Chapter 16: Shadows of the Black Scorpion, Venomous Fangs Unsheathed

The warning from the scavenger Anvil hung like cold embers, smoldering in the silence of Hope Outpost. The dust from the Mad Dog squad’s defeat had not yet settled when a deeper shadow already descended. Ellie leaned against the reinforced barricade, her left hand wrapped in a blood-soaked cloth, her face as pale as paper; every breath pulled at searing pain, yet her icy gaze remained sharp, fixed on the ruins to the east—the direction from which the “Black Scorpion” might strike.

Lin Mo forced himself to ignore the massive combat gap caused by Ellie’s severe injury and the fear gnawing at his heart. He had to move! The workshop! Repair the short crossbow! This was their only hope now!

He soaked the relatively clean cloth strips collected by Lingna in precious clean water, carefully replacing Ellie’s bandages to minimize infection risk. Lingna silently applied the last of the wood ash to the edges of Ellie’s hand wound (the only “anti-inflammatory” method she could think of). Seeing Ellie’s hand nearly shredded, Lingna’s tears swelled in her eyes.

“Workshop,” Ellie’s voice, hoarse from pain, was unnervingly clear; her gaze fixed on the crooked metal frame. “The crossbow… must be fixed.”

Lin Mo nodded firmly. He immediately lunged for the crude workbench. Ellie’s short crossbow was exquisitely crafted, its bow arms forged from a strange metal with faint blue veins, its trigger mechanism even more complex. He had no professional tools—only a rusty knife, a pry bar, a screwdriver, and a pair of hands trembling with tension.

He took a deep breath, recalling the fragmented structural details he’d observed when Ellie disassembled and maintained it, and began carefully dismantling the bow’s stock. Every motion was cautious, terrified of damaging this sole ranged weapon. Lingna watched nervously beside him, handing him the small screws she found.

Time slipped away amid the clinking of metal and strained breaths. Lin Mo removed the twisted, deformed bowstring and attempted to repair the slightly warped trigger latch. Sweat soaked his back; progress was agonizingly slow.

Outside the depression, the wind moaned; the shadows of the ruins seemed to writhe silently. Lingna kept watch, clutching the last remaining spare light crossbow—already nocked and drawn—that Ellie had given her. Her small face was taut, her large eyes scanning restlessly around, especially to the east.

Suddenly, Lingna’s nose twitched slightly. “Brother Lin Mo… there’s… there’s a weird smell…”

Lin Mo froze his work and sniffed hard. Besides the smells of rust, blood, and wood ash, there seemed to be… a faint, cloying, suffocating odor? Like rotting fruit mixed with some chemical agent?

“No good!” Ellie’s eyes snapped open, her gaze instantly sharpening to lethal intensity. “Hold your breath! It’s poison gas! The Black Scorpion’s ‘Sweet Dream’!” Her voice carried unprecedented urgency!

Almost as Ellie warned, a few thin tendrils of pale yellow-green smoke—nearly indistinguishable from the dusk—began creeping silently along the ground near the thorny fence on the depression’s eastern side, alive and deliberate. Slow, yet lethally precise.

The Black Scorpion! They had come—and struck with their most insidious weapon: poison gas!

Lin Mo’s scalp erupted in ice. He tore off a strip of his shirt to cover his nose and mouth—but it was too late. The cloying scent had already seeped into his nostrils; a wave of violent dizziness surged through him, the world spinning before his eyes. Lingna’s face turned deathly pale, her body swaying, the light crossbow nearly slipping from her grasp.

Ellie struggled to rise, but her injuries and blood loss slowed her movements; the poison’s effect seemed even stronger on her.

It’s over. Lin Mo’s heart turned to ice. The Black Scorpion didn’t even deign to show themselves—they would erase them silently in this tiny depression with poison gas!

Then— [18] “Hum…” [19] A faint, leaf-like hum emanated from the broken bowl guarded by Lingna at the shelter’s entrance!

“Hum…”

A faint, leaf-quivering hum emerged from the broken bowl guarded by Xiang Lingna at the shelter’s entrance!

The two mysterious seedlings, their leaves marked with purple veins, as if sensing mortal threat, violently trembled at their tips! The purple veins on their leaves flared with faint luminescence; a denser, fresher pale purple mist erupted like a geyser from their centers!

This time, the purple mist did not drift slowly—it formed a thin, spinning barrier that instantly enveloped the shelter’s entrance and the nearby Lin Mo, Lingna, and Ellie!

A miraculous sight unfolded!

The cloying, lethal yellow-green poison gas, upon touching the spinning pale purple barrier, dissolved and faded like snow before the sun! The suffocating sweetness vanished, replaced by a refreshing, earthy herbal fragrance!

Lin Mo felt his mind clear instantly; the dizziness receded. Lingna steadied herself, staring in awe at the magical purple barrier.

A flicker of shock crossed Ellie’s eyes—but more than that, a decisive will to seize this sliver of life. “Lingna! The crossbow! Shoot the source of the smoke!” she commanded, gritting her teeth against dizziness and agony.

Lingna snapped back to awareness. Seeing the poison smoke still seeping but blocked by the purple mist, fear flashed across her face—but even stronger was the courage to protect her home. She raised the small crossbow; though her arm still trembled, she clenched her teeth and aimed at the shadowed ruins beyond the eastern fence, where the smoke had emerged.

“Shhh!” The bolt flew. Weak in force, inaccurate—it lodged in the edge of a broken wall.

Though it missed its target, the bolt was like a stone cast into still water!

“On guard! Withdraw!” A cold, rasping voice hissed from the shadows.

Several figures clad in tight gray combat suits, faces hidden behind gas masks, recoiled like startled lizards from their hiding spots among the ruins, moving with impossible agility. The spreading yellow-green smoke vanished as if its source had been cut off.

The depression fell silent once more, save for the slow, glowing rotation of the pale purple mist, guarding the three shaken survivors.

Lingna stared at the two seedlings in the broken bowl—now their leaves hung limp, their purple veins dim and lifeless, as if drained of all vitality—and burst into tears. “They… they’re not moving anymore…”

Lin Mo looked at the dissolving poison smoke and the empty ruins beyond, then at the withered seedlings and crying Lingna. Fear and awe filled him. The Black Scorpion… like a venomous snake in the shadows—striking once, then vanishing instantly. More terrifying than the Mad Dogs’ frenzy.

Ellie struggled to sit upright, watching the magical purple mist slowly fade. Her gaze settled on the withered seedlings, then turned to Lingna. Deep within her cold eyes, for the first time, flickered a complex, unreadable emotion. This mysterious power had saved them—but at what cost?

“They… will come back,” Ellie said, voice heavy with exhaustion, yet colder with killing intent. “Next time… it will be worse.”

The Black Scorpion’s venomous fangs had been bared. Hope Outpost had barely survived the clash of poison mist and purple light—but it was now wounded, exposed to a more treacherous hunter. Was Lingna’s seedling secret a blessing or a curse? And how would the Black Scorpion’s “Sweet Dream” strike next?