Chapter 1254: One Chance

After speaking, Zhou Mo turned to look at him, seemingly waiting for that “ant” to respond.

It didn’t take long before they indeed received a reply. The voice sounded relatively young, and it had clearly been a long time since the person had spoken to anyone—the words that echoed in Zhou Mo’s mind were even grammatically jumbled.

Still, Zhou Mo managed to roughly grasp the intended meaning.

She listened for a moment, then quickly raised her eyebrows and nodded.

“What did he say?” Yan Zhichun asked from the side.

“Tsk, you lucky bastard,” Zhou Mo turned back and said. “This guy happens to be the ‘leader of the ants.'”

“Uh…” Yan Zhichun paused. “So he can control the ‘ants’?”

“Pretty much.” Zhou Mo nodded. “He basically said that as long as all the ‘ants’ can sense eyeballs on the longhorn beetle, they’ll start moving.”

Yan Zhichun nodded, but something immediately felt off.

The longhorn beetle had “Concealment.” Given her current dilemma, there was no way she would ever cancel “Concealment,” so how could the “ants” possibly sense her eyeballs?

But beyond that, there was an even more important question to clarify.

“If none of them can speak, how is he supposed to notify all the ‘ants’?” Yan Zhichun pressed.

“Tsk, no idea. Let me ask.”

A short while later, Zhou Mo responded, “Asked. He says he can show you.”

The ant slowly crouched down, placed both hands on the ground, and began tapping lightly.

His rhythm was strange—some taps were soft, others heavy, with deliberate pauses in between.

*Tap. Heavy. Heavy. Heavy.*

*Tap. Tap. Tap.*

*Heavy.*

*Heavy. Tap.*

“Morse code…?” Yan Zhichun frowned. “J for ‘attack,’ S for ‘kill,’ T for ‘longhorn,’ N for ‘beetle’?”

“You know that?” Zhou Mo asked, surprised. “Tsk, I told you others would get lost here.”

“I happened to read about it in a book.”

“Oh…” Zhou Mo paused before adding, “You wouldn’t understand our ‘Cat’ whistle signals, would you?”

“You—”

Yan Zhichun had no time to banter with Zhou Mo. She only felt that she had once again underestimated the “ants.”

What a painfully realistic situation.

Unable to speak like normal people, they had truly learned to communicate like insects—through tactile signals. After all, they had countless days to move freely here. Without a way to communicate, loneliness and fear alone would have been enough to shatter their sanity.

But the “ants” couldn’t hear. How was this Morse code supposed to reach the thousands of their companions across the entire field?

As Yan Zhichun pondered, she noticed the “ant” repeating the same four rhythms. Soon, the nearest “ant” began mimicking, tapping out the exact same pattern.

Then, those further away joined in, repeating the rhythm and passing it on to those closest to them.

Only then did Yan Zhichun realize that the “ants” were positioned strategically—spaced at fixed intervals, just far enough to avoid touching each other yet close enough to sense the vibrations from the ground.

Within a minute, nearly every “ant” in the area was repeating the four rhythms. Individually, their taps were faint, but at some point, they suddenly synchronized.

*Tap. Heavy. Heavy. Heavy.*

*Tap. Tap. Tap.*

*Heavy.*

*Heavy. Tap.*

The exhilarating sound pulsed like the heartbeat of the earth itself, thrumming in sync with everyone’s racing nerves.

“Ants…” Yan Zhichun murmured, watching the rare spectacle. “Everyone here wants to live…”

Now that the plan had surfaced, the next step was to execute it flawlessly. The ants had given enough information—anything else they wouldn’t know.

“But how do we make the longhorn beetle reveal an eyeball…?”

“Tsk, what are you talking about?” Zhou Mo asked.

Yan Zhichun shook her head. “Never mind. Zhou Mo, tell this ‘ant’ to stand by. I’ll create an opportunity soon.”

“Got it.” Zhou Mo nodded, then leaned down to relay the message.

The “ant” changed its tapping rhythm again, as if transmitting a second command to all the others.

Yan Zhichun moved aside, crouching behind another “ant” to conceal herself, then lowered her gaze to the ground.

Now was the time to focus. She had to understand how the “ants” worked and their intended direction of attack.

Black Sheep was already injured. Though he had struck the longhorn beetle, if things continued, it was uncertain who would die first. She didn’t know the longhorn beetle well enough—whether she would fight to the bitter end or prioritize self-preservation in a desperate situation.

As Yan Zhichun pondered, she noticed tiny bloodstains where her gaze fell.

She reached out, touching the droplets, and felt another piece of the puzzle click into place.

The “ants” were supposed to collect eyeballs—so why weren’t they moving yet?

Dozens of “Extremists” were gathered here, each with eyeballs. Why weren’t the “ants” attacking them?

Moreover, even with her long-term memory in the “Land of Finality,” she had never heard of “ants” harming people. Most “ants” even deliberately avoided light and crowds.

Meaning, while the “ants” sought “eyeballs,” they operated under a fundamental rule: they would never take the eyeballs of the living.

This rule had to exist. Otherwise, every time the “ants” emerged at night, they would target all eyeballs. Over time, the “Participants” would retaliate, and the “ants” would be slaughtered en masse—something that didn’t align with Qinglong’s intentions.

Qinglong only wanted this place to be a hopeless assembly line, where all things leading to despair happened systematically.

Thus, the “ants” were programmed to only take “unwanted” eyeballs.

“No… not entirely.” Yan Zhichun lifted her head, surveying the numerous “Extremist” corpses at the center of the square. The rule needed refinement—after all, the eyeballs of the dead also had no owners.

A more precise interpretation: “Ants will not take the natural eyeballs of humans.”

Whether it was “Tao” or the eyeballs transplanted onto the “Celestials,” they were essentially external objects—and those were the “ants'” true targets.

“So that means…” Yan Zhichun stared at the ground, her mind racing. “If the longhorn beetle won’t reveal herself, we need to throw someone else’s eyeball onto her—one that isn’t affected by ‘Concealment.'”

Though she had outlined the conditions, the execution was undeniably difficult, leaving her momentarily stumped.

In the distance, after their last clash, Black Sheep and the longhorn beetle had grown cautious. Black Sheep no longer taunted, instead warily scanning his surroundings, while the longhorn beetle had vanished again, maintaining her hidden state.

Yan Zhichun had a gut feeling—if they didn’t find a solution before the next clash, Black Sheep would lose. Even if he could counterattack, he wouldn’t be able to stand again.

“Only one chance. We need a dual approach…” She lifted her gaze to her remaining teammates. “Time for ‘Extremist’ cooperation…”

Then she paused, struck by a sudden thought.

This place wasn’t just filled with “Extremists.” There were also a few outsiders—besides Officer Li and Su Shan, there were Bai Jiu and Luo Shiyi.

“Zhou Mo!” Yan Zhichun called. “I’ll give you a few names. If they’re still alive, help me reach out to them.”