Chapter Forty-Six: Lamentation

Although the scorpion’s blood was an inky shade of green, looking rather revolting, once the shell of the massive pincer was cracked open, the flesh inside revealed itself to be pure white, translucent, glistening like the finest king crab. Its tenderness was astonishing, and because this scorpion was so formidable, the meat extracted from its pincers was even springier than that of a king crab. Held in the hand, it quivered gently yet didn’t fall apart, making one’s mouth water with a single glance.

Despite the dramatic ups and downs and extreme hardships of the past two days, when Catherine finally pulled that snowy-white scorpion meat from the giant pincer, dipped it into Ling Mo’s secret sauce, and placed it in her mouth, she instantly forgot every ordeal she had endured. Her eyes narrowed with happiness, and a strange sense of fulfillment washed over her, as if she could declare: “My life has truly been worth it.”

This scorpion meat was outrageously delicious!

Moved almost to tears, she savored the meat’s bouncy texture bursting on her tongue. With a gentle bite, its juices flooded her mouth, filling every corner with an intoxicating freshness. Ling Mo’s sauce was the perfect finishing touch—a hint of spice that not only highlighted the savory flavor but also tingled her tongue, making it even more sensitive and moist.

She simply couldn’t stop. Before she’d even swallowed one mouthful, she was already eagerly chewing the next. Each layer of flavor exploded in her mouth, sending Catherine nearly into ecstasy. Before she knew it, she had devoured the entire pincer, leaving it spotlessly clean.

The giant pincer, nearly a meter long, didn’t yield as much meat as one might think. Savoring the lingering taste, Catherine licked her fingers, longing for a second helping. After a moment’s thought, she picked up the other massive pincer, walked over to Ling Mo, and offered it with a bright smile.

“Master, let’s split it—half for each of us!”

Ling Mo looked at Catherine with mild surprise and nodded slightly. He set the pincer aside, picked up a slender scorpion leg, and gestured to her. With his knife, he shaved off all the barbed bristles, collected them, discarded the now smooth leg, rolled the bristles into a ball, dipped them into a thicker sauce, and tossed them into his mouth. Instantly, a look of pure enjoyment appeared on his face.

Is that how you’re supposed to eat those?

Catherine’s curiosity was piqued. She imitated him, rolling up the barbed bristles from a scorpion leg—barely half a fistful in total—then cautiously took a bite. Her eyes lit up at once.

Unlike the meat from the giant pincer, these bristles had a texture reminiscent of crispy cartilage. They brought not the freshness of meat, but a shockingly rich, roasted aroma—like marinated tenderloin deep-fried at a scorching temperature, sealing in every bit of flavor. With her limited culinary experience, Catherine could only compare it to the charred skewers she enjoyed with icy beer on sweltering summer days, except this was dozens of times more fragrant and flavorful!

A few quick bites polished off the bristle ball, and Catherine clearly felt her body rapidly healing itself. The long wound across her torso was completely closed, her right breast—which had been split in two—was now fully restored, the new skin astonishingly supple, as if it would yield with the slightest pinch. Her internal organs, too, seemed nourished, brimming with vitality; with every mouthful, she felt herself growing stronger.

She had almost exposed herself earlier, but luckily, ever since the battle ended, Catherine had kept the magic-eye sprite’s camera fixed on her face alone. The entire screen showed nothing but her blissful eating expression, prompting another wave of “fraudulent streamer” spam in the bullet comments.

Now that the hunger had ebbed, Catherine finally remembered to ask Ling Mo, “Master, my clothes are ruined. You said before you’d make me a set like yours, out of beast hide. When will you give it to me?”

“I’ve had it ready for you all along,” Ling Mo replied, his mouth stuffed as he extracted more meat from another pincer. He used ventriloquism to answer, “Look, it’s right over there on the ground. Try it on!”

Catherine’s gaze shifted, and she was instantly captivated by the set of beast-hide clothing on the ground. Unable to resist, she walked over, picked it up with care, and examined it closely, becoming more satisfied with every look. Without hesitation, she slipped it on.

She had expected Ling Mo to make her something similar to his own attire—a roughly cut, hastily stitched beast-hide skirt, fluffy and wrapped about the waist, just secure enough not to fall off. Yet this garment was nothing of the sort.

It was entirely black, divided into two main pieces, along with a pair of armguards and kneepads. The top was a form-fitting sports vest, strikingly fashionable—if it hadn’t come from Ling Mo, Catherine would have guessed it was the work of a top designer from the City of Romance. It lifted her curves perfectly; the neckline was tastefully revealing—neither brazen nor demure, a true stroke of genius. The hem just reached her waist, leaving her toned midriff bare, adding a wild allure. The lower half was styled as shorts, slightly looser than the top, covering just half her thighs—suggestive, yet never vulgar. Most intriguing were the faint dark-gold patterns flowing across the black leather, like ancient totems displayed in a museum, imbuing the garment with an air of mystery.

“This—this outfit…” After changing, Catherine immediately snapped a picture of herself with the magic-eye sprite. The transformation in her aura was stark: a wild nobility radiated from her, and she was overjoyed. “Master, where did you get this? It’s stunning!”

“I made it myself. Where else?” Ling Mo replied.

“You made it yourself? Haven’t you been living in the Rainforest of Magical Beasts for seventeen years? And you’re still such a masterful designer?”

“This outfit’s based on the styles from… my homeland. I didn’t design it myself.” By now, Ling Mo had finished the scorpion’s pincers and was reaching for the long antennae. Catherine finally snapped back to her senses and hurried over to stop him. “Master, you already had a whole pincer! Don’t eat the rest of my food!”

Ling Mo turned, stifling a laugh. “Are you sure you can eat more?”

“With food this delicious, how could I possibly—hic!” Halfway through her protest, Catherine let out a loud burp. She suddenly realized: after eating those bristles, she was already full!

Noticing her surprise, Ling Mo chuckled, popped the scorpion’s antennae into his mouth, and chewed noisily as he explained, “The Flatstone Scorpion relies on two things to sense its surroundings: its pair of infrared-sensitive eyes for tracking prey, and the bristles on its legs to detect subtle air vibrations. That’s how it could strike you with its tail even when facing away. These bristles have been with it since birth—unless sliced off, they never shed, and they’re packed with energy.”

Rubbing her now distended stomach, Catherine groaned, “If you knew I’d be full after so little, why did you have me strip off so much from the Flatstone Scorpion? Look at that massive tail—what a waste!”

“I’ll eat it, don’t worry. Nothing will be wasted.”

You eating it is even worse than wasting it! Catherine grumbled to herself. Watching Ling Mo gnaw on the scorpion’s tail with relish, smacking his lips shamelessly, she simply lowered the bullet comment transparency to focus on the happenings in the stream, out of sight, out of mind.

“Hey, everyone, have you ever seen a master who squeezes his apprentice this hard? Did I board a pirate ship by mistake? How does one escape from under the nose of a martial arts grandmaster? Asking for urgent advice.”

“The streamer’s obviously got the upper hand right now, but still talking nonsense!”

“Come off it! Without your master, you’d have died five times already!”

“Hey, your master’s not bad! Back when I went to New Orient to learn cooking, I washed my master’s clothes for half a year just for one spicy chicken recipe!”

“So many honest folks in front! Can’t you tell the streamer’s being sarcastic?”

“Honest people! Ostracize them! Don’t let them join us when we go to the bathroom!”

“The streamer’s outfit is really gorgeous! Why haven’t I seen this style online?”

“Who’d have thought Teacher Ling—a super tough guy—would have such skillful hands!”

“With skills like that, Teacher Ling could quit fighting and be a designer, living the good life!”

“Did you notice? The style is new, but it’s the dark-gold totem patterns that really stand out! What hide is it made from?”

“User ‘Catherine’s Little Fangirl’ tips a Chaos Meteor to the streamer: ‘I love your outfit! If you ever stop wearing it, can I buy it off you for a high price?’”

“User ‘Wants to Lick Catherine’s Feet’ tips five Chaos Meteors: ‘Please leave the outfit to me! I want it with your scent!’”

“Official ID ‘Director of High-level Magical Beast Research Association’ tips a Chaos Meteor: ‘Stop dreaming, you can’t afford it! We just discussed—it’s made from Level Six magical beasts, with dark-gold cloud patterns from the Shadowblade Panther! And the top and bottom come from two different panthers—two Level Six magical beasts!’”

“Official ID ‘Professor Niu, Magical Beast Studies’ tips a Chaos Meteor: ‘Ha, Old Li, you noticed too? But look closer! The armguards and kneepads have different cloud patterns as well—actually, it’s from three Shadowblade Panthers!’”

“…”

The bullet comments fell silent. Level Six magical beasts! What did that mean? Even a Magus wouldn’t dare claim certain victory one-on-one! And the Shadowblade Panther was famed for its speed and cunning. This outfit—made from the hides of three such beasts—was priceless, enough to last ten lifetimes!

Catherine was stunned. She hurriedly turned off the comments and looked up at Ling Mo for confirmation. “Master, is this outfit really made from Level Six magical beast hide?”

“Mm.” Ling Mo had finished all the scorpion parts and gave a casual affirmative. He then gestured for Catherine to be quiet. His gaze was fixed on the cave they had emerged from, his expression grave. Starlight fell across his face, lending him a rugged solemnity.

Catherine followed his gaze, but the pitch-black cave mouth revealed nothing unusual. Yet Ling Mo watched for a long time, saying nothing, only sighing softly and lowering his head to leave. At that moment, the immense outer wall of the cave—at least a dozen meters high—began to tremble. Pebbles started to fall, and faint, mournful cries seemed to echo all around them, impossible to pinpoint.