The Cleaner Project Commences! (Bonus chapter for Ally Zhe Rang)

Fang was caught off guard, and a splash of acid hit his chest. It immediately sizzled like sulfuric acid, producing a thick, acrid smoke and searing nerve pain that would have made an ordinary person scream and roll on the ground.

But for Fang after his transformation, pain only made him fight harder!

In just a dozen seconds, Fang carved the Ouroboros B Bio-Weapon Specimen in front of him into chunks. The sharpness of his claws was absolutely not something ordinary flesh and blood could withstand.

Of course, Fang paid a considerable price for this quick victory. A bowl-sized bloody hole was punched through his right chest, and three fingers on his left hand were severed. Still, such injuries were acceptable to him.

It was worth noting that as Fang shredded the enemy before him, he noticed obvious mutations in its internal organs. A mass of black-red, snake-like bizarre creatures writhed together, and even its blood had turned into a thick, black-red paste!

Fang had no time to dwell on these details. In truth, he had experienced even stranger things. His immediate priority was recognizing that he was in the open while the enemy lurked in the shadows, putting him at a severe disadvantage. He needed to evade the next wave of attacks first.

He didn't take the elevator—too easy to rig—but instead bolted down the fire escape. With his transformed physique, it took him only about thirty seconds to sprint from the twelfth floor all the way to the basement level two garage.

In the garage, Fang had prepared a contingency. He yanked off a tarp, revealing a modified Harley motorcycle. A bike was far more agile than a car and matched its speed, making it Fang's first choice.

At that moment, five or six men rushed down from above, all dressed in identical black suits and wielding firearms. They must have been the ones blocking the elevator upstairs and charged down when they sensed something wrong.

But their timing was poor. Fang still had forty or fifty seconds left in his transformation. With a roar, he charged straight at them.

They raised their guns and fired, but Fang couldn't outrun bullets—he could outrun their reactions. He leaped, ran several large strides horizontally across the wall, bullets chasing dust behind him, and then landed in the middle of the group.

Though these men were well-trained, they weren't much stronger than the crew at the docks. Fang slaughtered them like a one-sided massacre. In an instant, a storm of blood and gore erupted.

A minute later, a Harley roared out of the parking garage, not taking the regular route but the fire escape. After accelerating, it jumped from a flower bed, clearing a distance of five or six meters.

Even if the enemy had set up an ambush at the garage exit, it was all for nothing. The bike quickly vanished into traffic.

Everything was faithfully recorded by the cameras above and transmitted to a black command vehicle two kilometers away.

In front of the command vehicle's screens sat a man. He was one-eyed, burly, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, his hair slick with wax so shiny it could reflect light, and even sporting a bow tie.

He was Wilson, the Executive Director of Anmoreya Corporation's Asia division.

Watching Fang's retreating figure, Wilson said slowly:

"Excellent. Your combat power far exceeds our expectations."

He sneered:

"But now that I've learned the B Bio-Weapon Specimen didn't last ten seconds, my authorization has been upgraded to A+ level! Let's see if you can survive this time!"

With that, Wilson pressed the communicator beside him and issued his order:

"Keep close tabs on his movements. Once he enters a sparsely populated area, deploy the Cleaner immediately!"

Fang's Harley roared, kicking up a plume of smoke as it took a ninety-degree turn onto the riverside road. The area was secluded, the sky already dark, with few cars on the road and a light drizzle falling.

Fang had his reasons for heading to a less populated place. All the enemies who had attacked him so far appeared in human form.

With the enemy hidden and him exposed, going to a crowded area meant he'd have to stay on high alert constantly—every person around could be an enemy. Was that any way to live?

So Fang's choice wasn't wrong. As this thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help thinking of someone else—an ordinary-looking girl with glasses—and felt an indescribable pang of pain:

"Damn it, if Xixina hadn't been assassinated in the last world, with her psychic tentacles to distinguish friend from foe, how could I be this pathetic?!"

Fang didn't yet know that his movements were being tracked by two satellites in the sky, even the tag on his collar clearly visible. Both satellites bore distinct black-red triangular markings.

In the command vehicle a dozen kilometers away, Wilson sneered and issued his command:

"The riverside road is sealed. Only seventeen humans are active in the area—within controllable range! Launch the drones, destroy his vehicle, and notify the field team to deploy the Cleaner! This man holds many secrets, so try to take him alive."

Less than a minute after the order, a dozen drones flew in from afar, opening fire on Fang. They kept a distance of over fifty meters, using special thermite rounds, each drone capable of fourteen shots!

Faced with this attack, Fang was utterly passive, almost unable to fight back. His lack of ranged combat capability was exposed. In less than twenty seconds, his custom Harley was set ablaze.

He himself was forced into a nearby drainage culvert. The drones lost their firing angle and could only circle uselessly outside.

This stalemate didn't last long. In the distance, the "thump-thump-thump" of helicopter rotors sounded. Through the clouds on the horizon, three large Kearney helicopters could be seen approaching in a triangular formation.

Beneath each large helicopter hung a massive black box, over four meters long and two meters wide, its surface dull and marked with a black-red triangle pattern.

After the helicopter cluster reached Fang's vicinity, they didn't descend but directly dropped the three large black boxes.

The boxes fell from several hundred meters high, hitting the ground with a dull thud but neither cracking nor deforming. In the distant command vehicle, Wilson's cold voice rang out:

"The Cleaner Project is now officially activated!"