Kashin pressed his face close to Shust's, a cruel grin twisting his features. "I'm claiming your life."
"I won't give it," Shust replied, face pale. With a sinister smirk, he flicked his trapped left index finger, and an invisible silk thread coiled around Kashin's neck in a blur.
Kashin, who'd witnessed the Sky Wolf Spider silk's lethality, felt his blood run cold. Forgetting about killing Shust, he released the whip coiled around Shust's arm and used the barbs to slash the silk. He leaped back, tearing the thread from his neck. Though Shust hadn't activated the silk, it left a shallow bloody gash.
"That was close..." Kashin touched his neck, fear now evident in his expression.
Shust, however, seemed unfazed by the near-death encounter, ignoring the wound on his right shoulder as he stood calmly in the encirclement.
Drip-drop, drip-drop.
Blood trickled from Shust's slender fingers, hitting the ground with an eerie rhythm.
"Incredible..." Rick, watching, was awestruck, cold sweat soaking his clothes.
"Hey!" Moya's hushed call reached Rick. He turned to see Moya poking out the cart window, pointing at the vehicle, then the river below.
"Jump into the river? This idiot thinks the cart is a boat?" Rick frowned, confused. When Moya glared and repeated the gesture, Rick swore under his breath. "He's insane."
Though the plan to drive the cart into the river seemed ridiculous,their bond from crossing two forbidden zones made Rick nod. He scanned the area: most of Kashin's men were occupied with Shust, leaving only three around him. The cart was unguarded except for Moncton, who stood neutral at the rear.
"Take out these three, and we can escape." Rick inched backward, but the Wolf Pack trio noticed, tightening their formation.
Their reaction was swift, but they didn't realize this small shift in the corner would ripple through the entire scene like a pebble dropped into a calm lake.
Shust moved: his silk coiled around a bridge chain, flinging him to the top. Kashin, wary of Shust's unpredictable silk after their last clash, hesitated to charge—allowing Shust to decapitate a charging Wolf Pack member.
Shust's ferocity had already struck fear into the Wolf Pack. Now, amidst the bloodshed, their morale plummeted, slowing their pursuit.
Shust's dominance drew everyone's attention, including the trio blocking Rick. This gave Rick his chance.
"Now!"
Rick slashed at the man nearest the bridge railing. A loud bang erupted, sparks flying. Using his brute strength, he knocked down the trio's tank—an armor-clad beetle user. This time, calculating his move, he targeted the slowest opponent, confident of breaking through.
"Moya!"
At his shout, Moya gunned the cart. The vehicle surged forward at unprecedented speed, slamming into the beetle hunter. Rick braced on the hood, flipping onto the roof, then used the cart's momentum to slash another attacker away.
With two of the trio down, the Wolf Pack was thrown off balance. They never expected Rick's attack to clear a path for the cart.
In a flash, Rick slashed through an arm-thick iron chain. The cart plunged off the bridge, soaring tens of meters like a fat insect before crashing into the dark river.
The sudden escape stunned even Shust's pursuers. Slowing their chase, they allowed Shust to break free, swinging from his silk to land on the cart as it bobbed to the surface.
"That cart... dammit, it's amphibious!"
On the bridge, everyone gaped as the cart extended tail fins and a propeller. With enhanced buoyancy, porter insects inside spun the gears, and the propeller churned water—the cart transformed into a speedboat, racing away until it vanished.
Silence fell. Kashin's face paled. A moment's hesitation had let them slip through his fingers.
Clap-clap-clap.
Moncton's applause cut through the quiet. Kashin whirled to see the captain admiring the river, stroking his mustache. "Brave kids. Daring move—hahaha, pure genius."
"Moncton, you—"
"Kashin, I've done what I promised." Moncton turned, glaring coldly. "My guards aren't your lackeys. Can't catch them? Not my problem."
"You just stood by and—"
"Enough!" Moncton urged his ground wolf insect closer. "I owe you nothing. Out of respect for Kahn, I helped. You're just too incompetent, little brother."
"You..." Kashin trembled with rage but held back, mindful of Moncton's status.
"You're not fit to lead the Wolf Pack yet." Moncton gazed at the highest bridge chain. "The Pack is about to change. Good luck."
"What?" Kashin followed his stare. A lone figure in black-and-gold insect armor, wild golden hair whipping in the wind, stood on the chain above.
"Balzac the Diving Beetle." Kashin's face flashed with panic.
"I'll bring back Shust's head." Balzac leaped into the river. A white wake sliced the water, chasing Rick's trail.
"The Pack's four pillars are turning on each other. Heh." Moncton grinned, returning to his men. "I'm off to Benning Town. If we meet again and you're still in the Pack, maybe I'll buy you a drink. Hahaha!"
Watching Moncton vanish, Kashin snapped an iron chain in fury. "Kill those two useless fools!"
"Ross and Fera?" a lackey asked.
"I never want to see them again." Kashin faced the river, eyes dark. "Balzac... You want Big Brother's seat too? Hmph, you're not the only one..."
Meanwhile, on the banks of the Walter River.
Dawn broke after the night's battle, sunlight spilling over the land. Rick dragged the plump insect cart onto the shore, panting. "Why do I always get stuck with the heavy lifting?!"
"Sorry, I'm drained." Moya patted his shoulder, sitting beside him.
"Like I expected anything else." Rick shot him a glare.
"Then..." Moya nodded toward Shust, bandaging his wounds under a mangrove tree. "You want him to do it?"
Rick flinched. "No thanks. Miracles don't happen."
"Heh... What now? I'll lose sleep around him." Moya frowned.
"Not much choice. That guy's a killing machine—I can't fight him off." Rick still trembled at the memory of last night's battle.
"Speaking of which, I found something weird." Moya whispered, grinning slyly. "That Don Quixote is off."
"Oh right! His beard was fake!" Rick remembered.
"Not just the beard. I also noticed..." Moya's voice dropped, punctuated by lecherous chuckles.
"Really?" Rick eyed him skeptically.
"Would I lie? Wanna find out?"
"Yeah. We can't have a weirdo around." Rick scanned the empty cart. "Where'd he go?"
"Supposedly to pee. That's the weird part—we're all men, deserted beach, but he sneaks into the woods."
"Right, suspicious. Ross and Fera just betrayed us—can't let it happen again."
Exchanging a knowing look, Rick and Moya crouched low, sneaking toward the dense mangroves.
The Walter River's mangroves stretched vast, roots webbing the water. At low tide, sand and tangled roots emerged; at high tide, cold water submerged all. This was Terry County's most complex terrain and a hotspot for insects. Rick, Moya, and likely Don Quixote too, were unaware of the danger—why else would he abandon the safe beach for the woods?
They crept near the trees, hiding behind thick roots. Then came the sound of urination.
"He really is peeing." Rick glared at Moya for dragging him here.
Moya blushed. "But he is weird! Is being careful wrong?"
"Nope." Rick turned to leave—peeping wasn't his thing. Better to sneak away before being caught.
"Wait," Moya suddenly grabbed him, whispering, "This is odd—why is he peeing squatting down?"
"You pervert! Maybe he's taking a shit."
"But maybe he's leaving a mark for the Wolf Pack. Let's get closer. If we smell shit, we'll leave."
Moya was fixated on the eccentric fellow. With a sigh, Rick crouched lower, inching nearer.
"Whoa, what a white ass!"
Rick peeked through the roots, eyes on the sliver of buttocks beneath Don Quixote's robe. Feeling he'd stared too long, he blushed and spat: "Dammit, since when did I start ogling men's asses?"
"See? No shit smell! He must be leaving a sign!" Moya sniffed excitedly.
"Fuck!" Rick cursed—Moya had forgotten they were spying. Before he could cover Moya's mouth, Don Quixote turned, panic in his eyes. Then, an unexpected twist:
Whoosh! From the soft sand behind Don Quixote, a fluffy, lotus-shaped head lunged, a long stinger aimed at his back.
"Leech Insect!" Rick recognized the disgusting creature—without it, he might never have become a hunter. Though bigger than the sewer leech, Rick had grown stronger.
In a blur, Rick shoved Don Quixote aside. The stinger missed his cap, pinning it to a root. With a slash, Rick decapitated the leech, kicking its writhing body away.
He turned coolly to Don Quixote—then nearly popped his eyes out.
Golden hair cascaded over delicate shoulders. The robe, torn by Rick, revealed a snow-white shoulder. Leather pants hung at the calves, the robe's hem barely covering long, tempting legs.
Gulp. Rick swallowed hard, mind blank.
"C-could you..." Rick knelt, poking the exposed shoulder.
The figure whirled, revealing an exquisitely beautiful face—big eyes, a pouty frown, a damp collar splattered with insect juice, and half a fake mustache slid to the chin.
"It's you!—" Rick jumped back, trembling. This was Lav, Nanze's granddaughter! When had she become bumbling Don Quixote?
"You... you bully!" Lav burst into tears, sobbing so pitifully that Rick felt guilty.
"Hey, don't cry! I didn't mean to." Rick fidgeted, eyes glued to her unbuttoned pants. Feeling shameless, he reached to help.
"What are you doing?!" Lav flinched, yanking up her pants, eyeing him warily.
" I... I just..." Rick groaned, speechless.
Moya wandered over, confused: "What's happening?"
"Die! This is your fault!" Rick snapped, smacking Moya's head.
"Hahaha..." Laughter echoed from above. Shust leered from a branch, gave a thumbs-up, and vanished.
"W-what does that mean?" Rick turned to see Lav eyeing him strangely. He spun around, stammering: "I swear, I didn't mean to! And I saved you! Get dressed, we'll talk later..."
Grabbing dazed Moya, Rick fled the woods before Lav could respond.