The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar] Chapter 40

From the sky to the ground, everyone had suffered some degree of attack from the giant dragonflies. The short-haired girl had lost the most stamina, dropping a full seven points.

She started at 93.

The boy froze, his expression one of horror, instinctively retreating a few steps from her as if she were venomous.

The short-haired girl also realized the situation in an instant, her face turning deathly pale as she looked down.

The sunset cast a warm orange glow, making the red warning light on her wristband less noticeable. Only now did she see it clearly—the number on her wristband had dropped to zero. The warning light flashed for three seconds before fading into darkness, as if drawing the curtain on a nightmare.

The enormous centipede continued to approach. From the low canopy of the rainforest, a swarm of bizarre insects, each about the size of a thumb, swooped down with thin wings, their long, siphon-like mouthparts extending menacingly. Their cold, compound eyes were locked onto the short-haired girl alone. Bubbles rose from the blackened swamp, thorny underbrush was pushed aside, and creatures lurking beneath the water surfaced, revealing rough, wart-covered skin.

It was as if the rainforest itself had come alive.

Karl sneered, watching the scene with amusement. “We should get going before we get dragged down with her. She may be a teammate, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

His words were returned to her, word for word.

“N-no…” The short-haired girl’s lips trembled. Her dilated pupils reflected the swarming, grotesque insects. She stood frozen in terror. When the insects finally plunged toward her, she snapped out of it, screaming in panic and leaping backward.

“Help me! Please, help me!” Her fingers clutched desperately at the boy’s shirt, tears spilling down her face in pure fear.

The boy, now caught, recoiled as if haunted, stumbling back against a tree.

The short-haired girl sobbed incoherently, “Take me with you, I’m begging you, please!”

Her leg had been bitten by a venomous insect—the toxin had paralyzed her calf, leaving her unable to run.

The boy was near tears himself. “How am I supposed to carry you?! Come on, just let me go, alright?!”

He struggled to shake free, but she clung on for dear life.

The short-haired girl wailed, “Then I’m just going to die here! I don’t care! You have to take me!”

The boy looked even more desperate than she did.

Karl let out a scornful laugh. “Brother, listen, don’t try to play the hero here. She doesn’t deserve it.”

The short-haired girl screamed, her voice breaking, “Don’t leave me alone! I’m scared!”

“You—you’re wasting your breath on me!” The boy was small and thin, even more so than the short-haired girl. Now trapped, his face turned red and white in turns, looking utterly miserable.

Karl, despite his sharp tongue, wasn’t heartless. He despised the short-haired girl, but he still felt some camaraderie with the boy. He turned to Ke Lingxuan and said, “Wait for me. I can’t let that idiot get dragged down with her.”

Ke Lingxuan was briefly taken aback before laughing and nodding. “En.”

The insects’ attacks were highly targeted, swarming around the short-haired girl. She screamed, crouching down and covering her head with one hand while using the other to clutch onto the boy, refusing to let go. It didn’t look like she was asking for help—it looked like she wanted to drag someone down with her.

Meanwhile, the centipede and the prehistoric swamp creatures were closing in.

Karl dashed forward with long strides. With his strength, he easily pried the short-haired girl’s fingers loose and yanked the dazed boy away. “Move!”

It was as if the boy had been jolted awake from a nightmare. His face was drenched in sweat, and he didn’t dare pause for even a second as he sprinted toward the others.

The moment the short-haired girl’s grip was torn away, it was as if her last hope had been ripped from her. She let out a shrill, sobbing curse. “Karl! You b*stard! You filthy wh&re! You son of a b&tch!”

Karl wasn’t deliberately being cruel—at this point, no one could save her. In the perilous Carboniferous-era rainforest, running out of stamina meant certain death. Was he supposed to just stand there and let her take another person down with her?

In reality, she had brought this upon herself. From the very beginning, when they were collecting the chronicle entries, Ke Lingxuan had noticed her stamina was depleting faster than the others and advised her to return early. But at that time, the short-haired girl had been too preoccupied with trailing behind others, trying to snatch up whatever findings she could. She had been paranoid, thinking Ke Lingxuan was just bitter about her tagging along, and had even sneered, “What, do you own this rainforest? Just because you got the shot first doesn’t mean I can’t take my own.”

Ke Lingxuan had lost the patience to argue with her and decided to let her dig her own grave.

Karl sneered. “You did this to yourself.” Who had the time to plot against her? Everything was her own doing.

The short-haired girl cried until her voice was hoarse, her chest heaving with a mixture of regret, fear, and fury. She finally accepted her fate. Lifting her bloodshot eyes from the writhing mass of insects, she ignored the bites and stings covering her arms, legs, and face. Her eyes locked onto Karl’s retreating back.

And then, suddenly, she lunged.

Like a rabid dog, she clawed at Karl’s arm.

Karl hadn’t expected her to lose it so completely. “What the h*ll, you crazy b*tch?!”

But this time, the short-haired girl’s movements were precise—she knew exactly what she was doing. Her tangled hair framed a face twisted with resentment. She grinned viciously. “You brought this on yourselves. Let’s all die together. Who’s afraid now?”

With both hands, she grabbed Karl’s wristband and yanked it off in one sharp motion. Then, with a fierce swing of her arm, she flung it several meters away.

Karl’s eyes widened in shock.

Ke Lingxuan was stunned. “The wristband!”

Lin Jing hesitated for a second, instinctively stepping forward, but Xu Wanzhi grabbed his wrist.

Xu Wanzhi’s voice was cold and quiet. “Don’t meddle.”

Lin Jing stopped in his tracks, pressing his lips together as he watched the chaos unfold.

Karl finally shook the short-haired girl off, trembling with rage. He turned to retrieve his wristband, but the insects had already caught his scent. A swarm descended upon him, thick as a black cloud, blocking out his vision entirely.

Karl’s voice trembled. “Crazy… you crazy b*tch…”

The forest was bathed in a chaotic, orange glow.

Madness. Despair. Screaming. Mockery.

Like some absurd human farce.

And from the swamp, the prehistoric creatures—resembling grotesque, ancient crocodiles—emerged, stepping forward, closing in.

Ke Lingxuan’s hands and feet were ice-cold, but she quickly calmed herself and ran in the direction where the wristband had disappeared.

She said, “Help me look for it, please. Thank you, everyone.”

Ke Lingxuan was well-liked, and everyone was willing to help. The wristband had been thrown into a thicket, and given the normal passage of time, they should have enough time to find it.

The short-haired girl no longer cared about anything—her only thought was that if she was going to die, then these people shouldn’t think they could survive either. Serves them right.

Dragging her body despite the pain in her calf, she lunged toward the group like a rabid dog, her face twisted with malice.

“What are you looking for? Just die here with me.”

Her first target was actually the closest person—Elena.

Elena instinctively raised her arm to block, which was exactly what the short-haired girl wanted.

She sank her teeth into Elena’s arm, leaving a deep, bloody mark. She had planned to use the moment Elena struggled to rip off her wristband.

But to her surprise, Elena seemed completely unaffected by pain.

Elena stared at her coldly for a long moment, then lowered her head, locking eyes with her. She smiled—a dangerous, seductive glint in her gaze.

“I haven’t even settled our old scores yet, and now you’ve come to me on your own?”

The short-haired girl’s frenzied, triumphant expression froze slightly.

In the next instant, a surge of immense mental power burst forth in front of her.

Survivor was a world built entirely on mental power, and those with high levels naturally had their own unique abilities.

Just as Xu Wanzhi could control brainless jellyfish—

The thorns along the forest path suddenly pierced into the short-haired girl’s legs.

She collapsed into the brambles, her body covered in cuts and blood. A shrill scream tore from her throat.

The thick scent of her blood intensified her presence, making Karl slightly less of a target.

A giant centipede slowly approached, its front legs pinning her down as it began to drag her backward, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.

“No! No, don’t come near me—!”

Her pupils were filled with despair.

Above her, all she could see were the centipede’s compound eyes and its opening mandibles.

“Aaaah… ugh…”

The process of a centipede devouring its prey was always slow. Her screams gradually turned into sobs, then dissolved into silence, accompanied only by the sound of chewing—adding an eerie chill to the blood-stained dusk.

The man in the floral shirt had died in the jaws of the nautilus.

The short-haired girl had died in the jaws of a giant centipede.

Every prehistoric creature in this world was like a looming shadow, waiting to be revealed.

“Where is it? Where? How can it be gone?”

Ke Lingxuan crouched, sweat beading on her forehead from anxiety. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked up at the others. “Did anyone see it?”

Lin Jing had sharp eyesight, but even he hadn’t spotted it. He shook his head. Although Xu Wanzhi had told him not to meddle, helping to search for an item was no big deal.

Ke Lingxuan’s tears spilled over in an instant.

Karl had climbed a tree to escape the “crocodile.” But even in the trees, he was surrounded by insects and lizards. Below, the crocodile circled, as if waiting for him to fall—if he did, there would be nothing left of him.

The boy Karl had saved was searching with desperate seriousness, but he, too, found nothing.

Guilt and anxiety consumed him, no better than Ke Lingxuan’s despair.

Karl, perched in the tree, had mixed feelings as he watched the fading sunset. Finally, he sighed and said, “Forget it.”

Ke Lingxuan turned to look at him, dazed.

Karl felt both touched and helpless. He grinned bitterly. “It’s just my mental body getting hurt. It’s not like I’m actually dead. Just remember to add me as a friend when you get out. What’s there to cry about? Nothing to cry over.”

Ke Lingxuan murmured, “Mental body injury…” As if it were that simple.

Survivor had many protective measures in place, and this world wasn’t meant to be that dangerous. If the submarine had still been around, they never would have ended up here.

What had they been thinking, steering the submarine out of the kelp forest?

Inside the submarine, there had been soft beds, timed breakfasts, and absolutely safe nights. They never had to worry about the dangers outside.

And now, even a good night’s sleep was a luxury.

“Just go already. Don’t wait until your time runs out too.”

Karl flashed them a mischievous grin.

The guy in the black jacket understood him well.

Though Karl was a rebellious type, Black Jacket knew exactly what he meant.

Black Jacket said, “Don’t be sad. He really doesn’t think he’s got it that bad.” Sure, the short-haired girl had pissed him off, but the joy of successfully chasing his crush made up for everything.

Ke Lingxuan bit her lip.

Karl waved at them with a smile. “You guys wouldn’t want to watch me get eaten by a crocodile, right? At least let me keep some dignity.”

Xu Wanzhi lowered his gaze and said indifferently, “Let’s go.”

Lin Jing glanced at his wristband. It was already down to 4.

The ones who remained were hardly the type to lighten the mood.

Black Jacket never imagined he’d end up playing peacemaker in a situation like this. He scratched his nose and said awkwardly, “Let’s go, let’s go. We’ll meet him again when we respawn. The game must go on.”

Ke Lingxuan wiped her tears, her eyes still red, and nodded.

She took a few steps forward, then paused and turned back.

The setting sun cast a golden glow on the side of her face, making her look warm and beautiful.

For a brief moment, Karl felt like his soul had ascended.

He’d have plenty to brag about once he got out of here.

Ke Lingxuan seemed like she wanted to say something but ultimately chose to remain silent.

When she finally turned away, Karl’s smile slowly faded.

He let out a long sigh, his expression carrying a trace of loneliness.

Black Jacket had no experience in comforting girls, so he wisely kept his distance.

That was probably why he was still a single, rebellious guy.

Aside from his initial ruthlessness on the first day, Black Jacket had behaved fairly normally afterward. But today’s events left him feeling off.

After thinking for a long time, he finally muttered, “That teammate was seriously messed up. Just straight-up evil.”

Yeah…

Lin Jing silently agreed.

The gruesome deaths of players in the game didn’t really affect him much.

He was momentarily stunned by the short-haired girl’s final outburst—her desperate resolve that if she was going to die, she would drag everyone down with her.

Unbelievable.

What kind of hatred ran that deep?

Elena said, “How unbelievable?”

Black Jacket hadn’t expected her to speak, so he was briefly caught off guard before answering honestly, “That short-haired girl—none of us owed her anything, yet she acted like this was some kind of revenge. Even in death, she had to take someone with her. If that’s not beyond messed up, I don’t know what is.”

Elena gazed forward, her expression hovering between amusement and indifference. In a light voice, she murmured, “But there are many people like that in this world—dying isn’t enough for them; they have to drag others down too.”

As she finished speaking, her eyes flickered toward Xu Wanzhi, and she smiled slightly. “Wan, what do you think?”

The evening glow was faint, and the setting sun was as red as blood.

Lin Jing immediately understood the woman’s intentions.

Before Xu Wanzhi could reply, Lin Jing, ever protective, countered, “Are you talking about yourself?”

Elena was momentarily surprised, then quickly caught on and smiled without saying a word.

Lin Jing turned to look at Xu Wanzhi again.

Xu Wanzhi’s expression remained cool and distant, as if he hadn’t heard anything at all.

Lin Jing only then realized that, except in his presence, Xu Wanzhi hardly ever smiled—not just that, but he rarely expressed any emotion at all. No joy, no anger, no sorrow. His demeanor was difficult to describe; Lin Jing had met many people in his life, but none with a presence quite like his. A person’s coldness could stem from many things—past experiences, innate temperament, or even an external façade. It often came with a degree of arrogance, fragility, or sorrow. But Xu Wanzhi’s indifference was too pure, so pure it felt less like a personality trait and more like a mark branded into his soul.

And beneath that brand, loneliness was an original sin.

The group walked on in silence.

By the time they entered the cave, the light outside had completely faded.

Time passed differently in the rainforest than in the deep sea—it was far more vibrant. From inside the cave, looking out, it resembled an aurora forest. The stars above swirled in endless motion, like the dawn of the universe itself, vast and boundless.

As he watched, Lin Jing suddenly realized that tomorrow marked the Permian period—the Great Permian Extinction, the third mass extinction event in history, and the end of this script.

“Xu Wanzhi.”

Late at night, when everyone else was asleep, Lin Jing called out to him softly.

Xu Wanzhi turned his head. “Hm?”

Lin Jing said, “Thank you.” They had made it through this thanks to him.

Xu Wanzhi smiled faintly. “Still mad at me?”

Lin Jing admitted, “I didn’t really have the right to be mad in the first place. I just felt unlucky to have run into you.” He hesitated for a moment before asking, “But I am curious—why do you look out for me so much?”

Xu Wanzhi replied, “Because I owe you.”

Lin Jing blinked. “Huh?”

Xu Wanzhi’s cold, beautiful eyes rested on him quietly. He smiled slightly and asked casually, “Aren’t you curious about me?”

Lin Jing: “What do you mean?”

Xu Wanzhi said, “My past. That woman kept making those ridiculously obvious hints.”

Lin Jing: “…”

So in Xu Wanzhi’s eyes, Elena had always been some sort of fool? Then where did she get her self-satisfied confidence from?

Luckily, Xu Wanzhi didn’t dwell on the topic. The corners of his lips curled up as he said, “Tomorrow might be exhausting. Get some sleep. Good night.”

Lin Jing obediently shut his mouth—only to realize a second later: Wait, no, he still hadn’t asked Xu Wanzhi what he owed him for!

That night, no one slept soundly.

Ke Lingxuan laid curled on the ground, her face pale and her eyes staring blankly.

The boy Karl had saved sat in silent misery, his mood heavy with guilt.

Elena, since entering the game, had barely slept at all.

Black Jacket, on the other hand, was too excited about soon leaving the game to fall asleep, tossing and turning.

The nearsighted boy sat huddled in a corner, his entire body trembling as he tried to shrink into the smallest space possible.

The cave walls were covered in glowing moss, casting a faint green light.

His mind was filled with two scenes.

One was in the deep sea—Elena had pulled off Floral Shirt’s wristband, leaving him to be devoured by the nautilus. The instant his camera exploded, countless photographs scattered like falling snow.

The other was today—when, among the tangled branches, he had spotted Karl’s wristband. He had secretly picked it up, and when Ke Lingxuan had asked him tearfully whether he had seen it, some strange impulse had made him say, “No.”

Elena had been standing nearby at the time. She had glanced at him—mocking, knowing.

Now, his whole body was trembling. The two memories overlapped in his mind.

The observer had become the perpetrator. The roles had reversed. The perspective had flipped.

His fingers traced the smooth surface of the wristband, and he kept telling himself—

…It’s fine. No one knows about this.

…Elena isn’t a good person either. What right does she have to judge me?

…It’s just a game. Maybe the score didn’t matter that much to Karl. But to him, it was different. He needed the points.

The nearsighted boy felt feverish, burning and freezing at once. His mind was a haze, but a single thought broke through: that black spider.

At the entrance of the cave, separated by a makeshift barricade of three wooden sticks, two blood-red eyes stared at him. Lin Jing had said it was poisonous, that it couldn’t be let out.

And yet he had moved—he had released it. He had even slipped it into his backpack.

The bag had been still ever since. He didn’t know how the creatures of the Antique Codex evolved, nor what the black spider had become inside his zipped-up backpack.

He hadn’t even thought about what came next.

His hands had acted before his mind could catch up.

Maybe, sometimes, doing something evil was just an instinctive reaction.

The nearsighted boy opened his eyes in distress. His vacant gaze slowly refocused and landed on Lin Jing.