The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar] Chapter 30

Lin Jing, “Then what should we eat?”

Xu Wanzhi looked at him seriously and asked, “Are you truly hungry?”

Lin Jing was stunned, realizing Xu Wanzhi had a point.

After not eating for a full day and night, Lin Jing didn’t feel faint or weak at all.

Unable to answer, he watched Xu Wanzhi’s lips curve into a playful smile as he said casually, “I told you, don’t trust the system too much.”

Lin Jing: “…” Why does it feel like I’m being led astray?

Lin Jing had been a rule-abiding person all his life. But now, Xu Wanzhi seemed to challenge the rules every day, disregarding the system’s authority. It really felt like he had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Oh well, meeting twice in Survivor must be fate.

Lin Jing swallowed back the words on the tip of his tongue. The internet connects people, so he decided to treasure this connection.

With the food problem resolved, there wasn’t much else to do underwater. After surfacing, they continued walking for quite a while.

Three days were enough for Lin Jing to adapt to life underwater. After pulling out a strange armored fish buried in the sand for a photo, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind: “Xu Wanzhi, have you done specialized research on the Paleozoic Era?”

Xu Wanzhi glanced at him. “No.”

Lin Jing was surprised. “Then how do you know so much?”

Xu Wanzhi replied indifferently, “I read a lot of books as a child and remembered them.”

Lin Jing was even more surprised. “From the Cambrian to the Silurian, with hundreds of species in the codex? You read one book as a kid and remembered all of it?”

Surely he was joking. Lin Jing prided himself on having a great memory, but even temporary recall had its limits. No one’s brain could hold that much. Jokingly, Lin Jing said, “We’ve known each other for so long. Let’s be honest with each other, shall we?”

Xu Wanzhi smiled, “Alright.”

But then he didn’t elaborate further.

Lin Jing cast him a suspicious glance.

Instead of continuing the topic, Xu Wanzhi crouched down, reaching into the swaying seaweed to grab a small pink, flat fish.

The fish had a broad head that narrowed at the back, with two tiny black eyes on either side of its head. Its tail, already forked like modern fish, was covered in fine scales, making it stand out amid the green seaweed.

Following Xu Wanzhi’s lead in this quest, Lin Jing had been an unapologetic freeloader, doing nothing but snapping photos. Without being asked, he silently raised his camera to capture the moment.

“This is a Phlebolepis,” Xu Wanzhi said. His voice was cool yet gentle beneath the sea.

Lin Jing leaned down to find the right angle. “It’s pretty cute.”

Xu Wanzhi chuckled lightly and asked, “Compared to that trilobite you drew a circle around and cursed, which one’s cuter?”

Without thinking, Lin Jing replied, “Of course, my ‘child’ is cuter.”

Having claimed it as his own, Lin Jing felt it was undoubtedly the most attractive creature in the entire Paleozoic Era.

The Phlebolepis was restless, spinning in circles and wagging its tail, disrupting the water and darting around, making photography difficult.

Lin Jing urged, “Hold it down and make it behave.”

“Okay.”

But Xu Wanzhi’s response was nonchalant, and the rebellious fish “whooshed” away, darting right up to Lin Jing’s face. Startled, Lin Jing nearly toppled into a patch of seaweed.

He grimaced but, for the sake of completing the codex, restrained himself. Using two fingers to pinch the fish’s tail, he held it firmly in front of the camera, forcing it to stay still for a photo.

The camera flashed, and simultaneously, Lin Jing noticed a flash of light above him.

Looking up, he saw Xu Wanzhi putting away his own camera, aimed in Lin Jing’s direction.

Lin Jing didn’t even have time to check the photo of the Phlebolepis before snatching the photo Xu Wanzhi had just taken. When he saw its content, his mouth twitched. As expected, the picture showed him, intensely focused on pressing the Phlebolepis against the camera lens, looking utterly ridiculous.

Xu Wanzhi laughed. “Don’t you think you’re a bit too casual about taking things from me?”

Lin Jing: “… Let’s call it even and trade.”

He handed over the photo of the Phlebolepis in his hand without hesitation.

Xu Wanzhi rejected it outright, saying, “Forget it. Your photo isn’t as good as mine. Totally not worth it.”

Lin Jing muttered, “Well, duh. Just look at who you were photographing.”

Xu Wanzhi suddenly made a proposal, his eyes glinting with amusement. “How about I give you a chance to take a photo of me? Then we can trade.”

Lin Jing froze, taking a moment to process Xu Wanzhi’s words. Wait—was he implying Lin Jing wasn’t as good-looking?

“No.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s a waste of film.”

Xu Wanzhi stayed silent for a moment, then said slowly, “Fair point. But, you know, film is something I never seem to run out of.”

After saying that, he smiled at Lin Jing.

And in that instant, Lin Jing understood the underlying meaning behind Xu Wanzhi’s remark about “never running out of film.”

As a guy who barely knew how to take photos, Lin Jing struggled just to get a clear shot of any creature with his crappy camera, let alone think about capturing a good composition.

When photographing airborne filter-feeders, he had to tiptoe and stretch his neck. For creatures in caves, he had to squat like he was doing martial arts. And for those buried in sand, he had to lie flat on his stomach.

The most embarrassing moments of Lin Jing’s life were probably all immortalized by Xu Wanzhi’s camera.

Even though Lin Jing wasn’t the type to care much about this kind of stuff, it still left him feeling exasperated. Wiping the mud and sand off his face, he said, “Alright, bro, I’ll call you ‘bro.’ Can you stop taking pictures and act like a decent person for once?”

Xu Wanzhi replied with a smirk, “Babe, have you misunderstood something?”

Lin Jing froze.

Xu Wanzhi handed over several photos without hesitation.

They were all stunning, dreamlike scenes of the Silurian seafloor: reefs, seaweed, caves, and corals. Not a trace of Lin Jing in them—at most, there were scattered fragments of him: a hand, a bit of hair, a foot, barely noticeable.

“…” Lin Jing was so awkward he had nothing left to say.

Of course, the kind of boss who could trigger a team-wipe ending in the last world wouldn’t be some sweet and innocent person.

Xu Wanzhi, as if suddenly enlightened, said, “Oh, you wanted me to take pictures of you? You should’ve said so. I rarely refuse your requests.”

Lin Jing, red with embarrassment and anger, yelled, “My request is for you to shut up right now!”

Xu Wanzhi chuckled but obliged. “Okay.”

Away from their group of peculiar teammates, Lin Jing found being alone with Xu Wanzhi unexpectedly relaxing. After all, in the last instance, they had shared a sleeping space without any awkwardness or discomfort. When Xu Wanzhi mentioned they had met before, it was probably true.

The curiosity that had faded in the last world was starting to surface again in this one.

Had they really crossed paths before? What could their first encounter have been like?

As he aimed his camera to photograph a sprawling coral, Lin Jing snuck a glance at Xu Wanzhi.

By all accounts, in both appearance and demeanor, Xu Wanzhi was undeniably outstanding. But between guys, compliments weren’t readily given—first impressions were always about silent comparison, weren’t they? When Lin Jing entered the Door of Life and Death, he had just hit rock bottom in life, focused only on survival and passing the levels, without dwelling on other things. If they’d met then, it probably wasn’t under pleasant circumstances.

The camera lens lingered on Xu Wanzhi for a long while.

Xu Wanzhi was seated on a rock by the coral reef, perfectly still, his gaze lowered as if he were seriously searching for a fish hiding within the coral. His long lashes, high nose bridge, and a beauty mark near his eye gave his otherwise cold profile a sharp, striking allure.

Lin Jing’s chaotic thoughts were interrupted by Xu Wanzhi’s calm voice. “It’s the first time I’ve voluntarily let someone photograph me. How long are you going to take before pressing the shutter?”

Lin Jing: “??!”

His heart skipped a beat, and his mind went blank. In his panic, he pressed the shutter, fumbling hurriedly.

The flash went off. Lin Jing instantly realized he’d been tricked, cursed under his breath, and quickly shook the camera.

The resulting photo was nothing but a blurry sea of red coral.

Xu Wanzhi laughed for a long time before exposing Lin Jing’s intentions outright. His cold eyes held a teasing glint as he asked, “Anything you want to ask?”

Not long ago, Lin Jing had declared, “Let’s be honest with each other.” So, naturally, he wouldn’t backtrack now. After hesitating for a moment, he asked slowly, “Can you explain what you meant by ‘crossing paths’ in more detail?”

Xu Wanzhi rose from the coral reef, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

Lin Jing clarified, “The first time we met.”

Xu Wanzhi replied, “The first meeting in real life, or the first meeting in the game?”

Lin Jing’s eyes widened. “What?”

Xu Wanzhi gazed at him intently, smiling as he said, “Although it was just a fleeting encounter, our connection runs pretty deep. But if you’ve forgotten, it must not have been something worth remembering.”

Lin Jing: “…”

Were they enemies before? Rivals? Nemeses? Well, that explained everything.

“Uh, how about we start over and just be friends?”

Before entering the game, Lin Jing had been determined to maintain a “live and let live” attitude and say goodbye as soon as the instance ended. But now, his perspective had shifted slightly. Thinking it over, Xu Wanzhi hadn’t really targeted him in the last world and had even helped him a lot in this one. Being friends wouldn’t be a bad idea, considering their shared history.

Lin Jing asked, “Your ID is really Wan Feng Wan Yue?” That way, he could just add him through the leaderboard.

Xu Wanzhi froze for a moment, quickly catching on to Lin Jing’s thought process. He then laughed and said, “That ID doesn’t have the friend function enabled. But for you, I can make an exception.”

Lin Jing: “?”

What—was adding a friend now some kind of special privilege?

Come on, dude. I was a (former) rank one myself!

Back in my prime, I wasn’t this excessive!

Lin Jing responded coldly, “Oh, I’m so honored.”

The Cambrian Period’s designated location was Chengjiang. In Ancient Codex, each time period’s ecosystem was fixed. To ease the game’s difficulty, the map size was limited. If you were unlucky and wandered too far, there was always a chance of running into old teammates.

The once-dominant nautiloids of the Ordovician had declined. Nicknamed “orthocones,” they now truly behaved like rocks, becoming prey for creatures they once hunted. Their seemingly sturdy shells were ruthlessly crushed by the powerful appendages of sea scorpions, exposing their soft, vulnerable flesh.

The several-meter-long nautilus was dragged into the muddy sand by three or four feather-tailed eurypterids and devoured.

Nearby, at another reef, a similar gruesome battle was taking place, though with the roles reversed.

Lin Jing didn’t take any immediate photos. After what had happened with the floral shirt guy, he understood that the flash of the camera would provoke sea creatures into attacking them. This was a deadly trap hidden within the mechanics of the game. Previously, he hadn’t noticed because the plants and animals he photographed lacked aggression. But with violent carnivores like the giant nautilus and sea scorpions, every move needed caution.