Clash Of Civilizations: I Really Don't Want To Destroy The Earth

Two days later, in the dark sewer.

At this moment, the Rat Clan had begun to take shape, with hundreds of rats performing their duties like tight cogs.

Or snatch the female mate from other mice to develop offspring, or feed the young mice, or cooperate with No. 1 to eat the wall to continuously expand the range of the resident...

The development tone of the Rat Clan has been set since Caesar plundered the first female rat to serve as a reproductive machine, cruel, xenophobic, efficient, cold, and above race.

As the protagonist, Caesar is still shaking his waist mechanically. He has lost a lot of weight compared to the beginning, and even mating needs the little blue pills that the mice pried from the pharmacy to maintain, but his Those mouse eyes became more and more calm, as if there were countless calculations hidden.

The mind is divided into two strands, one maintains the operation of the body, and the other continuously issues orders in the thinking network, and at the same time packages and organizes all the knowledge in the thinking network and passes it on to the newborn pups.

It was Caesar's "diligence" that caused the number of rats to soar to more than 900 in just over half a month, which was very close to Jiang Chen's mission goal.

When all the mice were busy, Caesar's more majestic and thick voice sounded again in the thinking network:

"The food inventory has reached a critical point. This time the target is mainly on milk powder, and the milk production of female mice is limited."

"Within half an hour, the predator team set off, this time led by No. 3."

"Follow orders~" No. 3's lazy voice echoed in the thinking network.

"Really, there are more and more cubs, and they will soon be overloaded. I don't know what the king can do. Forget it, anyway, these are not things I should consider. Just thinking about it gives me a headache, so I might as well sleep well. , move more this time."

No. 3 floated in mid-air and murmured weakly, while the 50 rats under him moved forward silently with neat steps, like the strictest army in the world.

In the same supermarket, 50 mice got out of the toilet again under the leadership of No. 3.

It was no different from the previous few times. They went to the baby area to carry milk powder on alert, but this time there was no No. 1. It took a lot of time for them to open the can, but the whole night was theirs, so there was no need to worry too much.

But when No. 3 was leisurely packing the milk powder, dozens of 'light bulbs' suddenly lit up in the darkness.

Feeling the trembling from the depths of his genes, No. 3 froze, and a wry smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

‘Sure enough, it’s better to stay in the lair and sleep. '

The next moment, the laziness in the mouse's eyes disappeared without a trace, and what was left was only mechanically cold and cruel.

"I order in the name of No. 3, everyone..."

"go to hell!"

The next moment, all the mice in the supermarket stopped what they were doing, without hesitation, reluctance, or attachment. The 50 voices in the thinking network synthesized a simple character:

"Yes, all for the great Rat Clan!"

After the words fell, all the Rat Clan fled in all directions.

Not running for their lives, but violating their genetic instincts, trembling and crawling in front of the big cats, roaring provocatively with a trembling voice.

As if provoked by this group of food that can be played with wantonly, there were screams of cats in the supermarket.

Thus, the slaughter began!

In fact, cats don’t need to eat mice, they can survive even eating other things, and they can live very well, but there is a special substance in the mouse’s body that attracts cats, just like the creator designed mice to be them same food.

Being hunted for tens of millions of years, the fear of cats has long been imprinted in the genes of mice. However, the concept of race has overcome the instinctive fear. All the rat tribes are using themselves as bait to lure the group of cats to give up. An invisible path that allows #3 to escape.

Not for anything else, just because number 3 has deeper intelligence and better genes than them, and the offspring have a high chance of awakening their talents.

In other words, No. 3 is worth more than all of them combined.

Listening to the mournful cries of the same people behind him before they died, No. 3 didn't pause at all, didn't even look back, just kept running, running, running!

Until he was crushed by a pear cat that jumped from the cabinet and tore off his forelimbs...

'I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm definitely going to die...'

Feeling the irresistible force on his body, as well as the sharp claws that have penetrated into the flesh, No. 3 inevitably thought so.

But thinking about it, the desire to survive in his eyes has not diminished in the slightest, and even burned even more vigorously.

"I can't die. 50 work rats have already died. It would be too bad for me to die again. My value has not been drained. How can I die if I haven't made my due contribution to the rat clan!"

Accompanied by the belief that has been engraved deep in his heart since birth, No. 3's thought power is boiling, swimming in the invisible air like a long snake, and then advancing towards the brain along the cihuamao's nose.

As a person with mind ability, No. 3 has never thought of smashing objects hard, that is the crudest way to use it, and it is the most efficient to directly disintegrate the enemy from the inside.

The idea is very good, but it's a pity that No. 3 has overlooked a crucial point, that is, other creatures also have spiritual power, but they are only bound in the brain.

To put it bluntly, his mental power is just a variant of mental power, and the direct factor that determines the strength of mental power is the size of the brain.

It would be fine if No. 3's target was the cat's other organs, but he chose the brain, so...

The thought ability that penetrated the cat's nostrils and went straight to the brain only penetrated a few centimeters, and was defeated by the unconscious mental power in the cat's brain. The whole process can be said to be an egg hitting a stone.

With the powerless thoughts dissipating into the air, No. 3's brain went blank for an instant, losing all consciousness like a vegetable.

When consciousness came back, No. 3 found himself surrounded by a dozen cats.

As for those of his kind?

Look at the blood-stained stumps scattered around, and the blood stains around the cat's mouth.

A dead end, a complete dead end!

No. 3 understands that the reason why he is still alive is only because of the nature of cats. For them who are already full, they are just a living toy. When they get tired of playing with them, their life will come to an end.

Despair, unparalleled despair, the abyss of despair where you can't even feel the pain!

The fur was torn apart, the ears were gnawed, the tail was pulled off, the bones were trampled to pieces, and in the end, several cats grabbed various parts of the body and suspended them in mid-air like a corpse divided by five horses.

Accompanied by the tearing pain, No. 3's extremely weak voice sounded in the thinking network:

"Since you want this useless skin, let me give it to you..."

Thought power may tear other people's bodies apart, but what about tearing yourself?

Number 3 is quite easy to use.

Like a hot knife cutting butter, there was almost no hindrance. The moment the No. 3 thought rose, all the body parts held by the cat were separated from the main body.

The dripping blood splattered in all directions, and then was brought back by the power of thought, forming a crude circulation on the surface of the body, barely maintaining the life of No. 3.

No. 3 got out of Maokou as he wished, but the price was astonishingly high.

Fur, ears, hind limbs, left forelimb, tail, all disappeared without a trace.

For No. 3, peeling and cramping is no longer an adjective. Now he is not so much a mouse, but a mosaic of meat.

The brain was boiling, the muscles were trembling, and the pain beyond the limit of the body made No. 3 uncontrollably let out a mournful neighing.

Just before he fell into a coma, he squeezed his own potential again, dragging himself into the toilet with his thoughts and disappearing into the toilet.

Leaving a group of frightened cats alone...

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