Volume One Mutation Chapter Four One Year

Even though the moon hung high in the night sky, its silver radiance bathed the earth, casting a silvery glow upon the sword from beyond the heavens before him, lending it an even more unique allure.

Just as Liu Cong's fingers were about to touch the sword's blade, a sudden pain made him withdraw his hand in alarm—the strange sword was so sharp, it seemed to be surrounded by a field of keen energy that rendered it unapproachable.

Liu Cong had no time to glance at his throbbing hand before a bizarre scene unfolded before his eyes: the blood welling up from his palm floated around the sword, swirling upward along the blade in a counterclockwise spiral. The sword emanated a peculiar energy, drawing the blood to revolve around a golden sigil on the hilt, where it slowly merged into the mysterious rune.

Liu Cong stared in shock—this absurd scene made him question reality itself. Could those outlandish tales in novels actually be true?

After the sword from beyond the heavens absorbed Liu Cong’s blood, it suddenly stirred without a breeze. The tip of the blade pointed straight at him, and for the first time he saw it in its entirety: the blade was black and white, about the length of an arm.

Without warning, the sword’s tip aimed at Liu Cong. In that instant, his hair stood on end, his brow tingled, and a sense of peril surged from deep within. In the next moment, the sword flew at extraordinary speed and pierced his chest. Yet the blade did not emerge from his back; instead, it melded entirely into Liu Cong’s body.

As the sword entered him, Liu Cong felt waves of pain emanate from his chest, swiftly spreading throughout his body. The agony was as if his flesh were being sliced apart, his bones and sinews torn asunder. He could only utter a single scream before losing consciousness.

After he fainted, the black and white radiance that had surrounded the sword now encircled Liu Cong, fine as silk, almost liquid in form. This energy gently lifted his body, suspending him a meter above the ground.

In midair, the strange black and white energy continuously flowed in and out of Liu Cong’s body, often drawing out wisps of gray impurities. Had Liu Cong been awake, he would have realized these two mysterious forces were steadily strengthening his physique, reinforcing his bones and flesh—even as he remained blissfully unaware, sleeping deeply.

Meanwhile, at the foot of the mountain, seven or eight police cars had pulled up. A dozen officers swept their searchlights as they climbed the slopes. Just as they neared the summit, the black and white energy surrounding Liu Cong silently concealed his body.

While the world was abuzz with speculation—was the turning meteor merely celestial mechanics, or evidence of extraterrestrial life?—no one noticed the fall of a jet-black meteorite into the Pacific Ocean.

Strangely, it passed through the atmosphere without so much as a ripple or a sound.

The following morning, dozens of countries demanded that China disclose details of the unidentified celestial event, calling for joint research and sharing of the fallen object.

Countless news agencies swarmed the area, encircling Baoshan so tightly there was not a gap to be found. Fortunately, the police had set up barriers and established a secure perimeter well in advance.

Inside a room, Jiang Guangwen, Chief of the Xihang City Public Security Bureau, listened to his subordinate’s report with disbelief. “What did you say? Say that again!”

“Chief, the frontline officers have searched everywhere. There really isn’t anything up there—not even a crater.”

The young officer braced himself and repeated, “Not a trace, sir.”

“Nonsense! Last night, the whole world saw something fall on Baoshan. Did it just fly away?” Jiang Guangwen cursed loudly.

He’d been roused in the middle of the night by a call from the mayor, informed that an unidentified object had fallen from space onto Xihang City—his legs had nearly given out from fright.

He’d only regained his composure upon hearing it had landed in the mountains, and immediately deployed a large police force to the scene to secure and investigate. Now, someone was telling him they’d found nothing at all—how could he not be furious?

With videos of the meteor’s right-angle turn spreading wildly online, how was he supposed to explain this to the government, let alone to the public?

The young officer stood there, shrinking back, too afraid to speak further. He himself found the situation ludicrous—how much more so the chief?

After venting his anger, Jiang Guangwen paced a few steps around the office, then snapped, “Prepare the car! I’ll go myself. I refuse to believe there’s nothing to be found! Tell the team on site to widen the search area and comb every inch!”

“Yes, sir!”

But when Jiang Guangwen arrived at the scene, the search still yielded nothing. The only clue was a faint crack on a rock at the summit.

The neat cut that had been there was shattered after Liu Cong touched the sword, as the energy radiating from the blade had fractured the stone.

But no one would ever connect the minute fissure on the rocks with the impact point of an object that had plummeted from ten thousand meters above.

“Could it really have flown away?” At that moment, all the officers present were bewildered.

The search continued for two more days. After the entire mountain had been combed several times, Jiang Guangwen had no choice but to announce to the public that there was no impact site or extraterrestrial meteorite to be found on Baoshan.

This statement immediately aroused global suspicion. Many believed China was hiding the truth and demanded the disclosure of all findings.

In reality, every nation suspected this was an alien visitation. After all, meteors do not make right-angled turns, but extraterrestrial craft might—and the myriad photos and videos captured confirmed this was no ordinary meteorite fall.

News headlines proliferated: “Mysterious Celestial Visitor: Alien Arrival or New Technology?” “The Turning Meteor Stuns the World!” “Meteors Don’t Turn, but This One Did!”

A week later, an American cargo ship sank in the Pacific. Before going under, it sent out a distress signal. When rescue teams arrived, all they found was a patch of black water spanning dozens of meters.

Sonar scans revealed that the black waters were impenetrable; radar showed a massive target within, and the black sea area corresponded precisely to it.

Then, every diver who entered the black water disappeared without a trace. Equipment that crossed the threshold never responded again. The rescue team hurriedly reported the incident and called for reinforcements.

Ten days later, the black sea had expanded to a hundred meters across, immediately drawing worldwide attention. Leading nations sent experts to investigate.

The waters were found to be highly corrosive—so potent that even steel vessels were eaten away. No container could hold the black water, making analysis impossible.

And still the black sea grew, expanding like a horde of warriors conquering new territory.

A month later, the black sea spanned two thousand square kilometers. Humanity was powerless to halt its advance; no one knew where its limits lay.

Experts agreed: the expansion would not stop anytime soon. Its only known peril was the extreme corrosion—no vessels could get close.

All nations joined forces, dispatching warships to patrol near the black sea, barring any ships from approaching, and monitoring the phenomenon closely.

Two months on, the black sea doubled in size again. It was now too vast to observe with the naked eye; only satellites could track its spread.

Two days later, a Japanese frigate, for reasons unknown, approached the black sea during a routine patrol. From the depths, several enormous tentacles surged forth, wrapping around the frigate and dragging it under.

The whole episode lasted less than ten seconds. The warship, over two hundred meters long, vanished from the surface as if it were a child’s toy—an event captured by satellite.

In a room at a naval base, several photographs lay spread upon a table.

A middle-aged officer studied them with a furrowed brow. After a long silence, he asked gravely, “Is this information accurate?”

“General, it’s true. Not only did our satellites capture it, but there’s been no word from the Japanese frigate—not even enough time to broadcast a distress call,” a young officer reported solemnly.

The general pondered for a moment, then said, “I understand. You may go.”

When the young officer left, the general dialed a number, reported the incident, and sent the shocking photographs.

Soon after, the heads of state of many nations convened a joint video conference to discuss this supernatural phenomenon: a creature able to drag a warship beneath the waves with nothing but a few tentacles—no ordinary giant squid could achieve such a feat.

To drag a warship under, the creature must be over three hundred meters in length, with unimaginable strength. This was the first appearance of a black sea creature, and it was terrifying.

No one knew whether there were more such giants lurking in the black sea. The ocean was full of creatures far larger than any common squid.

Half a year passed swiftly.

The black sea’s expansion now exceeded five thousand square kilometers. The Hawaiian Islands, in the heart of the Pacific, had long since been abandoned—the inhabitants evacuated to their home countries.

In those six months, another attack occurred: an American destroyer was shattered into pieces by a giant swordfish.

Fortunately, this assault happened outside the black sea’s boundary. The warship’s radar, combined with the swordfish’s inability to evade torpedoes, allowed the crew to kill it after scoring three direct hits.

This was the first black sea creature to be killed and recovered. For the first time, humans beheld the entirety of a black sea beast—a giant swordfish, five tons in weight and twenty-five meters long.

But no one took any comfort in this. The incident proved black sea creatures could operate outside the black sea, meaning any part of the Pacific could be their domain.

Governments had no choice but to make this public, announcing a ban on all ships entering Pacific waters and forbidding swimming in the sea—a decree that sent shockwaves across the globe.

A full year after the meteor incident, Liu Cong finally reappeared on Baoshan.

Over the past year, the black-and-white divine sword had ceaselessly strengthened his body. Now, Liu Cong floated in midair, eyes closed; his once fair skin was now luminous, his short hair had grown into flowing locks.

The black and white energies seemed to be completing their work, gradually merging into his physical form. As the energy drew inward, signs of awakening appeared on Liu Cong’s face.