Chapter Seven: The Arrest

The non-Newtonian fluid lining the liquid bulletproof vest could withstand the majority of gunshots, while the high-fiber fabric was extremely resistant to cutting. The modular design further dispersed the impact of blunt force. With offensive and defensive gear costing hundreds of thousands of yuan per person, the Special Security Unit was nearly invincible—yet they had never encountered an opponent who was this fast, this precise, and this ruthless.

At this moment, Adonsa’s back was hunched, his shoulder muscles protruding like wings. His long, ape-like arms could easily support the weight of a burly man without a tremor, while his lower body was as robust as a kangaroo’s, packed with taut, knotted muscles that made him resemble a grotesque ball of flesh riddled with tumors from a distance.

Compared to three days ago, Adonsa had become even more monstrous, more inhuman—and more powerful. This was his newly enhanced combat form: though deformed in appearance, it imposed no restrictions on his movements. On the contrary, he was more agile and stronger than any ordinary human.

Beneath this hideous exterior hid a force surpassing even the legendary Hunchback of Notre Dame. Adonsa was in a full combat state, a lethal dose of adrenaline flooding his veins like injected water. His core essence tightly regulated the firing of nerve signals, ensuring that the near-burning sensations in his body would not cloud his judgment.

There was not a single wasted tremor in his muscles; all his strength was channeled into precise, devastating strikes. If an average person could utilize twenty percent of their muscular potential, Adonsa could command more than eighty percent. With a full-force punch, he could shatter a reinforced security door, unleashing nearly half a ton of raw power.

Though the chaos of battle rarely allowed him to unleash such terrifying blows, the sheer force behind his every movement was enough to send the squad of burly men flying. His attacks, cruel and efficient to the extreme, carried a chilling, artistic brutality.

To support such explosive acceleration and agility, Adonsa required traction far superior to spiked shoes. His feet were more aptly called claws—twice as broad as an average man’s, with rubbery, calloused pads that provided exceptional grip and elasticity. His ten thick, sharp toenails clawed into the concrete, leaving pale scratches in their wake.

In the gloom, Adonsa’s eyes—enhanced with focusing crystal plates—captured every detail in the faintest light. He struck like lightning, not with a blow that could shatter a security door, but with two rigid fingers, jabbing three times in rapid succession like a drawn crossbow.

Three Special Security officers’ eyes widened in shock. They clutched at their throats and collapsed. Within two seconds, Adonsa had shattered their unprotected larynxes and windpipes. While not instantly fatal, none of them could possibly keep fighting in such a state.

One officer, finally recovering his wits, lunged from behind, locking his arms around Adonsa’s torso while driving a knee forward to break his balance. With unsteady footing, a man’s strength is halved.

The one in front aimed to seize Adonsa’s shoulder, springing up with a knee strike aimed three inches below the navel. Their coordinated assault was swift and practiced, the result of countless drills.

Adonsa swung an elbow backward, precisely striking the rear attacker’s lower lung. Though the bulletproof vest absorbed some of the force, the ribs snapped and drove into the diaphragm and lung. Pain in such a critical area for respiration instantly shattered his will to resist—he could neither cry out nor breathe without agony.

With Adonsa’s understanding of anatomy and his immense strength, killing a strong man with a single finger was as easy as drinking water. Even caught off guard, he could deal with anyone.

The man in front barely managed to grab Adonsa’s shoulder before Adonsa crashed their knees together with a sickening crack. As the man grunted in pain, Adonsa’s knee surged forward, ramming him in the groin.

Another body crumpled to the ground.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

After Adonsa felled five men in an instant, someone finally managed to find an opening to fire. Remarkably, Adonsa dove to the ground before the first shot rang out, slithering toward the shooter like a snake. The darkness and his bizarre, shifting form rendered the volley of bullets futile. The shooter barely lasted a second before collapsing in agony, bones shattered.

Only eight men had entered the alley to fight, but after only a few exchanges, just two remained—the shock was unprecedented among the Special Security Unit. Even when they had hunted down the infamous mercenary king, they had never faced such an unimaginable onslaught.

Everyone felt like a pack of wolves reduced to fools by a rampaging dromaeosaur.

At this moment, Adonsa resembled the ultimate predator from the Cretaceous period—a dromaeosaur incarnate.

The primal bestiality etched into Adonsa’s instincts, combined with a newfound, unprecedented intelligence, was transforming this once frail body into the greatest predator in the history of the Earth.

Yes, this seemingly savage and brutal monster possessed intelligence. Even if he could barely speak or grasp human society, his advantages in biological modification were unrivaled; what he lacked was merely experience.

He was constantly thinking, optimizing his nervous conduction, skeletal leverage, and muscular joints—instinctively unlocking every potential of his body, even surpassing human limits.

If humanity’s study of biology was like groping blindly across a river, Adonsa was a born leviathan, effortlessly plunging into the fathomless depths.

Just as ants cannot see the sky and dogs cannot perceive color, the difference lay in the very nature of biological perspective. That was why Adonsa could, in a matter of days, surpass hundreds of years of human biological science and transform his body into a true weapon of death.

Groups of Special Security officers were brutally beaten in the narrow alley, while those at a distance dared not fire for fear of hitting their own. Their frustration was indescribable.

“Retreat! Retreat!”

In the command room, Yuan Liming managed to keep his composure at this critical moment. He grabbed the microphone and shouted the order without hesitation.

His greatest fear had finally come to pass. In such confined quarters, the advantages of firearms and numbers were nullified. Without bulletproof vests, even a thug with a knife could kill one or two elite Special Security officers.

Yet the ferocity of the criminal exceeded his worst expectations. Before Yuan Liming could even react, one of his squads was almost entirely wiped out.

These were his trusted, highly-trained subordinates, each with over three years of rigorous training—now lost in such a meaningless place. The rage nearly made his eyes bleed.

But as a commander, he could not afford to be ruled by emotion; he had to remain calm.

The scent of blood still hung in the air. The last two survivors exchanged a glance. One raised his gun and fired wildly, while the other turned to flee.

Their extensive experience had already told them the enemy was strong enough to kill them in an instant. If both tried to run, exposing their backs, they would die immediately. Someone had to stay behind.

There was no argument, no hesitation. In battle, any delay could be fatal. The one who chose to live and the one who chose to die made their decisions without pause.

Yet even the torrent of gunfire could not suppress Adonsa.