Chapter Sixty: The Praying Mantis

Those eyes were exceptionally well-concealed, their emerald hue blending with the two “plants” like leaves. Strangely, the eyes lacked pupils and were fused seamlessly to the body, unmoving. Had Liu Chang not known of their existence beforehand, he likely would have passed by without noticing that these leaf-like things were actually “eyes”—let alone realizing that these plant-like entities were in fact deadly ambushers, masterfully hidden.

And if someone happened to walk past without spotting them, there could be only one outcome—death. In such a case, no matter how dangerous the opponent, even if its threat was far less than one's own, being ambushed while defenseless would still mean certain death.

But now that he had discovered these two concealed attackers, Liu Chang no longer feared them. He noticed his soldier companion, confused and oblivious, drawing ever closer to danger, and hurriedly called out a warning.

“Hey, be careful!” Liu Chang leapt from the undergrowth and shouted, “There are attackers behind you!”

“What?” The soldier, hearing a human voice, saw his worry vanish and quickly moved in the direction of the call.

“Careful—behind you, there’s something there,” Liu Chang warned again.

“Something?” The soldier glanced back, but saw nothing but grass and saplings. “What do you mean? Where are you? Are you alone, too?”

He walked as he spoke, unaware that a “sapling” behind him had begun to move, swift and silent as the wind.

The phrase “as still as a maiden, as swift as a startled hare” could have been coined for that “plant”—a moment prior, it was nothing but harmless flora; in the next instant, it transformed into a murderous monster. With a flash of green, the soldier, who had just turned his head, lost it forever—his head severed from his neck with a single, scythe-like slash from the creature’s arm. So swift was the decapitation that his airborne head had not yet registered death; in that single second, he managed a final expression—

A look of delight at having found a companion, instantly twisted into terror.

And in that brief moment, his expression was eternally frozen—thud—the face relaxed, the head hit the ground, and the once-living body was instantly drained of life.

“Damn!” At the sight, Liu Chang blurted out a curse. Yet even more reflexively, he raised his crossbow and fired.

Whoosh!

The bolt flew across the ten-meter gap, lodging deep in the monster’s body.

Thud!

The sharp tip, driven by immense force, pierced the creature’s bark-like armor and embedded itself in the flesh beneath, inflicting a serious wound. Stung, the creature immediately turned its body toward Liu Chang, seeking the source of the attack. As it moved on all fours, it shed its camouflage, revealing its true nature to Liu Chang.

They were mantises—two of them. Not enormous, but streamlined and agile. Their bodies crouched low, scythe-like forelimbs poised; even standing upright, they still resembled saplings. Though less than the size of a full-grown human, they looked especially vigorous.

“What’s happening?” Shen Mingyi, who had been following Liu Chang in a fog of confusion, could not make sense of the situation. First, Liu Chang muttered with the little girl, then called out, then answered someone across the mist—just as he thought a comrade had been found, he heard cries of “monster!” and saw an arrow fired.

“Two monsters just attacked that soldier,” Liu Chang explained, gesturing into the depths of the mist. “They look like mantises—small, but likely tough opponents. Get ready to fight.”

“Uh—”

Before Liu Chang finished, the mantises’ antennae twitched, as if homing in on the source of the voices. With a series of leaps and bounds, they darted toward Liu Chang’s hiding place at alarming speed.

“They’re coming!” Liu Chang shouted, shoving the little girl aside and diving into the underbrush himself.

Unaware of the immediate threat beyond three meters, Shen Mingyi reacted a moment too late; a wild mantis lunged straight at his head.

“Shit!” As the mantises entered his vision, the first thing Shen Mingyi saw was a giant, scythe-like claw slashing toward him. He cried out, dodging with a speed nearly twice that of the mantis, barely avoiding the blow. Instinctively, he swung his machete upward, slicing at the unarmored abdomen of the mantis, cutting through the soft flesh.

With one slash, Shen Mingyi split open the mantis’s belly, then followed with a powerful kick. With a sharp crack, the blow split the creature in two, green ichor gushing from the wound.

“Impressive strength and speed,” Liu Chang commented from a distance, genuinely admiring the display.

Yet admiration did not slow his hands—he reloaded and fired another bolt, halting a second mantis’s attack on Shen Mingyi.

Freed by Liu Chang’s timely intervention, Shen Mingyi seized the moment, swinging his blade in a swift arc to slice the other mantis in half at the waist—just as Liu Chang had dispatched the giant mosquito earlier.

Life-and-death struggles are sometimes that simple—over in an instant. Survival or demise, decided in a single heartbeat. Jungle combat has no room for the elaborate moves of martial arts tales, nor the hundred-round duels of epic novels. Like a tiger pouncing on a lamb or an eagle striking a hare, it’s all about being faster, more ruthless—nothing more, nothing less.

“You really are something. I was expecting a fierce fight,” Liu Chang said, slinging his crossbow and stepping out of the mist. He approached Shen Mingyi, kneeling to retrieve his bolts from the twitching mantis corpses.

“It’s nothing. I’m quicker and stronger than they are, and with you distracting them, they weren’t hard to deal with,” Shen Mingyi replied, frowning at the mantis bodies. “These things aren’t so tough, but their camouflage is top-notch. Look how much they resemble saplings! In the old days, mantises were famous for their mimicry—on a branch, they looked like a twig; in the grass, a blade of green. These monsters are even better. Even dead, lying in the grass, they’re hard to spot without close inspection. If I’d let my guard down, no matter how strong I am, I’d be dead.”

“True. Sometimes, being strong doesn’t guarantee victory,” Liu Chang murmured, recalling how that soldier had been decapitated in a single blow. He knew that if it had been him or Shen Mingyi, caught off-guard at such close range, escape would have been impossible.

“What about that soldier?” Shen Mingyi asked, seeing that the mantises had stopped moving.

“He’s dead. The body is over there,” Liu Chang said, pointing toward the spot where the soldier—whose name he didn’t even know—had fallen.

“I’ll have a look. There aren’t any monsters left, are there?”

“None.”

“Alright.” With that, Shen Mingyi walked to the indicated spot and saw the bloodstained ground and the headless corpse. Perhaps, after enduring so many days of apocalypse, he had grown accustomed to death and carnage. The gruesome scene stirred little in him. Silently, he collected food and magazines from the body, then returned to Liu Chang’s side.

“Did you know him?” Liu Chang asked, glancing toward the corpse.

“Not really. He wasn’t in my unit—we’d met a few times. I think his surname was Cao.”