The little scorpion sizzled and blackened in the fire, its shell audibly crackling as it crisped.
Ye Shu crouched atop the rooftop, brow furrowed, watching the burning scorpion.
Su Bai was never one to act rashly—how could she have done something to enrage the giant scorpion?
In the distance, a sandstorm swept toward the city with overwhelming force. In an instant, black clouds pressed down from above, sand and debris swirling, birds and beasts scattering. The camels and other animals penned in the sheds shrieked in terror, struggling to break free from their reins.
"Xiao Bai, stay out of sight."
"Let me handle the scorpion!"
Ye Shu leapt down to the ground, searching for the monster’s tracks—yet it was clear she’d failed.
Su Bai clenched her fists, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Shu Shu, are we still friends? Didn’t we promise to face everything together…?"
Her Shu Shu was still so considerate—always the first to rush out when something happened, just to… protect her.
"Out of the way!"
"Don’t get in my way. You’re too weak—if that scorpion tangles with you, I’ll have to split my attention to save you. Stay hidden."
Without so much as glancing at Su Bai in the corner, Ye Shu dove into the hole the giant scorpion had left behind.
The gratitude on Su Bai’s face collapsed into nothing, her body stiffening.
Shu Shu… what did she just say?
She was too weak…
So it was just wishful thinking on her part. Ye Shu simply thought she was in the way—not because of some cherished bond of sisterhood from the past.
How foolish she’d been, imagining otherwise…
Su Bai’s gaze darkened as she looked at the ground, grinding the scorpion’s charred remains beneath her heel. Yet her eyes sparkled with an irrepressible spirit, no trace of resentment to be found.
That was the real Shu Shu!
Callous, implacable, utterly heartless.
Underground, silence pressed in from every side. Ye Shu watched the web of tunnels with wary caution, inwardly marveling at the scorpion’s talent for burrowing.
She pressed further into the dark, the faint scent of blood drifting to her.
Raising her sword, she hacked at the scorpion—once, twice, thrice—
She fought with reckless abandon, targeting its eyes and mouth: the gaps in its chitin. The surprise left the monster floundering, its great bulk clumsy in the tight space, leaving it helpless as Ye Shu’s peachwood blade stabbed into its shell.
Ye Shu had the scorpion completely baffled.
Creatures as fragile as humans had always fled in terror at the sight of it—how had the tables turned today, so it was the scorpion on the defensive?
Its barbed tail struck at Ye Shu's heart.
With its immense armored bulk, it began to regain the upper hand.
"Thud—"
Caught off guard, Ye Shu took a stinging blow as the barbed tail drove through the arm that held her sword. The scorpion seized the chance to inject its neurotoxin.
Her wooden sword toppled to the ground.
Dizziness swamped her senses, yet even then she thrust her sword to skewer the scorpion's armored pincer, slashing off its tail’s stinger.
So this was what it meant to both suffer and cause wounds.
The scorpion had lost its greatest weapon, its armored shell now rendered pointless—little more than a turtle without the ability to strike.
"Sssszzzt—"
Driven to rage, the scorpion charged in frenzied heedlessness, its wariness of its foe lost in fury.
Ye Shu collapsed to the ground, paralyzed, crushed beneath the monster into nothing more than a pile of flesh.
Above, Su Bai peered anxiously down through the hole. Her heart hammered; a bitter ache suffused her chest, as though something precious had slipped from her grasp.
Something’s wrong—Ye Shu must be in danger!
She leaned into the hole, shouting: "Shu Shu, are you there? Answer me!"
Her cries echoed in vain, no sign from below. Su Bai’s panic deepened.
Things were different now—Ye Shu was much stronger than before!
How could she be killed by a mere scorpion monster?
In her last life, she had survived the desert level safely.
No—it couldn’t be! Not possible!
Wind and sand howled past. Su Bai didn’t even hesitate at the risk of being buried alive by the coming sandstorm; she jumped down into the tunnel, lighting a spark to search.
"Shu Shu."
"Ye Shu, come out… I’m here, stop messing around, this isn’t funny!"
Suddenly, as she turned a corner, she saw the scorpion’s corpse—long dead—and a puddle of mangled flesh on the floor. On the meat, a piece of very familiar floral cloth. A sprinkle of cinnabar grains was scattered in the sand.
"No—!"
Su Bai broke down completely, throwing herself over the remains.
........
Pain.
Agony radiated through her body.
She’d died so many times, but it was the first time she’d been smashed to death by a monster—her body not even left whole.
Ye Shu managed a crooked smile.
After death, she thought she heard Su Bai’s voice—her wailing as shrill as ever, unsettling Ye Shu’s spirit.
But now she could be certain—
Since entering this ‘instance’, she’d definitely been marked by something.
Just before death, she’d heard a familiar sound—it was the Survival System.
[Damn it, I went to all this trouble, but I still can’t strip Ye Shu of her card skill. What is she, a monster? I can’t even unbind this wooden sword; no wonder the Executor failed…]
Even though she’d only heard those few words, Ye Shu felt a chill deep in her soul.
So the reset and upgrade cards she’d gotten at the start of the game weren’t gifts from the System at all?
That explained why, in a single day, she’d encountered sandstorms and monsters over and over again.
Targeted by the malice of the game itself…
The system’s true goal was her reset ability…
But for the short term, she was safe—the system seemed unable to harm her, at least not yet.
She already had suspicions about the identity of the Executor; all evidence pointed toward one person.
If Lin Qingyue was not a game NPC—but the System’s executor—her relentless pursuit in the first game made perfect sense.
Half an hour earlier, just after she’d entered the tunnel.
Knowing the scorpion’s weak point meant she could deal with it directly.
Something was determined to erase her from the game; perhaps her reset skill was far more than a rare trick.
Only at the brink of death did Ye Shu realize—the giant scorpion was a monster on par with her peachwood sword. Its exoskeleton rated at 90% hardness. If she hadn’t been able to repair and enhance her sword, nothing would have worked.
A woman’s voice echoed from outside the tunnel.
"Shu Shu, I’ll go in too! I swear I won’t be a burden!"
Suddenly, Su Bai felt a sharp pain in her chest as she stood by the tunnel’s mouth. Helplessly, she followed Ye Shu down.
Ye Shu meant to refuse.
But remembering the brief, timeless limbo that came after death—how she’d heard Su Bai’s voice full of despair—she changed her mind.
"Fine. Come."
After all, if she’d killed the giant scorpion once, did she really need to fear a second round?
Time passed.
The giant scorpion lost several legs, sprawling on the ground in impotent rage.
Ye Shu froze it solid, then shattered it into icy fragments.
Before she’d died last time, she’d been mashed into pulp—Ye Shu didn’t let go of grudges easily, and now, she certainly wouldn’t let this monster escape.
[Ding! Player Ye Shu has slain one SSS-class giant scorpion; 100 points awarded.]
The system’s announcement almost seemed to be delivered through gritted teeth.
Ye Shu chuckled softly.
So the system wasn’t just stingy by nature—it was out to get her, and her alone.
The monster was gone.
Next came the sandstorm.
She doubted the Survival System would treat her kindly now.
"Shu Shu… you’re incredible! You killed that poisonous scorpion in just a few moves."
Su Bai gave her a hearty thumbs-up, heaping praise with no restraint.
Suddenly, the scorpion’s corpse merged with Ye Shu’s shadow. In a daze, Su Bai thought she saw—on that bloody mess—the familiar floral cloth and storms of cinnabar scattered all around.