347: Chapter 347 Whose Hands Are Shaking?

The surroundings were too quiet, so quiet that they could only hear their own chaotic heartbeats.

This rolling thick ink seemed to possess a living life, greedily devouring all light in the surroundings.

The density of the black fog had risen another level.

Visibility plummeted, rapidly compressing to a distance of less than one meter.

Even if they pushed their Peak Fourth-Order vision to the limit, to the point where their eye sockets were strained with red bloodshot lines, they still couldn't see the faces of their teammates beside them at all.

The only image they could capture in their field of vision was the arm extending from their side, and the hands tightly clasped together, knuckles turning white from excessive force.

This claustrophobic sensation of being completely deprived of vision was simply an inhumane mental torture.

"Don't panic... everyone, don't panic..."

Helan Que gulped down the cold, turbid air, feeling as uncomfortable as if his Lungs were stuffed with a handful of sand.

As a top hunter who had emerged from the desert, he had always been accustomed to controlling the overall situation, but now, that sense of control he prided himself on had been ruthlessly shattered.

In order not to let the beast named "Collapse" inside his heart break through the cage of reason, he had to force himself to speak, attempting to use conversation to dispel this suffocating dead silence.

"Everyone, steady your minds." Helan Que's voice, squeezed by the dense fog, sounded somewhat muffled and trembling, but he was still feigning composure to encourage everyone, as well as himself:

"The three of us are Peak Fourth-Order! As long as we huddle together tightly and connect our Qi and blood, no matter how bizarre that guy playing god is, he definitely won't find a blind spot to attack!"

While speaking, he squeezed the hands on his left and right tightly, attempting to confirm the presence of his teammates through the warmth of their palms.

"Think about it, when he ambushed Captain Shen Xiuan earlier, he only succeeded because Captain Shen Xiuan was berserk and had lost his reason, charging into the fog all alone!"

Helan Que swallowed a mouthful of saliva and continued to analyze:

"What does this mean? It means he doesn't dare to confront us head-on at all! If he really had the absolute strength to crush us, he would have appeared and wiped us all out in one go, why go to such great lengths to play these mind games?"

"It's one against three; he's definitely no match for us! As long as we don't scatter, he can only watch helplessly!"

These words were logical and well-founded, and under normal circumstances, they would definitely have the miraculous effect of stabilizing morale.

But in the current environment, they seemed pale and powerless.

These words echoed in the darkness, but did not receive any impassioned response.

There was only deathly silence.

Just when Helan Que felt the atmosphere was a bit awkward and was preparing to add a few more words.

He suddenly felt that the hand he was tightly holding with his right hand was shaking uncontrollably.

It wasn't a slight shiver, but rather like a motor connected to electricity, shaking violently, causing Helan Que's entire right arm to sway along with it.

In such a hellish place where you couldn't see your own fingers and even a needle dropping on the ground could scare you to death, the person right next to you suddenly shaking like they were having a seizure—who could handle that?

Helan Que's heartstrings were already stretched to the limit, and with this happening, he only felt a chill run down the back of his neck, and an unnamed fury mixed with panic surged up instantly.

"Hey! I'm telling you!"

Helan Que finally couldn't hold back. He abruptly lowered his voice, carrying a bit of annoyance and barely concealed fear, and reminded them loudly:

"Can whoever's hand is shaking please stop?"

"Everyone here is a first-team chief from their respective academies; we've seen plenty of storms, can't you show some composure? You shaking like crazy like this is making me feel creeped out!"

When his voice fell, the surroundings were silent for two seconds.

Immediately after, Yan Qinghuan's slightly hoarse voice came from directly in front of Helan Que.

"Brother Helan, it's Chu Tiankuo."

Yan Qinghuan's tone carried some helplessness and nervousness: "I also feel that the hand Chu Tiankuo is holding of mine has been shaking, shaking so much that my palm is full of sweat."

Hearing Yan Qinghuan's confirmation, Helan Que felt a little more settled in his heart.

So it was the usually aloof South Sea chief who was shaking.

This was understandable; after all, even a battle maniac like Captain Shen Xiuan had been silently taken out in seconds, so it was only human nature for Chu Tiankuo to feel afraid.

"Brother Chu, don't be nervous, we..."

Helan Que just wanted to speak a word of comfort.

However, from the thick black fog on his left, Chu Tiankuo's voice, filled with deep confusion and astonishment, suddenly came.

"What are you talking about?"

Chu Tiankuo's voice sounded close at hand, yet it carried a chilling, hollow feeling:

"It's not me? My hand isn't shaking at all!"

"..."

One sentence, a simple sentence.

But it was like a basin of minus fifty-degree ice water, pouring without warning from the crowns of Helan Que and Yan Qinghuan's heads, straight down to their heels.

Helan Que's Brain completely crashed in that instant.

His thinking seemed to fall into a strange stagnation, and then, a simple addition and subtraction math problem, carrying a suffocating, terrifying logic, slammed into his reason.

He was holding Chu Tiankuo with his left hand, and someone else with his right hand.

Yan Qinghuan was opposite, saying he felt Chu Tiankuo's hand shaking.

Chu Tiankuo was on his left, saying his own hand wasn't shaking at all.

So the question arose.

At this very moment, in this pitch-black fog where you couldn't see your fingers.

The cold, violently shaking hand that he, Helan Que, was tightly gripping in his right hand... whose was it?!!!

Unknowingly, a fourth person had appeared silently among the three of them!!!

Furthermore, he was holding hands tightly with this "fourth person"!!!

"Hiss!!!"

The moment they realized this, the three of them suddenly had their pupils shrink to the size of pinpoints!

An unprecedented chill rushed from the soles of their feet straight to their crowns!

Helan Que felt all the hairs on his body stand on end at this moment, his scalp tingling, as if countless ants were crazily gnawing on it!

"Let go!!!"

He immediately roared, his voice completely distorted and off-key!

The three of them were like touching a red-hot branding iron; in this extreme terror, they simultaneously let go of their tightly clasped hands in an instant!

Panic completely overwhelmed their last line of psychological defense.

"Die for me! You bastard playing god, get out here and die!!!"

Helan Que was like a mad wolf truly driven into a desperate situation, letting out a hysterical roar.

He didn't care about anything, his eyes becoming blood-red from congestion.

His Peak Fourth-Order Supernatural Ability of wild sand was frantically squeezed out without reservation, and the sandstorm around his body instantly turned into hundreds of sharp, peerless sand blades, rotating at high speed around his body, forcibly shredding the surrounding black fog.

"Kill!!!"

Relying on the positional memory from the moment he let go, Helan Que locked onto the direction of that "extra fourth person" and threw himself at it!

He didn't care about anything, pouring out all the killing moves he had learned in his life in one go.

"Bang!"

A muffled sound of physical collision rang out in the dense fog.

Hit!

Helan Que felt his right fist slam solidly into a warm body.

That feedback of a fist hitting flesh instantly gave his nerves, which were trembling with fear, a morbid satisfaction.

It really was a living person!

As long as it's a living person, I can beat you into a pulp!