Chapter Forty-Seven: The Black-Patterned King Scorpion

Chapter 47: The Black-Marked Scorpion King

Upon reaching the territory of the Black-Marked Scorpion King, the surrounding landscape had already shed the poisonous plants and venomous beasts that lined the road before. Xia Zheng cautiously weakened the barrier's shielding function, only to discover nothing amiss. He continued to diminish it, still safe, until at last he deactivated it completely.

He exhaled in relief, realizing the air here was exceptionally crisp and clear—truly rare, as if this place were a hidden sanctuary.

A whistle sounded again. Xia Zheng immediately unfurled his psychic energy, gathering the earth around him to envelop himself, forming a makeshift earthen mound.

A red scorpion, as large as a full-grown water buffalo, emerged. Its tail, long and arched, ended in a gleaming blue stinger. Upon its back, a pair of eye-shaped markings resembled human eyes, hinting at a certain intelligence. Along each flank were three additional eyes, granting it a broad field of vision. Its twin massive pincers opened and closed constantly, as if searching for enemies.

As the red scorpion made its rounds, even climbing atop Xia Zheng’s mound, it detected no threat and turned to leave. At that moment, Xia Zheng clearly saw four black stripes—three horizontal and one vertical—on the creature’s back, forming the character for "King." No wonder it was called the Black-Marked Scorpion King.

In Xia Zheng's mind, intelligence on the Black-Marked Scorpion King surged forth: this creature was ferocious, its carapace nearly impenetrable—even sniper bullets would struggle to pierce it, requiring specialized armor-piercing rounds. Its tail stinger was lethally venomous; a single strike could paralyze and convulse a victim within seconds, causing them to die frothing at the mouth, their corpse blackened and rotting. Furthermore, it could spray highly corrosive venom from glands on each side of its abdomen, causing anything it touched to fester and die. Its massive pincers wielded the strength of a thousand pounds, effortlessly clipping through stone or steel.

The dossier noted a single fatal weakness: a white spot at the center of its abdomen, about two centimeters wide. Only an attack there could kill it instantly. However, the Black-Marked Scorpion King was steady on its feet and fiercely guarded its belly, making a successful strike costly and dangerous.

Xia Zheng absorbed every detail, and a bold idea began to take shape. Just as he was about to act, an unexpected development occurred—a squad of mutant hunters arrived.

The squad comprised five people: two men and three women. The men wore heavy armor with helmets, wielding axes and heavy firearms, clearly warriors. The women bore light firearms and crossbows.

Assessing their formation, Xia Zheng doubted their odds. Their firepower was impressive, but not enough to suppress the Scorpion King head-on—unless they numbered in the dozens. Besides, the intelligence hadn't specified how many Black-Marked Scorpion Kings were here; it seemed impossible to ascertain.

The whistle pierced the air again. This time, the red scorpion finally spotted the hunter squad and hastened toward them, serving as a kind of scout, circling warily.

“There it is—that’s the monster!” cried a woman, her voice trembling with terror, clearly shaken by the colossal scorpion.

“Open fire!” barked the squad leader, unleashing a barrage. His gun packed a punch; one shot sent the scorpion staggering, even blasting off a pincer. However, the weapon was slow, requiring two to three seconds between shots, and its magazine was limited—after three rounds, he had to reload.

The three female hunters had already opened fire, bullets pouring out as if costless, only to spark harmlessly off the scorpion’s armored shell—its defenses were truly formidable.

Bang!

Another powerful shot—but it missed. Not due to poor aim, but because the scorpion no longer advanced in a straight line. Instead, it weaved back and forth, snakelike, having learned from its earlier mistake.

“Definitely not an ordinary scorpion,” Xia Zheng thought, “It can learn and adapt.” He remained motionless in the distance, with no intention of aiding these strangers. After all his recent ordeals, he had become more rational, even cold; to show himself now would be suicide, and he owed these people nothing.

“Hold it back, Adam!” shouted one of the women. The axe-wielding man roared, seeming to grow taller as his muscles bulged—a power-type mutant. Charging the scorpion, he swung his double-bladed axe with impressive force.

Clang! The scorpion’s remaining pincer blocked the blow. With an ally so close, the others hesitated, afraid to open fire.

“This beast is too strong—I may not be able to hold it!” Adam shouted to his teammates.

“Adam, look out!” his male companion cried. Adam froze, then bellowed in fury, shifting his grip to wield the axe one-handed while the other hand snapped a round shield into place before him.

The Scorpion King’s tail, swift and cunning as an assassin, darted in. Adam tried desperately to block the strike with his shield, but he was naive—the tail feinted, then flicked upward, arcing over the shield and piercing the back of his skull.

“Shit!” Adam cursed, a final expletive before death.

A moment later, the stinger drove through his brain, erupting from his forehead, and held him aloft like a grotesque banner.

The sight of Adam’s death shattered the remaining three women. Two turned and ran; the third stood frozen, her mind blank with terror.

Adrian, Adam’s remaining male comrade, roared in fury, firing as he charged. “You bastard, come on! I’ll kill you myself!”

Bang! Bang!

Two shots struck the scorpion’s back-eye markings, blasting out one of its eyes and drawing an agonized screech. Enraged, it charged.

“Come on!” Adrian fired again, the bullet tearing open the scorpion’s wound and gravely injuring it. But as he exulted, he realized too late that his gun only held three rounds. With no time to reload, he threw it aside, transformed into a gray wolf, and bolted, urging the last woman to flee with him.

She snapped from her daze, morphing into a fox and dashing away, but her speed was no match for Adrian’s, and he soon overtook her.

In its death throes, the Scorpion King let out a piercing whistle that echoed into the depths of the forest.

Then it gave chase, moving with astonishing speed. Adrian ran for his life, but the scorpion was faster. As it drew near, it sprayed venom from its flanks, dousing both Adrian and the woman.

Their screams rang out, their bodies as if bathed in acid, flesh sloughing away as they stumbled for dozens of meters before collapsing, barely alive. The scorpion, spent from its attack, collapsed as well, curling tightly upon itself.

In the next instant, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of Black-Marked Scorpion Kings swarmed the two still-breathing mutants, engulfing them until not even bones remained.

Still unsatisfied, the scorpions dispatched a search party, intent on hunting down the two who had previously escaped.

About ten minutes later, the two fleeing women were dragged back, alive but defeated. They had failed to escape the land of death, both having suffered misfortune en route.

One was entwined by a snake as thick as a bucket, which the scorpions simply brought back with her still coiled in its grip. The other had her leg caught by a monstrous carnivorous plant, her limb likely unsalvageable.

The swarm of scorpions regarded the two remaining human mutants as tribute, then melted away into the shadows behind an enormous ancient tree, their true numbers unknown. The dead scorpion was cannibalized by its kin, apparently a form of funeral rite.

A new Black-Marked Scorpion King stepped into the role of sentinel, circling the area. On the battlefield, three human corpses remained, silent witnesses to the carnage.

Only then did Xia Zheng drop his disguise. In the grass, he pinned a venomous snake that had been about to bite him, his heart pounding in the aftermath. Although classified as a C+ grade blood beast, its combat strength rivaled a B-grade, and in numbers, they were truly terrifying.

“It’s crucial to stay quiet. That’s why I didn’t bring firearms,” Xia Zheng mused. “And never let one call for its kin before it dies—otherwise, it’s extremely dangerous.” He reflected on the fallen squad’s gains and losses, grateful for the hard-won intelligence.

He reexamined his own hunting plan, finding it feasible, then steadied himself, slipping into hunter’s mode.

Mutants earned far more than ordinary people, but also shouldered greater risks, dancing with death daily. Xia Zheng understood this truth deeply. Yet he felt no regret—having awakened his abilities, he would never settle for an ordinary life. That wasn’t the life he desired.

The sentinel scorpion appeared again, almost as if on schedule—circling the area every four minutes and thirteen seconds, a testament to the wondrous precision of blood beasts.

Xia Zheng unclipped a throwing knife from his belt, gripping it tightly as he tracked the scorpion’s movement. At the moment it began ascending from a low point, he summoned his psychic power, instantly conjuring a lever at the junction of its abdomen and the ground.

Without suspense, the lever pried the scorpion up into the air. From below, Xia Zheng could see the white spot on its belly.

Swish!

His psychic force propelled the throwing knife straight into the fatal mark, plunging deep. The scorpion's death cry was cut short, and within seconds it crashed to the ground, curled up, and died.