Chapter 5: The Scavenger Squad

The power of a dying flare is formidable.

Ren Zhong managed to open his eyes, wide and alert, carefully scrutinizing the five dark figures who had just arrived.

In the remnants of dusk, two women and three men stood in a loose circle, observing him with keen interest.

The woman who had spoken earlier was petite, her figure delicate and compact, her face as sweet as a doll's, framed by a short bob that stopped at her ears. She wore form-fitting black leather clothes, a long, jet-black rifle slung across her back, and a large-caliber revolver holstered on each hip.

Beside her stood a slightly taller woman, about one meter seventy, with graceful curves and a poised bearing. Her long hair was tied in a ponytail behind her head, her features fine and clear, though her expression was cold and distant. She wore a light blue work suit, a backpack over her shoulders, and a short dagger, the length of her forearm, hung from her belt.

Of the three men, one was burly and broad-shouldered, his body sheathed in a full suit of armor of impressive craftsmanship, only his thick eyebrows and large eyes visible beneath the raised visor of his helmet.

Another man was of average height, with a sharp, narrow face and small eyes, a blue baseball cap on his head. He wore an electrician's uniform under a leather vest bristling with pockets, his trousers similarly bulging with six stuffed pockets, and a messenger bag hung at his waist.

The last man was utterly unremarkable in both looks and stature, clad in a sleeveless vest. Yet his arms were bizarre, nearly reaching his knees when he let them hang. Black scales covered his forearms, his large hands had only four fingers—three in front and one in back. The backs of his fingers were armored like crab claws, with long, metallic, glinting nails, sharp as daggers.

Those were not human hands!

Seeing this, Ren Zhong's heart quaked, but he forced himself to remain calm, even attempting to greet them.

He failed.

Opening his eyes was already the limit of his strength.

He could only take advantage of the doll-faced woman glancing his way to blink energetically, signaling that there was still a living person here.

But she seemed not to notice at all.

"This Crystalwing Dragonfly hasn’t been dead long; the chip is still good," the doll-faced woman said, raising her right hand to glance at her wristwatch. "Hanyu, be quick and salvage the chip. We've got twenty-five minutes until dark. The hovercar’s top speed is three hundred kilometers an hour, and we’ll have to detour to avoid a Class Two Ruin Beast. Twenty-two minutes is the most we can spare for the journey. We must return to Spark Town before nightfall—three minutes from now, we leave, no exceptions."

The taller woman nodded slightly, shrugged off her backpack and set it flat on the ground. She unzipped it, drew out a pair of gloves that shimmered with a blue radiance, slipped them on, and walked over to the dragonfly.

She extended her hands, palms aimed at the battered head of the Crystalwing Dragonfly. Ten slender beams of orange-red light shot from her fingertips, striking the insect’s head.

The beams flickered and danced, and soon the creature’s eyes and the chitinous shell covering its head began to peel away like an eggshell.

The tall woman’s expression was intensely focused.

It was clear she was performing delicate work.

“Captain Zheng Tian, this man looks nearly dead. Are we going to save him or not?” the long-armed man finally deigned to look down at Ren Zhong, speaking in a gruff tone.

Ren Zhong’s heart leapt into his throat.

Good! The main event is here!

The doll-faced woman clasped her hands behind her back and strode leisurely over, squatting in front of Ren Zhong.

Seizing the chance, Ren Zhong gazed at her with all the longing he could muster.

His eyes spoke volumes.

They begged: Save me! Please save me!

He had died too many times—he’d had enough.

He craved to live, just once.

Meeting her gaze, Ren Zhong recalled a line from a sacred text he’d once read.

A sage surnamed Lu once said: If a pair of strangers of opposite genders can hold eye contact for more than five seconds upon first meeting, that is love.

Yet, it did not even last five seconds. After just one point three seconds, the doll-faced woman—Zheng Tian—let her gaze drift downward, examining Ren Zhong and frowning slightly. “Strange, his wounds aren’t severe, but he feels deathly.”

The armored man stomped over. “He’s got no gear, not even a trace of energy signature. He’s about as weak as ordinary people come, but still managed to take down a mature Class One Ruin Beast. That’s impressive. Shame he’s going to die like this.”

Ren Zhong silently gave the man a thumbs-up in his mind. Well said!

Zheng Tian said, “Yeah, it’s rare. Interesting.”

“But he doesn’t have a watch. If we take him and run into a hunter, he’ll be trouble. Plus, the town’s slots for wastelanders are already full. Even if we bring him back, he’ll just die after a few months. I don’t think it’s worth saving him. Let him be,” interjected the sharp-faced man in the baseball cap, catching Ren Zhong off-guard with a fatal blow just as hope had begun to flicker in his heart.

That was it.

Ren Zhong: Damn it! I curse your ancestors to the eighth generation!

The tall woman took only two and a half minutes to extract a fingernail-sized object from the dragonfly’s head, which resembled a 21st-century silicon chip.

She carefully placed the chip into a compartmentalized case, then called out, “Let’s go.”

No matter how desperately Ren Zhong pleaded with his eyes, the group simply waved their sleeves and left without a backward glance, as if the man lying there awaiting death was no more than a stray mutt.

...

The night was as cold and deep as water.

Ren Zhong lay alone at the bottom of the ravine.

The stone slab beside him had been pried up, the Crystalwing Dragonfly’s corpse was gone.

Ren Zhong felt colder and colder, his consciousness growing heavier, eyelids fluttering without volition.

He was dying.

He was unwilling.

He hadn’t expected his death sentence to be pronounced so easily.

It went against everything he believed in.

When an old woman fell in the road, even if no one was watching and you were too afraid to help her up, at least you could call the police, right?

To just walk away and leave her—what kind of person does that?

Were they still human?

Or had this world drifted so far from his homeland’s ways that people’s hearts had changed?

Newly arrived, Ren Zhong had only just brushed against the civilization of this unfamiliar planet, and already he was cast out once more.

He had just been taught a vivid lesson.

Game over.

...

“You’re Zheng Tian, right? Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Bathed in a mist of ethereal aura, Ren Zhong sat upright on a stone, a confident and enigmatic smile upon his face as he addressed the five people gazing at him in confusion.

Beneath him, the Crystalwing Dragonfly lay thoroughly dead.

This time, he had perfected every detail of the battle, not suffering a single blow from start to finish—only a bit of dust and mud stained his clothes.

“Who are you?” Zheng Tian stood with hands on hips, leaning in, her big eyes blinking in curiosity. “How do you know my name?”

The others looked just as bewildered, each one lost in confusion.