Abyssal Wanderer.

In Jim's memory, the hallways of this cheap apartment were always filled with the stench of fermenting garbage and urine. But with the arrival of the pharmacist, a cheap disinfectant and a rusty, bloody smell completely masked that stench.

In the corridor, emergency lights flashed continuously, and he stood facing the pharmacist about ten meters away.

The disassembled rapier taken from Bai Rao's arm was not designed for human handling. Jim had to experiment for a long time before finally finding a less uncomfortable way to hold it.

The pharmacist watched him prepare with great interest, his baboon-like face maintaining a mocking smile.

During this time, many sounds like large spiders crawling came from all directions. Jim could see out of the corner of his eye that the deformed things were symbiotes that had come to help—they surrounded Wang Ying and Ji Mu.

"And here's some more good news: you'll be the last one to die... and before you die, you'll be able to witness firsthand how those two women, as the seedbed and biomass nourishment for the new symbiont, will breed the nightmare that will dominate the entire Nord resettlement area in the future."

The pharmacist continued to try to provoke Jim.

But the latter remained unmoved, simply snapping the switch to decompose the field, and the rapier in his hand was enveloped in a layer of shimmering green light.

"So... the Apollo beings don't need me alive, they only need my biological information?"

Jim spoke with the same calmness he felt inside.

After saying that, he shook his head again and continued:
"If they just want biological information, there's no need for such a grand display... Let me think, what they really want is my biological brain, right?"

The pharmacist shut his mouth.

Jim felt his thoughts had never been so clear. He looked at the pharmacist's increasingly serious expression and smiled slightly.

"Why are you silent now? Don't worry, I wouldn't do something as pathetic as immediately destroying my own biological brain and ruining your plans. After all, didn't I say before..."

As he spoke, he awkwardly gripped the two rapiers and hunched his back.

The Nyx Factor was slowly released from its storage chamber at the base of his spine. Nanoparticles silently seeped into the air, spreading like an invisible swarm of jellyfish through the corridor. Jim's consciousness began to extend—the nanoparticles became extensions of his nerve endings.

As the Nyx Factor resonated, the apothecary's mental outline appeared in Jim's perception—if described visually, it was a boiling crimson, pulsating with furious rage and bloodlust. But beneath this chaos, a layer of cold, calculating rationality was at work.

This guy isn't as manic as he appears.

I'm going to kill you!

After saying that, Jim moved.

The command from his brain was transmitted to his body, and his body reacted almost within a nanosecond—he was launched out before the concept of "sprint" even took shape and entered his consciousness.

The rapier in his right hand was extended, the slender weapon wrapped in a layer of faint light that was almost invisible to the naked eye—a manifestation of the disintegration field taking effect on the blade's surface, tearing the air molecules around the blade into an ionized mist.

The apothecary did not retreat; he simply raised his left arm. A thick layer of calcified carapace covered the skin of his forearm, which he intended to use to take the blow head-on.

But he underestimated the deconstruction stance.

The moment the rapier's tip touched the armor, the chemical bonds between molecules began to break down. The blade silently pierced the pharmacist's arm, like piercing a block of tofu, penetrating between the metacarpal bones and emerging from behind the elbow joint, carrying with it a cloud of flesh and blood that had been reduced to basic organic matter.

With his left arm pierced, the pharmacist let out a roar that sounded both angry and excited. The bone blade that grew from his right hand swept across at an angle completely contrary to ergonomics.

By the time Jim realized the intention, the bone blade was already only thirty centimeters away from his neck.

His body reacted before his mind could react; the reflex signals integrated into his Night Marrow caused his torso to lean backward in a posture almost like a yoga master. The blade tip grazed his nose, scraping off a layer of skin. Blood gushed out, flowing down his nose and into his mouth, the taste of rust filling his mouth.

One second too slow...

Jim thought to himself.

Indeed, since the goal is his biological brain, then in this battle, his head is no longer a vital part of his body. In that instant of thought, Jim thrust out his second rapier.

This time, he aimed for the pharmacist's kneecap. The disintegration field tore through the bio-armor's defenses once more, the blade severing multiple tendons and a major blood vessel. Dark black blood gushed out like a high-pressure water jet, splattering onto the corridor walls and emitting a burnt smell.

The pharmacist stumbled.

Just one step.

Then, he started to get serious.

A slender black shadow swooped down from the ceiling, but its target wasn't Jim; it was the apothecary's pierced left hand.

It was a living blood whip, its tail swiftly attaching to the bio-interface on the apothecary's left hand, countless tiny tentacles securing it, and then...

As the apothecary swung his left arm, the blood whip worm whipped through the air with a piercing sonic boom, wrapping itself around Jim's right wrist.

Jim's prosthetic arm was strong enough to crush the zombie samurai's katana, but the way the blood whip wrapped around him wasn't entirely a contest of strength—the blood whip worm's segments tightened around his wrist, twisting and shifting along the direction of the joint.

With a clang, the rapier, which was already difficult to grip, fell to the ground.

"You actually intend to fight me in close combat? You really have some courage."

The pharmacist scoffed.

Jim did not reply, but drew his rapier with his left hand and swung it back.

With a "swoosh," the blood whip worm wrapped around his wrist was cleanly severed.

Jim took the opportunity to jump back, creating some distance between himself and the pharmacist.

At this moment, the pharmacist's wounds were healing. The muscle tissue in his pierced left arm writhed like a living thing, new blood vessels and muscle fibers growing from the cut, weaving the torn tissue back together. The wound on his right knee was also closing, with tentacle-like filaments extending from the ends of the severed tendons, hooking, entwining, and tightening together.

Jim opened his mouth to say something, but he sensed the other person's next move.

"Snapped--"

A viscous substance spurted out almost right next to his left side.

The semi-transparent gel-like substance exploded on the ground, and the splashed droplets landed on the door panel next to it. The metal surface immediately hissed and bubbled, as if it had been splashed with concentrated acid.

A grotesque, hydra-like monster perched on the apothecary's shoulder, connected to him through countless tiny nerves and blood vessels—the acidic, gelatinous substance that had been spewed from its mouth earlier.

Did it miss?

The pharmacist tilted his head in confusion at first, then a look of sudden realization appeared on his face.

"No, it's you interfering with my visual perception, isn't it?"

As he said this, another symbiote climbed onto the pharmacist's shoulder.

It was a tubular structure made of flesh and chitin, with its surface covered with breathing pores, much like a combination of a beehive and genitals.

With nerves and blood vessels connected, those cannons were aimed at Jim.

"How about we try interfering with this?"

The pharmacist said with ill intent. (End of Chapter)