The more Rex observed, the stranger it seemed. First, scorpions didn't mate during this season. Second, they had abandoned their golden eggs in the hot spring, left to drift aimlessly. Third, their exoskeletons were pristine—far more beautiful than ordinary scorpions, gleaming without a single scratch. Come mating season, male scorpions had to defeat rivals to win mates, so every venomous scorpion should be covered in battle scars. You could read their combat record from their wounds. Were these two softlings?

  He shook his head, thinking, Even if they are pushovers, I can't make a move. They're massive—scary enough to kill a man from fright alone.

  After watching longer, he made another discovery. The male scorpion was using its pincers to pick fruit from the rocks and feed itself.

  "Tsk, eating while cuddling your mate. Now that's a true hero!"

  Rex muttered sarcastically, then surveyed the terrain. Not bad, especially the dirt hollow behind him—perfect for planting that precious medicinal specimen.

  Its single green leaf was curled tight. He'd used one leaf treating internal injuries from leaping over the gerbil nest, and another he'd slipped into his shoe for safekeeping. So this lonely survivor was all that remained to represent the plant's dignity.

  He dug a hole with his dagger, stuffed the hairy, thorn-covered root system inside, and hurriedly fertilized it, pouring a circle of high-energy nutrient solution. He stared hard, left and right—nothing. No change at all. If anything, it looked even more wilted.

  Probably won't show results this fast. If it survives, I can harvest medicinal leaves regularly. The mushroom gatherers back home will have extra protection. If Mom had taken a few leaves back then, maybe...

  A shadow fell across his heart. Everyone was struggling. He hadn't bought this plant for himself. Submitting premium mycelium at the village chief's buying price—forty-five kilograms wouldn't clear his debts. Mom always said, A drop of kindness deserves a fountain of gratitude. That's why he'd risked everything to make private deals with Brax. For the uncles and aunts who'd helped during hard times, he never forgot—repaying them double or triple. Yet it never felt enough. Shipwreck Village's medical conditions were terrible. This plant was hope.

  BOOM.

  The earth shook. Panicked, Rex flattened himself against the ground, ears ringing. What was happening?

  Then came another deafening series of explosions, before silence finally returned.

  He rose slowly, gazing into the distance. Nothing visible through the dust—only that the thunder had come from the hot spring's direction.

  Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack...

  The male scorpion passed nearby, massive pincers gripping the female. From her wounds, she'd never stood a chance.

  Rex's heart hammered. He forced himself to hold his breath, frozen like a stone carving. The air reeked of sharp, metallic blood—the female's ichor splattered everywhere, masking any unfamiliar scent perfectly.

  Forty seconds felt like half a century. When the male vanished, Rex collapsed, drenched in cold sweat, vaguely recalling old rumors.

  Village elders spoke of a terrifying Scorpion King at the top of the underworld food chain—fiercely territorial, treating ordinary venomous scorpions as mere snacks.

  The Scorpion King species was practically another creature entirely. Their mating cycles spanned decades. During mating, to replenish energy, they ruthlessly killed the female before she finished laying eggs. After hatching, only three female offspring were permitted in their territory—the rest were slaughtered. Next mating, they only bred with the strongest female, devouring the other two.

  Selfish beyond measure. Only at life's end did they allow male offspring to exist. He'd heard these as childhood stories, never taking them seriously. Yet today, he'd actually encountered a Scorpion King.

  His heart pounded with lingering fear. Perhaps he'd only secured premium mycelium because he'd stumbled into its mating season. Freshly mated scorpions were at their laziest—that's how he'd survived. Next time, there'd be no such luck. He had to leave fast.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  Steadying himself, inspiration struck: Wait. The Scorpion King needs rest to recover. If I destroy all the eggs, won't that end its bloodline? No human has ever entered here, so its guard is down. I should check the hot spring first.

  Rex had always been bold. Once the dust settled, he crept toward the spring.

  Examination sent his heart racing with joy. The Scorpion King's mating feast was honey-spore mushrooms—the village chief had boasted endlessly about eating them in his youth, describing them in vivid detail. Rex remembered every word.

  Over a hundred honey-spore mushrooms littered the rocks, each fist-sized, surprisingly light. He popped one into his mouth—sweet, melting instantly.

  No wonder they say fortune favors the brave. If I'd run scared, I'd have missed this delicacy.

  He carefully collected the mushrooms, stripped, and slipped into the hot spring. His diving light's seal held; it worked underwater. Rock surfaces were covered with clusters of scorpion eggs, like grapes cultivated in oasis greenhouses—golden, exquisite in appearance.

  Scorpion eggs had many uses: antidote ingredients, rich in active proteins, their trace elements even helped prevent miscarriage. But ordinary eggs were gray, some white—he'd never seen golden ones before.

  Ah, forget it. Taking them all. Next time I see Chairman Brax, maybe I can get a good price.

  Rex produced a canvas bundle from his clothes like a magic trick, filling it in moments. Returning to where he'd planted the medicinal specimen, he laughed bitterly. He hadn't known this was the Scorpion King's territory, had simply planted near water. Now he had to dig it up again. Since he wasn't returning anyway, the extra trouble didn't matter.

  He cut out the entire soil block with his dagger, rolled it into the bundle, and slipped stylishly into a rock crevice, heading back to camp.

  Spotting his tent from afar, he crouched and observed carefully, circled once, confirmed his markers remained undisturbed—then relaxed.

  Hours of ordeal, filled with dangers. Rubbing his stomach, hunger struck fiercely. He devoured all his remaining food, still unsatisfied, eyeing the honey-spore mushrooms.

  Rex reached out, then froze. The canvas bundle holding the eggs had shrunk dramatically, while the medicinal plant was growing like mad, bursting with vitality.

  Opening the bundle, he gasped. "Mother of—what the hell? Is this thing a scorpion egg terminator?"

  The plant's root system had extended countless hair-thorns, piercing the eggs. The entire bag of eggs had become paste, mixing with soil into a grotesque "bonsai."

  Wait... did the eggs react with leftover nutrient solution? Accidentally creating some super-fertilizer?

  Rex's mind reeled. Recently, luck had turned—happiness within reach. Excitement and joy flooded him as the plant sprouted tender new leaves, growing, growing, reaching a meter tall in moments.

  The emerald leaves flourished beautifully—then Rex's face fell. The plant began withering, medicinal leaves decaying rapidly.

  No, how can this be? Damn it!

  He lunged forward, desperate to stop the decay. The egg-nutrient mixture had miraculous effects, but too much of a good thing—the plant couldn't handle such concentrated nourishment.

  He struggled helplessly. Wiping sweat, Rex sighed. "False alarm. Six thousand credits, gone. At least I grabbed some medicinal leaves."

  Counting: eight leaves remained, plus the one in his shoe—nine total. He'd forgotten to ask about shelf life. If he used all nine within a year, that meant ten serious injuries. Bad luck. He hid the nine leaves carefully—top-tier treasures, life-saving for himself or others. No carelessness allowed.

  After so many surprises, Rex couldn't tell if he was lucky or cursed. Fortunately, his nerves were tough. Eating several honey-spore mushrooms, he put the disappointment behind him.

  He studied his map carefully. Maps were crucial for every mushroom-gathering family. Wild mycelium grew scarce; competition was fierce. After centuries of exploration, each family held different territory knowledge. Some families even used map portions as dowry—common in Shipwreck Village.

  Not good. Looks like I have to head north. Leave the tent as a decoy. Trade remaining energy cells for supplies once I'm out. After this, I can't stay in the village. Need to visit surrounding oases. Honey-spore mushrooms are worth as much as premium mycelium—maybe I can get a hoverboard for transport. Do some trading, life should improve. Never considered joining the merchant guild—merchants backstab each other constantly. If I'm doing this, I'm doing it alone.

  If not forced, Rex wouldn't leave Shipwreck Village. It was home, where he was born and raised. Beyond the nearby caverns, he'd been nowhere. His knowledge of the outside world came from aerial photos stored on his light-brain. He'd planned to venture out after coming of age, but circumstances had accelerated that timeline.

  Three hours later, he prepared to depart. Reaching the entrance, he heard distant commotion.

  "You little brat, running this far. Scanned his exact position yet? We lost nearly a third of our men. And this broken device works when it feels like it. When we get back, I'm telling Grandpa to settle accounts with Brax."

  "Don't worry, young master. We've been tracking him. Can't be wrong."

  "Hmph. What is this place? Not marked on any map."

  Rex retreated. The chief was serious this time—that voice belonged to the chief's youngest grandson, Shipwreck Village's local tyrant. Under ten and already harassing girls, he'd bullied Rex constantly. Escaping wouldn't be hard—the enemy was unfamiliar with the terrain. That was his advantage.

  He hid silently. Ten minutes later, distant sand and stones flew as the Scorpion King waved its massive limbs, roaring fury.

  ROAR.

  These creatures had stolen its eggs. Kill...