He walked for two hours, but the communicator had no signal—other than taking selfies, it was completely useless for contacting Ji Tianjin and the others.
The rainforest was truly crawling with venomous creatures.
Even a poisonous spider on the ground was relentlessly chasing after him. If it weren’t so disgusting, Su Cha would’ve already stomped on it. He sighed, “So my blood is the sweetest, huh?”
There were simply too many predatory birds hunting him—it was beyond normal frequency.
Unintentionally, Su Cha had stumbled upon the truth. This was due to his own natural floral scent and the fact that he was on the verge of a deep awakening. His blood and flesh were indeed irresistibly fragrant to beasts.
After dealing with a few more wolves that came to attack him, a hawk swiftly flew across the sky. Su Cha narrowed his eyes—it didn’t chase him, which likely meant it was someone’s spirit form.
Picking up his pace, Su Cha wanted to find a place near the nest of some strange beasts. Although strange beasts were rare on this desolate star, that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. At a critical moment, they could be used as a potential escape route.
But things didn’t go his way. After the hawk, he soon encountered a peregrine falcon flying at a slightly lower altitude, and it was clearly radiating spiritual energy. Upon spotting Su Cha, the falcon immediately turned back.
Su Cha frowned. These spirit forms weren’t scouting the path—they seemed to be searching for a specific target… like him.
Why were they fixated on him?
On the surface, Fog Star was at a disadvantage in this competition. Even if other players were selecting elimination targets, they should logically aim for stronger teams.
The rainforest stretched endlessly. As Su Cha walked, he used his spiritual power to scout the surroundings. He didn’t find any strange beasts yet, but he did find uninvited guests.
In a flash, Su Cha sharply turned around, his guard up.
Almost at the same time, a dagger narrowly grazed his arm, slashing his clothes with a tearing sound. Luckily, he dodged quickly enough to avoid injury.
For some reason, his spirit form was a beat slow to react, as if it had been startled—gone was the ferocity it had shown when fighting the giant snake. Su Cha stumbled to the ground and leaned against a tree in a rather disheveled state.
The magnolia lazily adjusted its posture, also clinging to the tree, looking so weak it seemed like it couldn’t withstand a single blow.
“Oh?” The person who had attacked finally stepped out, his hair a mess, his tone mocking. “You’re even weaker than I imagined.”
His two teammates also emerged. “Looks like we’re lucky, running into someone who’s all alone.”
Su Cha looked panicked on the surface, but inwardly he was calm as water. Seeing the three of them blabbering on instead of attacking him in one swift move, and thinking back to how some planetary leaders had been overly friendly to him during the previous days’ meetings, he quickly pieced things together.
Sure enough, just as the three finally attacked together, a leopard suddenly leapt over from another direction and blocked one of the strikes for him.
The attackers’ expressions changed. “It’s the Federation’s people—retreat!”
A second ago they were so aggressive, the next they fled faster than rabbits.
Su Cha tilted his head slightly. Just as he suspected—a classic “hero saves the damsel” setup. How creative of them.
He had to admit, the atmosphere was on point, especially when the leopard dashed back to its owner, and the pair looked valiant and imposing.
“Are you okay?” came a sweet, caring voice.
Su Cha really wanted to ask: Are you guys okay? Are all of you okay?
You’re still using such a cheesy setup?
But the explanation they gave was very reasonable. The three Federation members introduced themselves: the girl was Ge Shixu, the team captain was Li Xingqu, who was also the son of the Federation’s president, and the third member was Zhao En.
Li Xingqu took the initiative to offer, “I heard your spiritual power has a soothing effect. We can team up for now.”
His gaze lingered on Su Cha’s face. Zhao En frowned slightly. Ge Shixu was one of the Federation’s top beauties. The president had made a last-minute change to the team roster and sent her here—it was obvious what his intentions were. Originally, Zhao En and Li Xingqu only needed to offer some occasional support.
But seeing how Li Xingqu’s eyes practically glued themselves to Su Cha, Zhao En was visibly displeased, though he forced himself to suppress it.
Su Cha didn’t reject the offer to team up and even pretended to casually ask why they happened to be in this area too.
…
Tsk.
Many people watching the live broadcast quietly cursed the Federation president in their hearts.
Why else? The competition was organized by the Federation—they obviously manipulated the drop points to place their players near Su Cha.
Some glanced at Cyril, curious about his reaction.
Xie Rongjue, who loved stirring the pot, deliberately chimed in, “The connections young people make these days are truly fascinating.”
His words were laced with sarcasm, implying this was a staged and carefully planned encounter.
The Federation president simply smiled, indifferent to the snide remarks—so long as his goal was achieved, nothing else mattered.
Youth was a wonderful thing—impulsive, headstrong, throwing everything aside for love. If Su Cha was that kind of person, it would make things even easier.
But then, he heard Cyril quietly mumble to himself—
“One God arrives, Two God leaves.”
The Federation president frowned. What was it with Fog Star’s people always spouting this cryptic nonsense?
In Cyril’s eyes, this was nothing more than an elaborate, almost ritualistic performance—a chaotic farce where God Two served as an assistant and God One played the lead role.
Maybe for others, this would be a romantic encounter, but Cyril knew Su Cha well—he would never be swayed by something like this.
…
Just as Cyril expected, Su Cha only found the whole thing childish.
When Su Cha asked, Li Xingqu smiled and said, “Maybe the committee was biased. Maybe we were lucky. Maybe it’s fate.”
He didn’t bother to strongly deny anything. With his gentlemanly, mild appearance, his words naturally seemed sincere.
Su Cha disliked this man—especially those eyes that looked noble on the surface but were actually filled with desire.
At this moment, Li Xingqu patted Su Cha’s shoulder, as if trying to get closer. “How about this—we team up to eliminate other contestants and split the points 70-30?”
Of course, Su Cha would get the 30.
Li Xingqu thought he was offering a very generous deal, assuming Su Cha couldn’t contribute much in combat aside from his soothing floral scent.
But that floral scent alone was more than enough to attract him.
On the first day the Fog Star battleship arrived, Li Xingqu felt a bit tempted the moment Su Cha disembarked. If it weren’t for Su Cha’s noble status on Fog Star, he would have already thought of ways to get him into his hands.
That body was top-tier, and he would even smell fragrant in bed. Tsk…
None of his filthy thoughts showed on his face—in fact, he smiled even more gently.
Su Cha quietly avoided those grabby hands.
Every little move from Li Xingqu seemed completely natural. He would just “accidentally” brush against Su Cha while walking.
“Careful not to get caught by the branches,” he reminded softly.
Zhao En shot Su Cha a cold glance, cursing him as a vixen in his heart.
Without intending to, Su Cha ended up finding the strange beast’s nest he’d been searching for. He had planned to float along casually while looking for Ji Tianjin and the others, but instead, he ran straight into a beast’s lair.
On Dawn-Dusk Star, it’s the rainy season for three out of four quarters of the year. The rain is highly toxic, so not many beasts survive. The ones that remain are all steeped in the toxins and fight with terrifying madness.
Li Xingqu finally pulled his attention away from Su Cha and frowned. Hunting these beasts wouldn’t earn them any points and would just waste time.
Su Cha was hoping more would come—to help wear down the Federation players’ strength.
A swarm of beasts suddenly swooped down. Li Xingqu said in a low voice, “Stand behind me.”
He knew exactly how to act to leave a deep impression. But what he didn’t notice was the flash of venom in Zhao En’s eyes.
Meanwhile—
Ji Tianjin’s team wasn’t in a rush to start eliminating players. They were still searching for Su Cha.
Di Yuansi shook his head. “This rainforest is huge. Without a tracker, it’s hard to find him.”
“Look for beast nests first.”
Ji Tianjin understood Su Cha’s strategy—he would definitely treat the beasts as a backup plan, using frenzied beasts to interfere with stronger players at critical moments.
Compared to searching for a person, finding beast nests was much easier.
Water sources, footprints, droppings—all were clues easy to follow.
Liu Xiqin could feel Ji Tianjin’s worry. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d been walking quickly the entire time. She tried to comfort him: “Su Cha definitely knows how to protect himself.”
“There are too many dangers in the rainforest. If he encounters other groups, he’ll be in trouble.”
Su Cha could absorb others’ spirit power, but it required physical contact—and no one would be dumb enough to just stand still and let him touch them.
…
At present, there were about twenty beasts. Li Xingqu wanted to pull back and even tried to grab Su Cha’s wrist to lead him away.
But Su Cha was faster at retreating than he was.
It was like dealing with a clingy pest—every time Li Xingqu got close, Su Cha would get goosebumps all over. But Li Xingqu’s moves were always casual and never crossed the line, so Su Cha could only keep dodging without completely tearing the mask off.
Long exposed to toxins, these beasts fought to the death, but they weren’t as fast as normal beasts. Li Xingqu leaped midair and, using his mechanical gloves, smashed one beast’s eye with precision.
As blood splattered, he followed with a spinning kick—his movements were smooth and strikingly elegant.
He glanced sidelong at Su Cha, only to find that while dodging the beasts, Su Cha had inexplicably started rolling up his sleeves.
Noticing the gaze on him, Su Cha looked up and gave a slight smile—as if saying, “Once I find solid backup, I’m going to personally crush this annoying pest.”
The beasts fell one by one. Su Cha nimbly dodged the entire time, with zero intention of helping. This team clearly had other motives for keeping him around—it was already the bottom line that they hadn’t tried to ambush him yet.
Twenty minutes later, the last beast was killed by Ge Shixu.
“It’s over.” She let out a long breath. The ground was slick with blood, almost forming a stream.
Li Xingqu was recharging his mechanical gloves. At this moment when everyone should have been relaxed, Su Cha suddenly sensed something. He shot out like an arrow, and Zhao En was suddenly standing where Su Cha had been.
His first assassination attempt had failed, but Zhao En didn’t hesitate to strike again.
No one had anticipated Zhao En’s sneak attack.
Zhao En even went all in, commanding his spirit form to attack Su Cha from behind at the same time.
Before Su Cha could fight back, a white tiger suddenly dropped from the sky and pounced on Zhao En, leaving a deep gash on his left shoulder. Zhao En rolled hard to his feet.
“Zhao En, are you insane?!” Li Xingqu finally snapped out of it and cursed.
“You’re the one who’s insane—dragging along a useless burden to split points with!”
Li Xingqu’s face darkened. His gaze carried a warning, trying to remind Zhao En of why they had approached Su Cha in the first place.
But that one look had the opposite effect.
“Li Xingqu, are you even human?” Zhao En sneered. “When you were with me, it was all underground and in secret. From the moment this started, you’ve been desperate to stick yourself to him.”
Su Cha, now being directly pointed at, narrowed his eyes, lost in thought.
Li Xingqu’s expression was ugly. In the interstellar age, same-sex marriage was common, but Zhao En’s family background was ordinary—his only advantages were his talent and his absolute obedience. Over time, Li Xingqu had almost forgotten Zhao En’s nickname was “Tyrannosaurus.”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t been trying to restrain himself—but Su Cha’s conditions were simply too good. That face was practically god-tier. If he acted too slowly, he’d risk losing him to Ge Shixu.
Li Xingqu immediately denied any relationship: “What nonsense are you spouting? I’ve only ever seen you as a friend.”
Zhao En demanded, “Would a friend give a friend a Valentine’s Day gift?”
Li Xingqu, ever the actor, first looked stunned and then feigned sudden realization. “That was from Anan. She asked me to pass it on to you.”
Li Anan was Li Xingqu’s cousin.
Ji Tianjin, who had just arrived, had no time for this messy love drama. He immediately gave his white tiger the attack command. Once Zhao En was eliminated, the entire Federation team would be out.
“Su Cha, are you okay?” Liu Xiqin arrived shortly after.
Seeing them, Su Cha’s expression visibly softened.
In the sky, the man and the tiger tangled fiercely. Zhao En’s spirit form was completely crushed by Ji Tianjin. Grabbing the eagle’s wing with one hand, Ji Tianjin viciously flung it, sending the eagle crashing into a tree several meters away.
As Zhao En’s spirit form was damaged, intense pain shot through his head, slowing his movements.
The white tiger seized the chance to strike him down.
“Wait.”
Su Cha would never let someone who tried to ambush him off so easily. In just a few strides, he rushed forward. “Hold him down for me!”
His tone was calm, but the pressure was immense. The white tiger trembled slightly but obediently pinned Zhao En to the ground with its massive paw.
“Hah—”
Su Cha sneered coldly and slapped him hard across the face.
Zhao En’s eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn’t expected that this seemingly delicate person would strike so ruthlessly.
At the same time, Di Yuansi, a master of stealth attacks, silently approached Li Xingqu, coordinating flawlessly with Liu Xiqin, aiming deadly strikes. The battlefield was in utter chaos. Ge Shixu hesitated, unsure whether to help Zhao En or Li Xingqu. In the end, she chose Zhao En—Li Xingqu was stronger and should be able to hold on longer.
In terms of strength, the Federation team wasn’t weak, but having just finished a grueling battle, their Spiritual energy hadn’t fully recovered. Now outnumbered three to four, they were at a clear disadvantage.
Just as Ge Shixu moved forward, Su Cha suddenly stopped.
Following his gaze, Ge Shixu’s expression changed.
Ji Tianjin, after swiftly eliminating Zhao En’s spirit form, didn’t pause at all. Moving at near-human speed limits, he appeared behind Li Xingqu in a flash, pressing a short dagger to his throat. A slight movement would slit it.
Li Xingqu wasn’t worried about the dagger—it would likely trigger his emergency defense system before it cut too deep.
His eyes burned with rage, more furious at being unable to unleash his full arsenal in this three-on-one situation.
“Fight me one-on-one if you’ve got the guts!”
Ji Tianjin didn’t press the dagger further but instead glanced at Su Cha.
Su Cha, eyes locked intently on Li Xingqu, made him feel a chill deep in his bones.
Su Cha had been quietly monitoring the emotional waves around him the entire time, clearly sensing Li Xingqu’s emotional turmoil when he denied the relationship.
Seeing Li Xingqu caught, Zhao En gave up struggling under the white tiger’s paw and cursed, “Li Xingqu, you deserve this, you—”
Slap!
His words were abruptly cut off.
Zhao En was completely stunned. He truly hadn’t expected Su Cha to slap Li Xingqu as well—not just once. Even the audience watching the live broadcast was shocked.
Since one hand wasn’t enough, Su Cha called in his spirit form to help.
This time, he didn’t even need to give the order—the magnolia had already raised its large leaves and began slapping rapidly, the continuous slap-slap-slap sounds resembling a machine gun.
Li Xingqu finally snapped out of his shock. From childhood to now, not even his president father had ever hit him—he’d only ever been scolded. Getting repeatedly slapped like this? He couldn’t tolerate it.
Su Cha coldly asked, “Why did you lie?”
“You’re dead! Don’t think that just because you’re from F—”
Slap! “Still talking back?”
Even with his celestial beauty, when shrouded in darkness, Su Cha exuded a terrifying, bloodthirsty aura. Their eyes met, and Li Xingqu was genuinely frightened by Su Cha’s gaze.
Luckily, in the next second, he didn’t need to fear anymore because his neck was nearly slapped crooked, his head turning away, unintentionally breaking their eye contact.
“Why didn’t you admit your relationship?” Su Cha grabbed his collar and forced his head back.
Ji Tianjin slightly loosened the dagger’s pressure to prevent triggering Li Xingqu’s defense system.
“Why did you blame it on someone else?”
One question, one slap. As Su Cha leaned in, his silver hair flowed, and even his pupils shimmered with complex patterns.
“I absolutely hate people who keep their relationships secret and shift blame onto others.” Each word was gritted out through clenched teeth.
Li Xingqu’s swollen face overlapped in Su Cha’s mind with that of Su Yeling from his memories, fueling his relentless slapping.
Again and again—even with spirit energy protection—Li Xingqu was slapped into a state of ringing ears and dizziness.
A delicate-looking vine had suddenly turned into a ferocious monster—that was the most terrifying part. Those nearby could feel the darkness radiating from Su Cha’s eyes. Even Zhao En, who moments ago had been madly in love, shrank his neck.
He couldn’t figure out what was happening. Why was Li Xingqu being slapped like this?
Shouldn’t the betrayed one be the one losing control?
Li Xingqu was even more clueless about what he had done wrong. His mind buzzed like static, completely unable to think. Drool and blood mixed at the corner of his mouth as he stood there, slack-jawed.
Finally, his eyes went vacant, and in between the relentless slaps, he forced out, “N-next time—”
“There is no next time!”
There would never be a next time.
…
The arena was so silent that one could hear a pin drop.
From Zhao En’s initial ambush, before people had even processed one event, another had already erupted.
Sanses, who had barely spoken, asked casually, “How long has the match been going?”
Xie Rongjue answered precisely, “Three hours, twenty minutes, and five seconds.”
Excluding the time Su Cha spent interacting with animals, he had only been around people for just over an hour.
These kinds of matches usually wouldn’t end for several days—Xie Rongjue genuinely couldn’t predict what other chaos might unfold.
From the moment Li Xingqu received the first slap, the Federation President’s smile had already collapsed. He immediately summoned the organizing committee: “Broadcast a command from the warship. Tell him to stop, or we’ll disqualify him.”
A high-ranking Zerg royal casually sneered, “There’s no rule violation—what’s the rush?”
The Federation President slammed to his feet. “Anyone can see he’s deliberately humiliating a contestant!”
The Zerg royal lazily dragged out a long “Oh? Is that so?”
Ignoring him, the Federation President turned to Cyril. “Does your country intend to give me an explanation?”
“Su Cha is simply too angry—angry at others for being irresponsible about their feelings.”
“Angry on behalf of someone else?” The Federation President laughed in fury. “Ask anyone here—who would believe that?”
His immense spiritual pressure nearly suffocated the arena. As someone capable of becoming the Federation President, his power was indisputable. The other nearby leaders watching the show all reined themselves in a little.
“Who would believe that?” His question boomed, rattling eardrums. Everyone he glanced at instinctively looked away.
A powerful figure’s rage made the entire arena deadly silent.
“I believe.”
The sudden interruption drew countless eyes, including the Federation President’s, toward the speaker.
Sanses calmly repeated, “I believe.”
He stared steadily at the large screen in front of him. “Su Cha is so angry that he’s triggered a deep-level awakening.”
Only then did everyone snap their attention to the broadcast. Someone even blurted out, “Holy sh*t!”
On screen, a violent spiritual storm was forming around Su Cha, just as Sanses had said—Su Cha had literally awakened himself from sheer rage while furiously slapping someone.
