Chapter Twenty-One: Everyone Has Gone Mad

“What are you all standing around for? Get in there and fight, damn it!” Hulei roared in fury. He had already been smashed to the ground, yet his subordinates still cowered behind him—some even joined him, lying flat on the floor.

“Yes, yes! Don’t just stand there, everyone attack together!” The crowd shouted and finally surged toward Muyou as one.

Muyou felt his mind flicker with dizziness; he had endured Hulei’s full-force blow, followed by a relentless storm of attacks. Even though his body had become much stronger, he was finding it hard to withstand. Yet, there was a silver lining—through the devouring of souls, Muyou sensed his body undergoing a transformation. It was slow, but the qualitative leap was unmistakable.

He stumbled, barely managing to steady himself without falling. Seeing this, the crowd scrambled to be the first to charge at him.

“Hmph.” Muyou sneered with disdain; clearly, they had underestimated him.

If they were so eager for death, he would gladly send them all to the afterlife!

He glanced at the bodies scattered across the floor—just this morning, they had laughed and chatted over breakfast, fighting to pay for his meal. Now, they were separated by life and death, their paths irreversibly diverged. The image of their fearless faces being overwhelmed by this mob flashed through his mind, and a warm surge began to spread in his eyes.

This fury surpassed even the indignation he felt when Hulei insulted him.

It was rage beyond reason, breaking all boundaries!

In this world, what could be more precious than brothers and sisters willing to die for you?

Nothing!

With a roar, Muyou’s anger reached heights never seen before—only slaughter could bring him solace!

“Damn brat, I’m going to kill you!” The prisoner at the front shouted the loudest.

Muyou swung a hard slap, the sound of a fractured neck echoing instantly. The prisoner’s head twisted to one side, and his body collapsed stiffly.

Two more prisoners followed, trampling over their fallen comrade, attacking from both sides.

Muyou charged, leaping up, grabbing each of their heads with a hand, and, using momentum, smashed them down onto the ground.

Thud! Thud! With two heavy blows, their arms dropped lifelessly, no longer struggling.

Muyou’s furious roar echoed—killing three was not enough to vent his grief; instead, it drove him deeper into madness.

He would make them pay an absolute price!

Six prisoners rushed him at once. Muyou crouched, and as their fists and kicks surrounded him, he erupted, fists striking their stomachs with lightning speed. Just before their stomach acids sprayed, he swept his leg, flipping them all over. Six streams of blood-tinged vomit sprayed out like fountains in all directions.

“Mouyou, start eating!”

“Big brother, vent all you want—I devour faster than you can kill.” Mouyou’s childish figure infused energy into Muyou’s body, reassuring him not to worry.

“Good…” Feeling his deepest potential slowly awaken, Muyou grinned. These people would all become stepping stones for his strength.

Seeing their former companions dead or wounded, the prisoners of the twelfth floor went mad, surging toward Muyou like a tide.

No matter how strong one man was, the mass would wear him down!

“Damn it, they’re bullying my brother—shameless!” Mouyou added, furious.

“Heh, then my plan has succeeded!” Muyou grinned, making a face at the mob, then patted his backside and dashed toward the stone wall at the entrance, climbing swiftly. The prisoners, already crazed, saw his provocation and scrambled after him, determined to tear him apart.

The other prisoners who had entered later witnessed Muyou’s killing spree, the interception by a horde, and finally his laughter as he climbed the wall to a deadly escape route. All were left speechless.

This crowd was insane! Even with half an hour as a buffer, there was no need for such a massive conflict.

With only a few minutes left, the Freelancers would soon arrive!

Previously, the floor leaders had kept order; the prisoners were compliant. But now, with the influx, chaos spread like a virus. Old grudges resurfaced and arguments erupted everywhere, making the scene impossible to control.

They had all gone mad!

Dongguan watched Muyou’s agile climb, her body trembling uncontrollably. The swell of her chest grew firmer, the outline visible even through her police uniform.

Even Zuo Canglang, always cold-faced, straightened his cap and couldn’t help but smile. This kid had guts—no wonder that old fox Mo Han had personally named him for special care.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Muyou climbed the stone wall—built from granite and cement, uneven and treacherous. It could be climbed, but required tremendous grip strength; any slip would send one falling.

Several had already plummeted to their deaths.

Muyou glanced at his digital watch—seven minutes left. He kept an eye on the nearby Freelancers, worried they might break the rules and act early, while prisoners began to climb up.

Muyou immediately paced along the wall’s edge, kicking down any prisoners about to reach the top.

It was far easier than fighting them directly.

Gradually, Muyou discovered that even the severely wounded could leak fragments of soul—two or three fragments could equal a whole soul.

This delighted him; some were victims of circumstance, not deserving death.

Two minutes remained. More than thirty bodies lay on the ground. Hulei was stuck, supported by a young girl from the sixth floor, his face pale. This time, he’d suffered greatly—if the Freelancers charged in, he might end up on the “Losers’ Regret Show.”

He knew exactly what that was. The previous dangerous prisoner had participated in it; Hulei had personally pulled him down. It had been easy—not because Hulei was strong then, but because the old leader’s body had already failed.

A flash of that leader’s strange smile before dying crossed Hulei’s mind, sending chills through him. He could not let that happen to himself!

He whispered urgently to the girl, who listened, worry flashing in her eyes, but nodded in agreement.

Muyou saw none of this, for the half-hour mark had arrived.

Suddenly, a sharp wind whistled behind Muyou; he dropped instinctively, an arrow screaming past his ear, scraping his skin painfully.

In an instant, the prisoners were thrown into chaos. Dangerous prisoners from each floor displayed their force, suppressing the disorder and leading their people away quickly.

With death at their heels, all grudges were forgotten. Everyone followed their leaders in a desperate rush.

But the space was small, the crowd dense. The Freelancers could almost grab prisoners with a reach, knocking them down en masse. Some threw electric nets, the crackling sounds stunning groups at a time.

“Hahaha, this is heaven! Sick of watching those old fossils on the board all day—finally, I can let loose!”

“You beasts, run for your lives!”

“What are you staring at? I’ll kill you!” Some Freelancers, seeing the despair in captured prisoners, smiled and released them—only to recapture them as they tried to escape.

Others were outright killers, slashing through the crowd with machetes, screams echoing everywhere.

The ugliness of humanity was laid bare.

Looking at those twisted, hideous faces, Muyou felt that these people deserved to die more than anyone.

Two more arrows flew—both cunningly angled. Muyou wasted no time, stripping the prison uniform from a stunned inmate, hooking it onto the steel cable embedded in the wall, and sliding deep into the Prisoners’ Paradise.

The archer seemed determined to target Muyou. As Muyou tried to escape, arrows flew faster and sharper. Muyou looked closely—it was the same sharp-chinned youth, about his own age.

The youth had likely avoided seriously injuring Muyou before, but now, seeing Muyou about to disappear, he drew a feathered arrow, pulled the bow to a full moon, aimed, and let fly.

The whistling of this arrow was fiercer than any before.

Muyou, suspended in midair, had no way to dodge—it struck his left arm dead-on, which instantly went limp.

Cold sweat burst from Muyou; he grabbed the prison uniform with his right hand.

He had nearly fallen from a hundred-meter height!

The youth in the angel mask smiled faintly, making a cutting gesture across his neck at Muyou.

Muyou stared him down, pulled the arrow out with his teeth, blood spraying, and bit it in half.

This grudge—I’ll remember it.

Seeing the twelfth floor prisoners stranded and captured on the wall, Muyou smiled with satisfaction.

His ultimate goal was achieved.

In truth, Muyou never intended to kill Hulei. They were equals; Hulei at full power would force Muyou to retreat.

Muyou’s real aim was the souls of the dead, to help Mouyou grow stronger as soon as possible.

And so many deaths would give Hulei plenty of headaches!

Muyou slid quickly along the cable, but felt weakness spreading from his left arm throughout his body.

The arrow was coated with anesthetic.

“Dammit!” Still suspended high above, Muyou could only lament his fate.