Chapter 92: Calling for Help—Stay Away from Her (Part 1)

The mutated snake seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then, unbelievably, it actually turned around and slithered away, its movements stiff and sluggish.

Bian Changxi realized what was going on—it must have indigestion. Look at how slowly it’s crawling.

She was gasping for breath, barely hanging on. Darkness crept into her vision, and in her daze, she thought she heard Gu Xu’s voice. But she was just too tired, too cold, even her eyelids felt too heavy to lift.

It felt like she’d arrived somewhere warm and comfortable. A gentle breeze brushed her face, sunlight bathed her body, and she closed her eyes, letting herself drift into a deep, unrestrained sleep.

She didn’t know that, just a second after she lost consciousness, that “indigestion” snake had its head blown apart by a blazing fireball. Someone crashed headlong into the woods, spotting a figure collapsed on the ground. “Shadow! Shadow!”

A palm slapped down on the ice, releasing a wave of warm flames that wrapped around Shadow’s entire body. In just a few blinks, all the ice on him melted into water. Still frozen in a stiff posture, he was jolted awake by the warmth. Seeing the person before him, he croaked out, “C-captain… Bian… Bian…”

His tongue was numb and stiff.

Gu Xu glanced around, but only found three corpses—no sign of Bian Changxi. “Where’s Changxi? Where is she?”

Shadow’s eyes darted about as he struggled to prop himself up, but he found nothing either. “She was right here, just a moment ago…”

He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, so he couldn’t tell what had happened after. Suddenly, his gaze landed on the mutated snake, which hadn’t slithered far at all. Its headless body lay there, belly grotesquely swollen, the sight alone enough to make one sick.

Following his gaze, Gu Xu’s sharp, narrow eyes widened in shock.

“No…”

He shot to his feet so fast he nearly slipped. With his face and body smeared in dried black blood, he looked especially terrifying. Clutching Bian Changxi’s straight-bladed knife he’d picked up earlier, he froze for just a split second before charging up the slope in two strides, leaping to the mutated beast’s side. With one swing, he hacked off the remains of its head, and with another, he sliced open its belly.

Squelch!

A human-shaped mass, still discernible, tumbled out, coated in mucus. It was the captain of the Metal-Element SWAT team—but he was unmistakably, irretrievably dead.

Gu Xu’s hand started to tremble violently.

He didn’t know exactly what had happened. He didn’t know if Bian Changxi had been swallowed by the snake, but she shouldn’t have ended up in the snake’s stomach before this metal-element man.

He just stared, eyes wild and terrifying, at the next lump inside the snake’s belly.

By the time Qiu Feng arrived with the others, all he saw was Gu Xu, bloodily dissecting the snake. He glanced at Shadow, then at the other three corpses—Boss Zhang and the rest—then at the snake, instantly understanding. His eyes filled with disbelief.

He ordered someone to tend to Shadow, then rushed to Gu Xu’s side. By now, a second mass had rolled out of the snake’s belly—also vaguely human-shaped, but so corroded by stomach acid that only the bones hinted it was once a man.

Even Qiu Feng felt his stomach churn with nausea.

The others were even more stunned, speechless, some already retching violently.

“Ah Xu, stop—”

But Gu Xu seemed not to hear. He kept slicing, the blade opening a long gash in the snake’s hide, acidic fluids splattering onto him with a sizzle. The straight-bladed knife was already warping from the corrosion. Qiu Feng’s face changed dramatically—he lunged forward to stop him. “Enough! It’s not her! It can’t be her! Did you ask Shadow? What did he say?”

“Shadow was unconscious!”

“He vomited a lot of black blood!”

“His back is a mess!”

Chaos erupted around them. Qiu Feng saw Gu Xu staring at the various lumps of flesh, his eyes bloodshot, his expression cold and crazed, almost possessed. A chill ran through Qiu Feng’s heart. He dragged Gu Xu back several steps. “Calm down! Have you searched the whole forest? Why are you fixated on digging through a snake’s belly?!” He turned to the others, “What are you waiting for? Go look for her!”

He shook off Gu Xu and ran to Shadow.

While chaos reigned outside, Bian Changxi was sleeping soundly on damp earth.

She was on a farm, on its rich black soil.

Beside her was a coal-ball-shaped animal.

Lush baby bok choy and edamame seedlings swayed gently in the breeze, a picture of contentment. Suddenly, time seemed to freeze for a moment. Then, the crops lost their luster, withered rapidly, and turned to ash. The same happened to all the other plants.

In the blink of an eye, the pasture by the creek turned yellow and lifeless, as if all vitality had been stripped away.

The ducks playing in the simple pen, the hens dutifully brooding over their eggs, the rooster preening his colorful feathers—all fell silent, huddling on the ground, trembling. The fish and shrimp in the creek darted about in panic, then crowded together at the bottom.

If you looked from above, you’d see countless green threads stretching out, flowing toward Bian Changxi and the coal-ball creature, gradually wrapping them both in a gentle green glow, obscuring what was happening inside.

The surrounding mist drew in tighter, the farm shrinking, the sky lowering, until in the end, the whole world seemed to consist of just these two balls of green light, rising and falling in rhythm, as if breathing, pulsing with life.

……

…………

She hadn’t slept this well in ages.

Half-awake, Bian Changxi rolled over and stretched contentedly.

Wait—she could move? She had strength again?

She froze mid-stretch, eyes snapping open.

When did she get to the farm? Wait, was this really her farm? Why was it so small?!

She sat up with a start, arms spread wide. Oh no—the mist only extended about twice her arm span in each direction, and the blue sky overhead was so low it felt like it might collapse on her. The black soil beneath her was dry and shrunken. The creek should be over there, but now it was just a puddle the size of a water basin. The pasture beyond—well, it was just a palm-sized patch of yellow grass, peeking out shyly.

She was bewildered. Was this really her farm? Or had Shadow thrown up a few walls of mist around her?

She reached out and poked the mist. It bounced her hand back softly.

That feeling—it really was her farm. And right beside her was the simple chicken coop, chickens and ducks crammed together, staring at her in terror.

Bian Changxi rubbed her forehead, utterly confused.

“Wuu wuu…”

Something moved at her feet.

She looked down to see a tiny pink creature snuggled against her foot, rubbing its eyes with tiny paws, blinking sleepily.

It tilted its little head and stared at her for a moment, confusion turning to joy and excitement. With a yelp, it tried to pounce on her—

But then it froze, as if realizing something was terribly wrong. Slowly, it looked down—oh no, it was naked!

It let out a panicked wail, but its voice was weak and lacking confidence. In a flash, it darted to the side of the chicken coop.

Bian Changxi watched curiously. This little thing, not even the size of her palm—could it be… “Niunai?”

Why was it so tiny? Wasn’t it supposed to be basketball-sized?

She quickly checked herself—thank goodness, she wasn’t naked or shrunken.

She stood up and walked around. Behind her, shrouded in mist, was a wooden door. She opened it—it was the warehouse. Everything was there. The farm had shrunk, but the warehouse was untouched. Thank goodness.

So this really was her farm, no doubt about it.

But she remembered she hadn’t entered before passing out. Did the farm pull her in to save her life? Did it have that function?

She checked herself again. The serious injuries she’d had were now healed, though not fully recovered. Where she’d once felt empty inside, energy now flowed. She’d gone from near death to healthy, while the farm had shrunk. There had to be a connection.

Wait, the energy inside her…

She held her breath, sensing inward, and was thrilled to realize—she’d advanced to the next level!

Before she could savor it, the little “wuu wuu” sounds drew her attention back.

Right, she’d brought Niunai in before losing consciousness, so it must be here too. That little pink ball really was—

She crouched down. It was curled up by the chicken coop, poking its tiny head out dejectedly. When Bian Changxi leaned closer, it quickly ducked back in.

“Oh my, are you shy? Just because you lost all your fur?”

“Wuu wuu wuu…” It protested her teasing.

Bian Changxi waved her hand. “Okay, okay, I won’t laugh. I remember you got roasted pretty badly before, so your fur probably just fell off. It’ll grow back, right?” She wasn’t too sure.

But fur falls off, skin peels, yet how did its whole shape change so much? Not only was it shrunken, it didn’t even look like a mouse anymore. What animal did it resemble?

She thought and thought but couldn’t figure it out. Then again, it was a spirit beast—maybe it had multiple forms. That wasn’t so strange.

If she’d been wary of it before, after it helped her fight Liu Meng and refused to let go even when it got roasted, all her misgivings had vanished. Now she just felt grateful and fond.

So what if its origins were mysterious? It was willing to risk everything for her, and that was enough.

Sensing the warmth and affection in her gaze, Niunai’s tense little body relaxed. It whimpered pitifully, and when it accidentally brushed against a rough branch of the chicken coop, it left a bloody scratch.

“Oh no, you’re bleeding!” Bian Changxi hurried over to check. “Your new skin is way too delicate.”

She thought for a moment, then fetched a soft comforter from the warehouse, making a fluffy nest beside the chicken coop. She placed Niunai in it, then tried channeling a bit of energy through her fingertips, gently touching the scratch.

The bleeding stopped.

She looked at her fingers, eyes misting with relief. Her wood element was still intact—thank goodness.

In her previous life, she’d overexerted herself and damaged her abilities, leaving her stuck at level six, unable to progress. Right after her injury, she could barely use her powers at all—she’d felt useless.

She’d thought that even if she survived this time, she’d be left the same way. But not only had she survived, she’d advanced a level. It was a miracle.

Niunai burrowed into the comforter, the soft fluff covering most of its body, giving it a sense of security. It peeked out at her.

Bian Changxi smiled. “Are you hungry? I’ll get you something to eat. You’re not fully recovered yet, so eat and rest some more.”

She herself was starving, and still in pain. She needed to recover quickly. But now that she was at level two, healing herself and Niunai would be no problem. Soon, she’d have to check on the situation outside.

But first, she needed a bath.

She glanced at the “creek,” now just a water basin, and couldn’t help twitching her lips. Oh well, she’d take what she could get. If it was any smaller, she’d just have to stay dirty."