The newly revived Thunder Rat was dazed, but it quickly came to its senses this time. After a moment’s hesitation, it charged toward the giant insect as ordered.
Enraged by its prey vanishing twice right before its eyes, the insect spat out a stream of white mucus that spread like a web, wrapping the Thunder Rat instantly.
It lunged and tore the trapped creature to pieces with its sharp blades.
“Revive!”
“Keep attacking!”
Su Ping revived the Thunder Rat at once and sent it back into battle.
Time and again, the Thunder Rat died and returned. On the eighth attempt, as it charged and the insect spat its web-mucus, the rat’s body flickered—it vanished as if teleporting and reappeared several yards ahead!
**Thunder Flash!**
Su Ping’s eyes widened in shock.
It was **Thunder Flash**, one of the ten great secret skills of Lightning-type Star Pets!
Was he seeing things?
This mere Rank 1 Thunder Rat had mastered an unimaginably rare lightning secret skill?
Su Ping could barely believe it.
Even many high-level Rank 7 or 8 Lightning Star Pets failed to learn such a supreme secret skill!
This Thunder Rat had ordinary, even inferior aptitude. It could barely learn mid-tier lightning moves, let alone a secret skill.
Su Ping stared intently.
After the sudden burst of speed, the Thunder Rat closed in on the insect’s side. Spotting a perfect opening, it surged with thick lightning and rammed the soft flesh.
The insect crashed to the ground, its side scorched.
Yet it was not defeated. Agonized, it thrashed wildly, rose quickly, and lunged back even faster.
Exhausted from expending all its electricity, the Thunder Rat moved sluggishly. It was trapped and killed again.
“Revive,” Su Ping said swiftly.
The Thunder Rat reformed on the ground. No longer dazed, it seemed accustomed to the brief pain followed by full renewal.
At the sight of the wounded insect, it charged without waiting for orders, resuming the fight.
Attack. Injured. Die. Revive.
After a dozen cycles, the insect finally fell, defeated and resentful, under the unkillable rat.
Su Ping did not see Thunder Flash again for the rest of the battle. It had seemed a fleeting illusion.
He was disappointed, but hopeful: if it had appeared once, it would appear again.
With the insect dead, Su Ping relaxed. At least he would not be eaten and suffer that disgusting death.
“This place is dangerous, but the training effect is extraordinary.”
Su Ping looked at the Thunder Rat collapsed on the insect’s corpse. Its speed and strikes had grown sharper; it had even faked a move to ambush the insect.
The entire back-and-forth battle lasted barely ten minutes, yet the progress was incredible.
In three days, its power might truly explode.
Su Ping felt a flicker of hope—the mission was not impossible.
“Come on, little one,” Su Ping patted its head and stood, ready to hunt the next target.
*Tired.*
The Thunder Rat’s unwilling thought reached him.
Su Ping paused, then softened, understanding its ordeal.
“Let’s rest and recover first,” he said kindly.
The Thunder Rat glanced weakly from the insect’s back. Seeing Su Ping’s smiling face close by, it felt a strange dread.
Before it could react, sharp pain flared.
“Revive.”
Su Ping smiled at the Thunder Rat reformed on the ground. “Feeling better now?”
He had noticed during repeated revivals: the rat returned to peak condition every time, no fatigue remaining.
It was the fastest way to recover.
The Thunder Rat’s fur stood on end. That smile was burned into its mind.
*Squeak!*
It bared its teeth in warning.
Su Ping released the sharp insect claw he held—deadly enough to pierce the rat with a light squeeze.
“Be good. Let’s go.” He patted its head again.
The Thunder Rat ground its teeth. If not for the contract, it would have bitten its master to death.