Ultraman: It turns out this is the easy mode.

As mentioned before, Cui Ming had a room set aside in his residence to store the weapons that he could no longer use.

The room wasn't large, but it was spotless. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, falling on the weapons and giving the cold metal a warm glow.

These weapons are all old comrades who have gone through thick and thin with Cui Ming.

Even though he can no longer hold it in his hands to go to the battlefield due to the erosion of time and the wear and tear of high-intensity battles, Cui Ming has never thought of discarding it.

He always makes time to come to this room in person and take care of these old things.

He would use a clean, soft cloth to carefully wipe away the dust and rust from the surface of the weapon, even those parts that were covered with scratches and dents, he would wipe them meticulously; for some parts that could still be disassembled, he would carefully disassemble them, apply special maintenance oil, and ensure that they would not completely rot.

The movements were so gentle, as if handling the most precious treasure, and the speaker would occasionally mutter a few words, as if recounting recent experiences to old friends.

After all, these weapons had been with him in battle for far too long.

Every scratch and every wear mark is etched with the smoke and glory of the past, carrying his unforgettable memories.

Some of these weapons shattered into scattered fragments during the final battle due to the impact force far exceeding their limits.

Even so, Cui Ming did not miss a single fragment. He carefully collected them all, took them home, and placed them in a special display box in this room.

They were his old buddies who fought alongside him to the very end, his most loyal companions throughout his past years.

Cui Ming couldn't bear to throw them away from the bottom of his heart. This room was more like a private memorial hall, treasuring his bond with these old friends.

What Cui Ming didn't know was that at that moment, a group of uninvited guests had already quietly set their sights on these "old buddies" in the room.

That's right, those Eberon cells that wander around, eager to find a host.

To be honest, Ebolon cells were also filled with grievances and bitterness.

Their instinct is to find a suitable host to possess, thereby reproducing and growing stronger. But now, this simple instinctual need has become an extremely difficult task.

That Storm One is like a watchful gatekeeper, always keeping a close watch on them!

No matter which potential host they try to approach, they are always detected in time by Storm One, either dispersed directly or suppressed severely, without even a chance to get close to the host.

"How hateful!" A cluster of Eberon cells writhed wildly in the shadows, conveying intense anger.

They were so frustrated they were about to explode, and they couldn't help but wail in their hearts: Waaaaah! Why are we so miserable?! We don't even have a chance to find a host!
Damn Storm One! We'll remember this grudge! Don't give us a chance; if there's even the slightest opening, we'll break through your defenses!

The cells of Ebolon gritted their teeth and swore in their hearts that their resentment towards Storm One had reached its peak.

Despite their anger, their survival instincts still kept them somewhat rational.

They knew that breaking through Storm One's defenses in the short term was almost impossible, and they had to find another way.

Eberon cells also need to find good hosts. Even if it is not the optimal choice, as long as they can attach themselves and survive, it is better than wandering around and potentially dissipating at any time.

Just as they were searching everywhere, almost in despair, Cui Ming's weapons shop, and the broken weapons inside, came into their view.

A bold idea quietly took root in the Eberon cell cluster—those weapons, though damaged, carried Cui Ming's aura and fighting spirit; perhaps they were viable targets for possession.

Thus, these desperate Eberon cells set their sights on the damaged weapons that Cui Ming had treasured, observing them silently from the shadows and waiting for the right moment to possess them.

The Eberon cells, hiding in the dark corners around the weapons shop, finally got the opportunity they had been waiting for—after finishing his maintenance, Cui Ming gently stroked the surface of each of his old buddies, whispered, "I'll come see you again next time," and then turned and closed the door before leaving.

The moment the door closed with a soft thud, the Eberon cell cluster, which had been quietly dormant and concealing its presence, instantly became active.

The dark purple clusters of cells, like a tide released from its restraints, rushed into the weapons shop through tiny gaps in the doors and windows.

They quickly circled the room, their greedy eyes sweeping over the guns hanging on the walls, the swords on the shelves, and the pieced-together weapon fragments in the display cases, finally locking onto these old weapons that carried the aura of their lives and the will to fight.

Without the slightest hesitation, the Eberon cell cluster rapidly split into countless tiny dark purple light spots, each rushing towards a different weapon.

As if finding an outlet, they frantically adhered to the surface of the weapon, seeping in little by little along the scratches and cracks.

The weapon, which was originally cold and lifeless, developed a faint dark purple halo the moment it was attached to the Eberon cells. The halo flickered, as if it was resisting, or as if it was being forcibly assimilated.

The Ebolon cells exerted all their strength, releasing their own energy to erode the metal structure of the weapons while trying to match the residual energy fluctuations on the weapons, attempting to completely transform these weapons into their own carriers.

They knew that this was their only chance to escape their wandering predicament, and if they failed, they might never find such a suitable parasitic target again.

The process was not without its challenges. The lingering fighting spirit of Cui Ming on some of the weapons acted as an invisible barrier, slightly hindering the penetration of the Eberon cells.

But the Eberon cells had already reached a dead end, and their survival instincts enabled them to unleash even greater resilience.

They echoed each other, concentrating their energy to break through one by one. The dark purple aura grew increasingly intense, gradually covering the entire weapon. A strange energy fluctuation permeated the air in the weapon shop, completely shattering the previously warm and gentle atmosphere, replacing it with a cold and aggressive aura.

After an unknown amount of time, when the last cluster of Ebolon cells successfully penetrated into a piece of weapon fragment, the dark purple aura on the surfaces of all the weapons in the room finally stabilized and stopped flickering.

The once dormant weapons now seemed to have been given "life," with subtle energy tremors quietly spreading throughout the room—the Ebolon cells had succeeded. They had successfully possessed Cui Ming's old weapons, turning these old comrades who had fought bloody battles into new carriers for their survival.

The Eberon cells attached to a broken longsword were the first to transmit waves of excitement, followed by the Eberon cells on the other weapons, and the entire weapons shop was instantly enveloped in a wave of ecstasy.

They no longer had to wander around, no longer had to fear the pursuit of Storm One, and finally had a stable "place to stay".

At this moment, they were unaware that their actions not only desecrated the bond between Cui Ming and his old companions, but would also trigger a series of unpredictable consequences.

After the Ebolon cells successfully attached themselves to Cui Ming's old weapons, the anticipated scenario of the weapons going out of control and causing widespread destruction did not occur.

On the contrary, these parasitized weapons did not cause any serious destructive problems. Instead, they seemed to have been injected with a new and intense vitality, completely breaking free from their previous dormancy and becoming active.

At first, the noise was mild, consisting of only slight tremors and soft sounds.

The broken firearms hanging on the wall hooks swayed slightly, their metal parts rubbing against each other with a soft "crackling" sound; the swords on the display shelves hummed gently, like creatures that had been asleep for many years stretching their limbs, the cold glint of their blades swirling in the room; even the pieced-together weapon fragments in the display cases trembled quietly on their velvet linings, as if responding to some invisible call.

But this brief period of "docility" did not last long. The weapons' activity completely changed, heading towards an out-of-control frenzy.

"Kill! Kill! Kill the monsters!!!"

The first to attack was a broad-bladed longsword, its blade still bearing the deep nicks left from when it slew monsters—a badge of honor for its bloody battles.

At that moment, it suddenly broke free from the clips on the display shelf, crashed through the glass partition with a "bang," and floated straight into the air.

The blade's originally dull metallic luster was now firmly enveloped by a thick, dark purple halo, which flowed continuously with its tremors, emitting a roar full of violent energy.

The sound did not come from any vocal organ, but was a mixture of the energy fluctuations of the Ebolon cells and the metallic resonance of the weapon itself. It was hoarse, sharp, and carried an almost frenzied fervor, making one's scalp tingle.

Immediately afterwards, an old-fashioned rifle placed against the wall also "came to life".

Its stock slammed heavily on the ground, causing the entire gun to leap into the air. The barrel automatically rose and aimed precisely at the direction outside the window, as if countless enemies were gathering there.

The gun trembled violently, the bolt even sliding back and forth on its own, making a rattling sound, while simultaneously unleashing an equally frenzied shout: "For! Storm One!!!"

This shout, mixed with energy fluctuations, was like a spark igniting a barrel of explosives, instantly detonating the entire weapons shop.

All the weapons possessed by the Eberon cells, whether intact or not—whole longswords, chipped daggers, rusty machine guns, cannons with only half a barrel remaining, and even fragments of spent cartridges and broken blades—broke free from their original constraints and floated into the air one after another.

A dark purple aura wove into a bizarre energy network within the room, accompanied by countless frenzied roars that rose and fell, converging into a deafening, chaotic sonic boom that nearly blew the roof off.
"Kill the aliens! Kill the monsters! Kill the invaders!!!"

"Charge! Annihilate all enemies! For the sake of protection!!!"

"Kill! Leave no one alive! Tear the enemy to pieces!!!"

These weapons seem to have been uniformly indoctrinated with some kind of obsessive command, and their roars always revolve around "kill the enemy" and "protect," while the name "Storm One" is mentioned repeatedly, with the words filled with almost blind reverence, as if it were regarded as a supreme faith.

They frantically darted and collided within the cramped weapons shop; broadswords swung, creating sharp gusts of air and leaving deep and shallow scratches on the walls; old-fashioned rifles continuously emitted the "bang bang" of firing their magazines, with tiny, dark purple sparks occasionally flashing from their muzzles; and fragments of weapons, like spinning darts, flew around with sharp whistling sounds, crashing into display shelves and cases with a clattering sound.

It was clear that these old comrades who had fought alongside Cui Ming through thick and thin had completely gone mad.

The initial idea of ​​the Ebolon cells was simply to find a stable carrier to survive and escape the predicament of being hunted by Storm One, but they did not expect it to cause such a bizarre mutation.

These weapons bear the remnants of Cui Ming's years of battle-hardened fighting spirit. This spirit is tenacious and intense, intertwined with the parasitic instinct of the Ebolon cells themselves and the resentment suppressed by Storm One for a long time. Under some unknown influence, it has given birth to such a frenzied "fighting obsession".

Now, they are neither simple weapons nor simple hosts of Eberon cells, but have become a group of frenzied beings who only know how to shout battle slogans and fall into a state of indiscriminate fanaticism.

The doors and windows of the weapons shop rattled and banged from the chaotic energy inside, the windowpanes cracking with fine lines, and the doors shaking violently as if they were about to be smashed open at any moment.

The once neat, orderly, and warm memorial space is now a mess—display shelves have collapsed, display cases are shattered, velvet linings are torn to shreds, and glass shards and weapon parts are scattered on the ground.

The suspended weapons continued to roar and weave tirelessly, their dark purple aura growing ever stronger. The fanatical and frenzied aura spread outwards like a tide through the cracks in the doors and windows, as if announcing their "awakening" and their boundless thirst for battle to the outside world.

At this moment, Cui Ming, who had just left the weapons shop, was strolling in the courtyard, still savoring the warm scene of maintaining his old buddies. He was completely unaware that his treasured old weapons had turned into such a frenzied and chaotic state, and even less aware that trouble caused by these "old buddies" was quietly brewing.

Cui Ming's old cronies are already preparing to stir up trouble.
They're now preparing to use the power of the Ebolon cells to cause trouble!

Everything was for Storm One!!!

This is what these weapons are thinking right now.

They're about to begin their operation and wipe out the enemy completely! Annihilate them all! (End of Chapter)