Four sea scorpions tore apart their prey, scattering blood and flesh everywhere. The stench was nauseating, stirring agitation among smaller predators and leaving other creatures trembling in fear.
When the sea scorpions finished their meal, only the nautilus’s mangled corpse remained in the sand. Its seven-to-eight-meter-long shell lay like a collapsed wall.
Lin Jing held up his camera, murmuring, “If encountering a nautilus still depends on luck, then with sea scorpions, there’s simply no way to even start.”
A giant nautilus was like a massive beast in the ocean. Even from a distance, it was large enough to capture clearly. But sea scorpions were different—they crawled along the seafloor, only about one to two meters in length. To take an effective photograph, one had to get close. Worse yet, these creatures were vicious, violent, and incredibly fast. After taking a photo, survival depended on immediately retreating to the submarine. But once they returned, they wouldn’t be able to come out into the Silurian period again. If they wanted to take a risk and leave the sea scorpions as the last creatures to photograph, it all depended on whether they would get another chance to encounter them.
And it wasn’t just the sea scorpions. As deep-sea resources became more abundant, more and more large marine predators would emerge.
Lin Jing finally understood the system’s intent. “No wonder the time limit is set right after the third mass extinction. The Triassic is the beginning of the dinosaur era.”
If they had to collect the codex under these absurd rules in the dinosaur-dominated Mesozoic era, the difficulty would at least be at the intermediate level, with an average score of only a few hundred.
Xu Wanzhi looked at him seriously and asked with amusement, “Why, after learning all these rules, do you still insist on playing in the dumbest and most straightforward way?”
Lin Jing: “……”
Xu Wanzhi said casually, “To photograph sea scorpions, you could just use a person as bait.”
Lin Jing ignored him and spoke slowly, “Don’t try to corrupt me.”
If a problem could be solved through normal means, even if it was tougher and more exhausting, there was no need to take shortcuts.
Although, what he considered “shortcuts” might be the proper way to play in Xu Wanzhi’s eyes.
Xu Wanzhi chuckled. “Oh.”
Lin Jing’s gaze shifted past the walls made of nautilus shells. From another coral reef, people began emerging one by one—it was Ke Lingxuan and her group.
They stood in front of a mangled corpse, silent and grim.
Ke Lingxuan fought against the nausea brought on by the stench, her face pale. “I don’t even know if a photo of a nautilus corpse would count.”
Karl immediately dismissed the idea, shaking his head. “No way. The system won’t recognize it.”
Ke Lingxuan pressed her lips together. “We have to photograph them alive?”
Photographing them alive… The group that had stepped out of the submarine looked at each other, and eventually, all eyes landed on Elena.
Terror filled Elena’s gaze as she took a step back, her voice trembling. “No, don’t provoke it. It’s too terrifying. I saw Kailun get torn apart by its tentacles—he didn’t even have time to react.”
Silence fell over the group. The death of the man in the floral shirt had become a chilling warning to all the players. It vividly and horrifyingly demonstrated the deadly threats in this simulation, revealing the brutal nature of the Paleozoic era.
Ke Lingxuan clutched her head in frustration. “Then what do we do? Most of the creatures left in the codex are large predators. If we avoid them, there’s no way we’ll reach 60% completion.”
Karl said nothing. The short-haired girl, usually sharp-tongued and critical, uncharacteristically kept her mouth shut and lowered her head.
They had originally been tracking the nautilus, but instead, they had stumbled upon a gruesome battle. And after seeing what happened to the man in the floral shirt, no one dared to casually press their camera shutters. Only after the fight ended and the sea scorpions left did they dare to step out from behind the reef.
Just as they were at a loss, Elena suddenly exclaimed in surprise, “Lin Jing?”
The group turned to follow her gaze, and sure enough, they spotted their missing companion from yesterday.
Lin Jing: “……”
How did Elena have such sharp eyesight?
There was no point in hiding anymore—sooner or later, they would have been discovered. Lin Jing simply walked forward openly.
Ke Lingxuan was stunned. “Lin Jing? You guys…”
Yesterday, three people hadn’t returned. Elena had testified that the man in the floral shirt was devoured by the nautilus, so everyone naturally assumed that Lin Jing and Xu Wanzhi had also perished in the depths.
But now, they were seeing them alive?!
—So what had they been doing yesterday?
Lin Jing held up his camera, smiling. “What a coincidence.”
Ke Lingxuan looked at him as if she had seen a ghost, her mouth agape. “Why didn’t you come back last night?”
Lin Jing thought for a moment before giving a half-truthful explanation. “We missed our chance to return, so we spent the night in the deep sea.”
Ke Lingxuan looked bewildered. “The deep sea?”
Lin Jing nodded. “Mm.”
Ke Lingxuan: “……”
That took some serious guts. She wouldn’t even dare to venture into the deep sea, let alone spend the night there.
Elena let out a breath of relief, her face full of gratitude. “That’s great. As long as you’re both safe.”
Lin Jing feigned ignorance and asked, “What happened last night? Why did you all assume Xu Wanzhi and I were dead?”
Elena stayed silent.
Ke Lingxuan sighed and explained, “Kailun was eaten by the nautilus yesterday, so I thought you two met the same fate. We’ve already lost a teammate. The deadly threat in Ancient Codex is ancient creatures attacking us. Our photography seems to provoke them directly.”
Lin Jing smiled. “Guess we got lucky.”
Ke Lingxuan sighed again. “But in the end, we still have to face these large deep-sea predators.”
Karl, standing beside her, offered some words of comfort. “Don’t worry. When the time comes, we’ll figure something out.”
Elena hesitated for a long time before finally voicing her thoughts: “Actually, I’ve been thinking… is it possible for us to take the submarine out?”
Everyone looked up at her words.
Perhaps witnessing her companion’s death had shaken Elena deeply. Her delicate face was now full of worry. She subconsciously clenched her wrist and said, “Inside the submarine, we’re completely safe. It has many windows, so we can stay inside and film the large creatures outside.”
Karl was momentarily stunned but quickly frowned. “Are you sure the submarine can even be operated?”
Elena replied, “I’ve looked inside. There’s a control room. It should be possible.”
The boy in the black jacket rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, “I think we should give it a shot. Otherwise, there’s no way to keep going.”
The short-haired girl, for once, sided with Elena. “Exactly. The submarine is technically one of the system’s tools, so why not use it?”
Ke Lingxuan still seemed hesitant.
Karl spoke slowly, “Right now, we’re in the Silurian period. But when we reach the Devonian and Permian periods, the seafloor will be crawling with giant fish. Sharks first appeared during this time. If we don’t use the submarine, we won’t be able to complete the illustrated guide later on.”
Even in the modern world, sharks are terrifying deep-sea predators. In the Paleozoic era, being attacked by a shark underwater meant certain death.
Ke Lingxuan sighed in resignation. “Fine. After today’s collection trip, we’ll go back and study it. But… does anyone here actually know how to operate a submarine?”
The rebellious youth in the black jacket stepped forward. “I do. I majored in mecha engineering at university. Operating a submarine shouldn’t be too hard.”
The short-haired girl scoffed, “Mecha engineering? You? Never would’ve guessed. So, you’re actually a top student?”
Mecha engineering was one of the most prestigious and demanding fields in the interstellar era, only offered by top-tier universities.
The black-jacketed boy sneered at her sarcasm. “Believe what you want.”
Although the short-haired girl was annoyed, she knew they needed him, so she swallowed her pride and held back.
The rest of the group nodded one by one, signaling their agreement.
Lin Jing instinctively glanced at the bespectacled boy, who had kept his head down the entire time, lips pressed tightly together, looking like a quiet and obedient student.
Ke Lingxuan let out a breath. “Alright, it’s decided. For now, let’s focus on collecting small and medium-sized creatures.”
Lin Jing had been planning to distance himself from the group anyway.
Once he moved far enough away, he tapped on his codex, deep in thought. “Is using the submarine really the right decision?”
Xu Wanzhi chuckled. “Isn’t this a good thing?”
Lin Jing curled his lips. “If anyone else had suggested it, I wouldn’t have thought much of it. But when it comes to Elena, I always feel like she has ulterior motives.”
Xu Wanzhi hummed. “Oh.”
Lin Jing sighed. “But I can’t figure out what she’s after. She wouldn’t just destroy the submarine and take us all down with her. If there’s danger, it’ll probably come at the last moment.”
Xu Wanzhi asked lazily, “So?”
Lin Jing concluded, “So, we should go back to the submarine tonight.”
Xu Wanzhi drawled, “Oh? You don’t want to stay out here with me?”
Lin Jing was caught off guard. He hadn’t even noticed the hint of disappointment in Xu Wanzhi’s tone. Patiently, he explained, “That’s not it. I didn’t go back yesterday because I didn’t want to watch Elena’s fake innocence and manipulation. But today, we’ve already shown ourselves to the group. If we stay outside again, it might make Elena suspicious.”
Xu Wanzhi chuckled. “Oh, alright.”
Lin Jing exhaled in relief—then suddenly realized, Wait a minute… Why was he explaining himself to Xu Wanzhi?
By the Silurian period, many creatures had undergone significant evolution. The emergence of jaws and the refinement of vertebrae seemed to herald a new era. Soft-bodied animals had made numerous modifications to their shells, while echinoderms had evolved into all sorts of bizarre forms.
Trilobites, once abundant in the Cambrian and Ordovician periods, had become significantly rarer.
Lin Jing no longer felt obsessed with the little trilobite he had previously marked.
In later studies of the Paleozoic era, the Silurian was often discussed alongside the Devonian because it was such a brief period in comparison.
As the countdown on their wrist devices reached zero, everyone returned to the submarine. This time, they gathered in the meeting room, all focused on the same thing.
After dinner, Elena was the first to speak. “The control room is at the end of the hallway. I’ll take you to see it.”
At the end of the hallway was a wall. When she pressed a switch, a narrow staircase leading upward was revealed.
The boy in the black jacket eagerly took the lead.
Unlike military submarines, this civilian model had a much simpler design. It lacked weapon systems, leaving only the nuclear power controls and ballast management to operate.
The submarine had remained in this kelp forest since they had entered the game. No one knew exactly where they were.
The control room wasn’t too big or too small—just enough to fit all nine of them.
The black-jacketed boy excitedly sat at the control panel. The interface was large, but since the submarine was in standby mode, the screens displayed nothing.
He muttered, “The sonar system isn’t even on. No wonder there’s no positioning data.”
Ke Lingxuan stood beside him, her expression tense. Karl, who already disliked men who stole his spotlight, scowled and looked away in annoyance.
The black-jacketed boy pressed a few buttons, and the massive machine, like a sleeping beast, suddenly stirred in the depths of the ocean. The propeller at the rear began to churn, and several red warning lights flickered in the control room. A beeping alarm sounded three times, each tone sending a shiver down their spines.
The short-haired girl paled. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? It sounds like it’s about to explode!”
The black-jacketed boy, sweating slightly, snapped, “Shut up.”
As the ballast tanks emptied, the submarine’s weight dropped below its buoyancy threshold, and it finally started to ascend.
The moment it began to rise, everyone held their breath. Through the control room’s windows, they could see the dark kelp swaying, drifting slowly past them.
Lin Jing instinctively glanced at Xu Wanzhi.
Xu Wanzhi showed no interest in the submarine at all, his gaze cold as he looked outside.