SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 60: Nothing more then that

"Sleeper cells..."

Ricky muttered, a cold glint flashing through the many-faceted lenses of his compound eyes. The whisper echoed faintly in the vast, dimly lit chamber, swallowed quickly by the surrounding silence.

As if provoked by his presence, the Aegis ants shrieked in unison. Their spiritual fields surged in agitation, launching wave after wave of invisible force towards Ricky. But each assault met an equally invisible barrier—a shimmer in the air—before fizzling out like raindrops on iron. Ricky didn’t flinch. He felt nothing. Their rage was impotent.

They were nothing more than pests flailing on the chopping block.

From Ricky’s sleek carapace, a thick, tar-like smoke began to ooze, rising slowly before curling outward into the massive hall. The substance was eerie—sluggish in motion, yet filled with sinister intent. Ricky observed quietly, his wings twitching slightly in anticipation.

Would the hall’s protective barrier react? Would it halt the encroaching fog?

His breath hitched for a moment, but then the shimmering dome that shielded the area pulsed gently—then vanished. It had deemed the black smoke harmless.

And it wasn’t entirely wrong. Not yet.

"Hehehe... but not for long," Ricky snickered inwardly, a low hum vibrating through his thorax.

He remained perfectly still, his presence like that of a god silently watching mortals beneath him. The dark mist expanded steadily, sluggish yet inevitable, like ink bleeding through parchment. In just over an hour, the entire chamber was filled with a thick, choking fog. Visibility dropped to near zero. The oppressive weight of the smoke clung to everything.

This was nothing to Ricky. He had once tried to saturate the entire Thousand Emerald Green Forest with Sleeper Cells. Compared to that endeavor, this hall was but a teacup.

The moment the poison fully saturated the space, hundreds of spiritual fields flared in alarm. One after another, the ants activated their defensive mechanisms, their spiritual essence blazing to life like flickering stars beneath the haze.

But their efforts were laughable.

The poison’s effect was subtle, slow, and insidious. It seeped into the tiniest of gaps, eating away at the defenses from within. Inch by inch, the Sleeper Cells began their silent conquest.

Ricky’s gaze remained icy as he observed their struggle. The ants were valiant, erupting with waves of spiritual might in retaliation. The Aegis crowns atop their heads glowed brilliantly as they launched spiritual attacks to repel the fog.

But it was futile.

The black smoke split like water, avoiding direct impact, then reformed with a sluggish, malicious consistency.

"Hehehe, struggle, struggle all you want..." he hissed, mandibles twitching with cruel amusement.

But then, a strange thought pierced through his wicked satisfaction.

"Am I... enjoying their suffering?"

The amusement drained from his face. Silence returned to his heart, heavy and still.

That wasn’t who he wanted to be. He had no desire to become a saint, but neither did he wish to turn into a mindless butcher reveling in pain. He was a monster—yes—but a monster with principles.

As he steadied his mind and buried the flicker of doubt, the ants collectively shifted.

As if realizing something very important.

They had stopped targeting the fog. They had turned their attention to him, an innocent mosquito.

A sudden, unified bloodlust filled the chamber. Hundreds of pairs of glittering, malevolent eyes locked onto Ricky’s hovering figure. A shiver ran down his back—not out of fear, but instinct. The sheer focus of so many creatures left a trace of unease.

From their backs, the armored carapaces began to glow. A moment later, thousands of razor-sharp spiritual scales launched into the air, howling as they carved through the fog, homing in on Ricky like a storm of celestial daggers.

They streaked through the air like miniature meteorites, burning with lethal intent.

Ricky’s spiritual arrays flared to life around him in anticipation.

Then—

BOOOOOOM!

A tremendous explosion shattered the silence. Shockwaves burst out, shaking the very foundation of the hall. The impact was immense, almost enough to tear the chamber apart.

But within the heart of the storm, Ricky remained untouched. The barrier shielding him held firm—unbreakable and serene amidst the chaos. He didn’t even feel the wind.

"Alright..." he grinned. This display of power only confirmed the ants’ futility.

Don’t be angry, little ants. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.

But they weren’t finished.

A second volley followed, even more devastating. Blades of spiritual force tore through the air, filled with hatred and desperation.

Yet none reached him. None even scratched the air near him.

Meanwhile, hidden beneath the chaos, the Sleeper Cells slipped deeper into their bodies.

One by one, they infiltrated nerves, organs, and minds. In another five hours, the infection was complete. The poison now lay in every corner of their being—silent, patient, coiled like a serpent waiting to strike.

Ricky’s eyes gleamed.

It was time.

"Multiply. Grow. Conquer."

His voice was low, almost reverent.

The poison responded.

A sudden acceleration swept through the ants. The Sleeper Cells flared to life, spreading uncontrollably. Like wildfire, they surged through spiritual meridians, hijacking cells and enslaving flesh.

The results were immediate. The ants began to falter. Their limbs twitched unnaturally. Their once-furious movements turned sluggish. Their glowing eyes dimmed. Soon, they were dragging themselves across the ground like broken machines.

Ricky’s proboscis straightened, gleaming like a needle of divine judgment.

It was time to harvest.

His crystalline wings flared, catching a nonexistent breeze as he soared into the air.

The shimmering barrier reacted but didn’t resist. Ricky passed through with ease.

His gaze narrowed.

So the barrier only trapped the ants. How specific. How curious.

He filed the thought away for later.

Without pause, Ricky descended upon the nearest ant. With a single decisive motion, his proboscis pierced its thick hide.

There was resistance—brief, insignificant.

Then—ecstasy.

Notifications exploded across his vision:

[56 days of lifespan absorbed.]

[78 days of lifespan absorbed.]

...

He didn’t stop. One ant, then another, then another.

By the time he moved on, the number had reached over three hundred years.

And Ricky was just getting started.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦