Volume One: Mutation Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Spider's Lair

After carefully surveying his surroundings, Liu Cong noticed a subway entrance not far away. The sign indicating the entrance had long since collapsed, leaving only the elevator entrance protruding from the ground.

He descended the stairway leading into the entrance. As soon as he stepped into the narrow passage, a burnt, acrid smell assaulted his senses, making him nauseous. He couldn't tell what had been burned.

Liu Cong focused his gaze; nothing in the darkness could escape his eyes. All he saw was a deserted corridor, with scorched marks from a fire still lingering, and a few machine guns scattered on the ground.

His heart sank. Even their weapons had been abandoned; the chances of survival for these people grew ever more bleak. He stepped into the darkness, appearing calm and composed, though inwardly he was on high alert. The experiences of recent days had taught him much: nature was full of wondrous creatures, each evolved over millions of years with unique abilities. He was no biologist; most creatures' habits were mysteries to him—and mysteries meant danger. If he wished to survive, he had to be wary of every mutated being he encountered, never underestimating any altered species.

Tap, tap—

His footsteps echoed far along the silent subway corridor. Turning a corner, he was met with the familiar sight of the subway station. A few dusty ticket machines stood to one side; the spacious hall was empty, with only some scattered parcels on the floor and a single military boot lying quietly.

Liu Cong stepped over the barrier and picked up the boot. There was no blood, only scuff marks at the toe, as if some creature had dragged its owner away, and in the frantic struggle, the boot had been kicked off.

He crouched to examine the ground carefully, discovering a drag mark that stretched further down into the depths of the station. He followed it swiftly to the next level. After descending the long staircase, both subway track entrances remained open, but the drag mark vanished here.

Summoning black fire in his hand, Liu Cong jumped onto the tracks, continuing his search. Unbeknownst to him, as the black fire flickered to life, a tiny, sinister shadow lurking in a corner quietly stirred.

As he walked, Liu Cong sensed something amiss—he had overlooked one detail all along. The spider webs in the corners appeared normal in size, no different from those found in everyday life. Yet, in this apocalypse, with no mosquitoes or insects, the abundance of webs was an eerie sight.

Returning to where the drag mark disappeared, he examined the area closely and finally spotted faint crawling traces on the ceiling, leading to the opposite side of the station.

Upon reaching the other entrance, Liu Cong found the once-empty hall thick with spider webs. The webs crisscrossed, intertwining in every direction, their strands unnaturally thick, filling the entire hall. From his pocket, his watch beeped twice.

Countless spiders lay quietly atop the webs—each enormous, their bodies nearly half the height of a person, bloated abdomens dominating their forms, eight black legs curling as they perched. At the center of the dense webs lurked a monstrous creature—a giant spider, three meters tall by Liu Cong’s estimation. On its web hung over a dozen human-sized cocoons, which occasionally twitched.

They were still alive!

Liu Cong was overjoyed. His greatest fear was finding the place only to discover everyone dead. Though the situation was dire, as long as people were alive, hope remained.

A thin strand of web stretched across the corridor, which Liu Cong broke with a kick. As if a switch had been flipped, the entire horde of spiders sprang to life, scrambling across the webs toward him, thousands of beady eyes fixed upon him. Even Liu Cong felt a chill run through his heart at the sight.

The mutated spiders were not only huge but fast; within seconds, they had reached him, baring their fangs with ferocity and agility.

A surge of energy radiated from Liu Cong, and in an instant, everything around him froze. The countless mutated spiders, caught mid-motion—some clawing, some twisting—suddenly stopped, as if petrified. Even the trembling webs stilled.

Ignoring the immobilized spiders, Liu Cong strode forward to the central area, stopping before the giant spider. On the web, the dozen cocooned figures hung silently, occasional glimpses of flesh visible through the silk.

The enormous spider was suspended above them, glaring at the intruder with hateful compound eyes. Its swollen abdomen hovered overhead like a hot-air balloon, protecting eggs the size of watermelons beneath. If its face could mimic a human’s, it would resemble the spider demons of old tales.

This damned spider demon intended to feed these warriors to its soon-to-hatch brood!

“You’ve really picked the perfect time,” Liu Cong muttered, uncertain whether he spoke to the unfortunate soldiers or the immobilized mutants.

After freeing the warriors from their bonds, Liu Cong helped each tear away the webbing. The first freed soldier, blinded by darkness, could not discern his rescuer’s face. Cautious in the unknown environment, he said nothing, instead lying on the ground, feeling around. Upon finding his cocooned teammates, he suppressed his excitement, drew a short knife from his boot, and began slicing at the webs.

When all the webs had been cleared from their bodies, Liu Cong spoke, “Follow the sound of my footsteps.” He turned and walked toward the passage out of the spider’s lair. The freed soldiers, though unsure who their savior was, could distinguish friend from foe, and obediently supported one another, following Liu Cong’s deliberately loud footsteps.

Once they had left the lair, Liu Cong dared to summon a wisp of black fire in his hand to illuminate the surroundings for the soldiers. Even though its glow was faint, it was enough for them to see. The reason he hadn’t used it earlier was the fear that the peculiar flames might ignite the webs, creating a deadly inferno.

“Head over to that passage, away from here,” Liu Cong instructed, pointing them toward the stairway to the upper level, addressing the group, whose faces were filled with elation.

Wu Feng calmed his excitement at meeting his idol and led his team away. Once they were at a safe distance, Liu Cong turned back, tossing the wisp of black fire into the spider’s lair.

In an instant, flames erupted. The paradise of the mutated spiders was transformed into a hellish inferno, devouring them one by one as they regained movement, turning them to ash. The raging fire swept through the lair, illuminating the giant spider’s eyes with a defiant, hateful glare, its last moments locked onto Liu Cong—the source of the blaze.

Liu Cong watched calmly as the giant spider demon was consumed, noting its hideous death pose, then slightly curled his lips and strode out of the passageway. As he departed, searing heat swept through the subway corridor, destroying everything.

Wu Feng and his squad stood quietly at the entrance to the underground passage, watching the bright flames in the distance, and that tall, handsome figure walking toward them, his back to the roaring fire, moving with the ease of a stroll.

“Master Sword Immortal! Thank you for saving us!” Wu Feng, full of emotion, could only manage this awkward sentence after a long pause. The others gazed reverently at the mighty Sword Immortal, a surge of passion rising within them—a willingness to lay down their lives for him.

“No need to thank me. You should thank your luck. The spider eggs were about to hatch, which is why you survived long enough for rescue,” Liu Cong said, waving his hand, his tone indifferent. Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “Let me lead you out. This is not a place to linger.”