In the wilderness in 2187, the west wind carried sand and gravel and hit the alloy helmet, making a harsh friction sound. Fu Yunshen was half-kneeling on the ground. The high-frequency vibrating knife he held tightly in his right hand was still humming slightly. The purple-black blood remaining on the blade dripped down the blade, making small dark pits on the dry ground.
The C-level crackclaw beast in front of him had lost its breath. The fist-sized source core was accurately dug out and was still slightly hot. One second, this strange beast had a mouth full of fangs open, and its claws rushed towards him with a sharp sound that rent the air. The next second, he avoided the vital point and pierced the head with a knife. His movements were clean and neat, without any extraneous elements, just like the thousands of strange beasts he had hunted in the past ten years.
