Chapter 79: Will you cry?

Will you cry?

Thump thump thump.

Lan'an sat on the opened-up space, his blue long tail hanging down smoothly,

He lowered his head, looking at the hand where the Sentinel and the girl clasped, and displeasedly licked his sharp teeth.

The Sentinel after the hunt could not hide his aggressiveness; his long eyebrows were lowered, making the corners of his eyes lift, and within his narrow, elongated eyes, his gaze like a laser fixed on Xiguang's hand.

Inside the space, Xiguang, sitting opposite the girl, calmly lifted his gaze upward; the merfolk's eyes, ferociously wishing to turn into a bone‑scraping knife, scraped his flesh away.

His pale gold eyes withdrew, his voice soothing as he gazed at the girl and said, "If you need anything next time, I can come."

"Next time, for sure."

At the top of the space, another burst of urgent knocking sounded; Fu Guang half‑raised his head, Lan'an curled up, and the finger bones about to drop paused.

Sharp, pale blue ear fins protruded from the merfolk's hanging black hair; he lowered his head, his gaze fixed unblinking on the girl's slender neck as she lifted her head, his Adam's apple rolling.

No matter the animal, the neck is a fatal weak point; the delicate, translucent neck made his killing urge boil over uncontrollably.

Accompanying the rising killing urge were some indescribable subtle fluctuations, making him feel a little thirsty.

His gaze darkened; clearly he had just drunk plenty of blood, so why did he feel this way?

He didn't dare to act recklessly; his life wasn't that important to him, the key was that Fu Guang might very well abandon him.

He had this intuition.

Watching the merfolk withdraw his gaze, Fu Guang did not sheath the dagger back to its original place but instead tucked it into his sleeve.

As long as she let her hand hang, the dagger would slip down to the position in her hand.

The military's specially made dagger—perhaps that day, Fu Guang's gaze toward the dagger was too scorching, so Lishao found a brand‑new dagger, treating it as a housewarming gift and gave it to Fu Guang.

Fu Guang was certainly not polite; she never complained about having too many weapons.

Above his head, the merfolk's voice sang out, "Master."

"Let's go." When taking out the two B‑grade energy stones, only a quarter remained; even a mosquito, tiny as it is, is still meat.

Fu Guang used a specially made tweezer to pick out the energy stones smaller than her palm from the energy incinerator.

The two left the space; in the moment waiting for the space to collapse, the Sentinel standing beside her had some faint mental fluctuations.

Probably nothing happened just now; Fu Guang looked doubtfully at the silver‑haired Sentinel.

The familiar icy‑cold big tail coiled around her, and Lan'an's lazy voice rang from above her head: "Xiguang, if you can't give the guide good resources, you might as well step down and let someone worthy take over."

His words were full of the smell of gunpowder, as if Sentinels rarely manage to communicate properly.

Inside the villa, what one hears most is, "Come on, let's fight."

"Let's go."

Either one person says, "Let's spar a bit," while the other stays silent and just walks away.

"Or wait until we go out and you two fight." Fu Guang doesn't mind her subordinates having a fighting spirit; it's the lifeless lethargy that's scary.

But it depends on the timing—no one is allowed to drag her down!

She added fuel to the fire, which instead calmed Lan'an down.

In the relationship between guide and Sentinel, letting the guarding Sentinel fight the other Sentinels, giving something to the other side, can be a hidden meaning of becoming the guarding Sentinel.

Of course, unless the strength gap is huge, whether the guarding Sentinel wins or loses this match is entirely up to the guide's decision.

The guide will tell the guarding Sentinel whether it is a watered‑down qualification test for the next guarding Sentinel, or a complete rejection of the Sentinel's earnest fight.

Xiguang's mental fluctuations actually grew larger upon hearing that, his face showing nothing; with Fu Guang's sensitivity, she of course knew perhaps her earlier words might have been ambiguous.

But she didn't want to delve deeper, and no one voiced objections, so presumably there was nothing special about it.

The Sentinels' strength recovered quickly; now each has regained half of their power, and it's unclear how many sea beasts they've ho hoed.

Otherwise, she has a concept that would clarify the energy conversion rate of heavily wounded Sentinels.

It's the old habit of the apothecary: when a new species appears, he wants to understand it thoroughly from head to toe.

And the Sentinel is the new species in her eyes, but now he is in human society, burdened with heavy laws; Fu Guang withdrew herself, pulling back the magical hand reaching toward the Sentinel.

And all the Sentinel's traits are actually tied to his own strength; everyone keeps these sensitive data sealed.

Even among life‑and‑death comrades, they keep some leeway and never reveal their weaknesses to each other.

"Let's go, go seek the flavor of the sea."

"The flavor of the sea is at the sea bottom, where the big pit on the map is." Lan'an instantly gave the location of the sea's flavor.

"What's wrong?" Lan'an alternated between looking at Fu Guang and looking away, seeming somewhat torn.

"The water pressure in the sea pit is no less than that of the Heavenly Pillar."

Fu Guang helplessly rubbed her forehead; feeling insufficient strength and restricted everywhere, she experienced this sensation again.

Her mind raced through the pharmaceutical knowledge she had learned.

What kind of medicine can withstand the water pressure without hindering her movements? The merfolk's physique is excellent; being naturally deep‑sea dwellers, adult merfolk experience sea pressure as if it were thick air.

Fu Guang lifted the merfolk silk fluttering beside the fish tail, feeling like water—soft and airy.

A medicinal preparation suddenly flashed through her mind; it could indeed satisfy the water‑pressure problem and also solve her need to breathe.

Metamorphosis Pill: within six hours it can transform into another race, inheriting the contributor's crafting of medicines, human physique and ability.

However, in this case the user cannot exert any strength at all, because it is very likely to break the effect of the Metamorphosis Pill.

After the Metamorphosis Pill wears off, the greater the gap between the user and the pill's contributor, the more severe the weakness—requiring several months of bed rest—but this is merely a physical issue, not hindering the use of mental power.

Now, Lan'an needs to contribute something.

She looked at the merfolk; the merfolk can also weave silk, but it's unknown whether this merfolk, who had no elders teaching him from birth, possesses this skill.

Lan'an seemed to sense something; the girl's gaze toward him was not friendly.

"Lan'an, will you cry?" the girl's voice sounded like heavenly music, yet the content bore no resemblance to her voice at all.

Lan'an's tail stiffened, as if he couldn't believe what he had heard.

"I said, will you cry?" Fu Guang repeated her words again, her blue eyes spinning, thinking it would be easier to directly control his tear glands.

Lan'an saw Fu Guang's increasingly dangerous gaze, he instinctively asked, "Do you want tears?"

"Yes." Fu Guang nodded, letting Lan'an's vaguely suspended heart settle back into place.

"I still need Star Years, Flowing Sand, He's Dream Grass..." Fu Guang instantly listed a string of herbs, making Lan'an's eyes swim.

"Do these herbs really exist underwater? What are they?"

Looking at the Sentinel's expression, Fu Guang took out the medicinal herbs from her space; fortunately she had a supply of the common ones there.

She handed the specimen plant to Lan'an for him to view, then carefully put it away.

Fu Guang was a bit impatient, removing some of the less important herbs.

This would make using the potion very painful, but she couldn't wait to go to the sea trench.

Her temples throbbed, her head slightly ached, and she always felt the seabed was too quiet.