; one moment he was running, the next, he lay sprawled on the ground.

Then Wang Teng leapt lightly forward, landing before them like a shadow given form—and only then did the group snap back to awareness.

“Captain… was that you who struck him?” Hao Zhengxing blurted, stunned.

“Or did you honestly believe he just tripped over his own feet?” Wang Teng shot him a withering glance, voice laced with exasperation.

Their hearts hammered.

Just how formidable was Wang Teng?

To subdue Lei Hui—a Second-Star Combat Soldier—with such effortless ease?

And worse yet—they hadn’t even *seen* how it was done. That alone sent chills down their spines.

“Thank you… for saving me.” Yuan Jing stepped forward, voice soft as falling ash.

“Mm.” Wang Teng nodded, acknowledging her gratitude without denial. “In life-or-death combat, decisiveness is paramount. If your weapon falls into enemy hands, abandon it without hesitation. Never linger. And always reserve a sliver of strength—enough to fight, or flee.”

“I understand.” Yuan Jing bowed her head, humbled. Even now, her pulse still raced; this lesson would haunt her for years.

“Captain—you *betrayed* me!” Hao Zhengxing wailed, glaring at Wang Teng with wounded betrayal.

“What are you talking about? I know nothing. Not my problem.” Wang Teng shook his head, feigning innocence.

“Pfft!” The group burst into laughter.

“Hao Zhengxing, if you’re foolish, don’t blame the captain,” Li Wendong chuckled, clapping him on the back.

“Shut up! Who’s foolish?!” Hao Zhengxing roared, face flushed.

With the mission complete, tensions eased. Familiarity had grown among them, and soon they were teasing, jostling, laughing freely—until—

A sudden shriek shattered the air.

“HE’S NOT DEAD!” Huang Ping, a girl in the squad, cried out, voice shrill with terror.

Wang Teng’s senses flared instantly. He detected the faintest tremor emanating from Lei Hui’s seemingly inert body—and his brow furrowed.

At Huang Ping’s cry, the others whirled, eyes locking onto Lei Hui’s prone form.

“He’s *still alive*?!” Yuan Jing gasped, staring at the subtle convulsions rippling through his limbs.

“Dead or not, he looks harmless now. Let’s finish him off—send him to the afterlife properly.” Hao Zhengxing shrugged, already striding forward, hand reaching for his blade.

“*Don’t move!*” Wang Teng barked.

Hao Zhengxing froze mid-step, turning sharply. “What’s wrong, Captain?”

“Look—*now!*” Yuan Jing’s voice quivered, trembling on the edge of panic.

Lei Hui’s body spasmed violently—like a man seized by violent epilepsy. His spine arched, muscles twisting beneath his skin as though something writhed within. His frame began to *swell*.

*Clatter!*

The combat sword embedded in his chest was expelled by surging muscle, clattering onto the stone floor.

Black smoke curled from the wound—then, impossibly, it sealed itself shut. A guttural, bestial growl rumbled from Lei Hui’s throat.

“What—?”

Wang Teng’s gaze sharpened. A familiar aura prickled at his nerves…

*Dark Primordial Force!!!*

“How… how can Dark Primordial Force exist on Earth?” His eyes locked onto Lei Hui’s metamorphosing form, mind racing with disquiet.

Lei Hui’s silhouette thickened, bulking outward. Coarse black fur erupted across his skin—dense, bristling, unnatural.

“Fall back. *Now.*” Wang Teng commanded.

“Captain!” Hao Zhengxing and the others didn’t grasp the danger yet—but the shift in Lei Hui’s presence sent icy dread coiling through their veins. A primal warning screamed in their bones.

They longed to flee—but abandoning Wang Teng felt unthinkable.

“*Go!*” Wang Teng’s voice brooked no argument.

Only he knew the grotesque birth-pangs of a Darkborn—and how swiftly such abominations could slaughter untrained novices.

Seeing them hesitate, he added, terse: “This thing poses no threat to me. To you? Lethal. And if it escapes, the consequences will be catastrophic. You don’t know the secrets buried here. Just *do as I say.*”

“Be careful!”

Reluctantly, they retreated—heart-heavy, helpless.

“Gh… gh… *ghhh*…”

A ragged, animalistic wheeze tore from Lei Hui’s throat as he rose—slowly, agonizingly. His height now eclipsed two meters; his body bloated, monstrous, wreathed in coarse black fur.

He lifted his head.

His face—*was no longer human.*

“Holy *shit*—he’s literally a werewolf!” Hao Zhengxing yelped from afar.

Lei Hui’s visage had twisted beyond recognition: muzzle elongated, jaws lined with jagged fangs, eyes reduced to feral, blood-red orbs—neither man nor beast, but something *between*, something *hungry*.

“Another variant of the Darkborn?” Wang Teng studied the creature, calculating.

“*ROOOOAR!*” Lei Hui lunged, snarling, voice warped by rage and distortion: “You forced my transformation *prematurely*… You *deserve* death!”

Wang Teng blinked. “He still retains lucidity?”

“Hah… hah-hah… *HAHAHA!*” Lei Hui threw back his head, laughter sharp, unhinged. “I’ll tear you limb from limb!”

“Hmm… still affected,” Wang Teng murmured. “Feral. Unstable. Possibly psychotic.”

“…”

Lei Hui’s lupine face twitched—uncontrollably, violently—as if fury had reached its breaking point.

“You… you bastard…”

“Right now,” Wang Teng cut in, calm as still water, “do you *really* want to kill me?”

“…”

“After this transformation… do you crave human flesh?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious.

“…”

“Or perhaps… human blood?”

“…”

Hao Zhengxing and the rest stared, slack-jawed.

Facing a ravenous monster—*and* asking it survey questions? Was this some kind of field research?!

They exchanged glances, then collectively surrendered to the sheer, baffling absurdity of Wang Teng’s thought process.

Wang Teng seemed suddenly animated, brimming with questions—then, as if struck by a fresh thought, he pressed on:

“Oh, right! By the way, what on earth were you thinking—what twisted mindset led you to willingly transform into this grotesquely ugly form?”

“…”

“Are you psychologically deranged?”

“…”

With each question Wang Teng posed, Lei Hui’s fury swelled incrementally—until, at last, it erupted in full force.

He didn’t even know why he’d tolerated Wang Teng’s barrage of inquiries in the first place.

“You—”

“Enough!”

Lei Hui roared, a thunderclap of rage, and in an instant dissolved into a streak of black shadow—vanishing from his spot, then plummeting down from above Wang Teng’s head.

*Shink!*

The next moment, a battle-sword pierced straight through his heart.

“…”

How hauntingly familiar—this scene!

Lei Hui’s eyes bulged wide; he hadn’t even glimpsed when Wang Teng had struck—only to find a blade already buried deep in his chest.

“W-Why?” His mind reeled with bewilderment.

Why, after transforming into a Darkborn—after ascending to such terrifying power—had he still been felled by a single sword thrust?

What in the world was happening?

Lei Hui, utterly confounded, hung suspended midair, unraveling in chaos.