Chapter 15: “You Really Do Know How to Work, Don’t You?”
????The bloated, maggot-like Ghostbeast barely twitched as Chen Fan’s spear pinned it to the earth. It died almost instantly, its grotesque body going limp without so much as a struggle.
??“Nice work!”
??There was no ti to examine the corpse. Chen Fan swiftly pulled in the remaining ropes, dragging the rest of the Beast Traps out from the darkness. Each one had captured another maggot Ghostbeast. Crippled Monkey, spear in hand, dispatched them with practiced efficiency—one thrust, one kill.
??He was as reliable as ever.
??Once the work was done, Chen Fan tossed the emptied Beast Traps outside the camp and slipped into the wooden cabin with Crippled Monkey at his side. Both of them peered into the gloom beyond the walls, eyes glinting with anticipation.
??The Ghostbeasts were unusually active tonight.
??After the span of three breaths, one of the hemp ropes began to twitch again.
??Another one had taken the bait.
??...
??An hour later.
??Chen Fan stood bare-chested inside the cabin, peeling off his rain-soaked roughspun coat. He wrung it out with both hands, icy water streaming onto the wooden floor, then hung the garnt above the stove to dry. He let out a long, weary exhale.
??The past half hour had been a windfall—one Ghostbeast after another blundering into the traps.
??But now, their numbers seed to be dwindling. It had already been the ti of two incense sticks since the last trap had been triggered. With nothing pressing left to do, Chen Fan finally took a mont to wash up, not wanting to risk catching a chill.
??This cabin, constructed with two Ghoststones, was sturdier and larger than the one he’d lived in back at the Main Camp.
??It was more than enough to keep out the cold and wind.
??Inside, several oil lamps glowed in their brackets on the walls, casting a warm light across the room. At its heart, a stove radiated gentle heat—not fueled by firewood, but by a single Ghoststone fitted into a recessed niche. Just one stone kept it burning for an entire year.
??It was a costly investnt, but the burn ti was worth it—far more efficient than Ghostfire.
??“Crippled Monkey, you’re the one with all the book learning. Any idea what kind of Ghostbeast this is?”
??“Never seen it before,” Crippled Monkey replied, frowning in thought. “Back at the old schoolhouse, the teacher’s Ghostbeast encyclopedia never ntioned anything like this. He only taught us to recognize the common ones out in the Wasteland. Unless...”
??He hesitated, then continued, “Maybe this kind didn’t exist in the Wasteland before, or maybe they’re so rare no one’s noticed them until now.”
??...
??Chen Fan narrowed his eyes, falling silent.
??So far, aside from being hideous, this type of Ghostbeast didn’t seem to possess any special abilities. It was almost pathetically weak—bottom tier among Ghostbeasts. Still, tonight’s hunt had confird one of his suspicions.
??Each type of Ghostbeast truly did have its own territory out in the Wasteland.
??The area near the Main Camp had belonged to the Monkey-Head Ghouls. After he wiped them out, there hadn’t been any others around for a while.
??They waited another half hour.
??Still, not a single Ghostbeast wandered into the traps. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them, and both n drifted off to sleep on their beds.
??Until the rain stopped.
??Chen Fan woke groggy and bleary-eyed, pushing open the cabin door. A blast of cold, fresh air hit him in the face. The darkness had finally retreated, but outside, the rain showed no sign of letting up. Sheets of water hamred the ground, soaking into the cracked earth of the Wasteland, breathing a little life into its desolation.
??“Let’s get moving.”
??He glanced out to see Crippled Monkey already hard at work in the courtyard, undeterred by the rain. At so point, he’d woken up and was busy digging Ghoststones out of last night’s Ghostbeast corpses, dropping each one into a basket. The bodies he stacked neatly onto the handcart.
??“You’re up, Young Master!” Crippled Monkey called, running through the rain to the cabin door. “We killed forty-seven of those things last night—forty-seven Ghoststones, all loaded up here. The corpses can be hauled back to camp for fertilizer, but the cart’s too small for all of them.”
??“I tied them down with rope,” he added. “Makes the load a lot more stable.”
??“Well done.”
??“You really do know how to work, don’t you?”
??Chen Fan eyed the mountain of Ghostbeast remains piled on the cart, then pulled his dry clothes from above the stove and slipped them on. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. With a helper like this, he hardly had to say a word—everything just got done.
??“Heh...” Crippled Monkey scratched his head, sheepish. “Us servants aren’t afraid of hard work. What we can’t stand is having nothing to do.”
??“All right, let’s head ho.”
??...
??There was no telling when the rain would let up—and they couldn’t afford to wait.
??Crippled Monkey led the way, dragging the handcart through the downpour. Chen Fan followed behind, steadying the load so the corpses wouldn’t topple. Cold rain trickled down his neck, jolting him fully awake.
??The clothes he’d just dried were soaked through within a few steps.
??And it wasn’t just rain—the wind was fierce, too.
??Visibility dropped to almost nothing. If not for the Ghostskin Map guiding their way, they’d have been hopelessly lost in the Wasteland, with no chance of finding the road back. Before leaving, Chen Fan tossed another Ghoststone into the camp’s Ghostfire, ensuring it would keep burning.
??The journey was long.
??It had taken them an hour to get here yesterday, but now, hauling a heavy cart through the storm, nearly two hours passed before the camp finally ca into view.
??“Crippled Monkey, you’ve really outdone yourself.”
??Through the sheets of rain, Chen Fan glimpsed the camp, its outline blurred and distant. Feeling a little guilty, he patted Crippled Monkey’s shoulder.
??Making a cripple drag a cart for two hours—he really did feel bad about it. He’d tried to switch off and share the load, but after just a few steps he was out of breath. For all his limp, Crippled Monkey’s stamina was leagues ahead of his own.
??So all he could do was let Crippled Monkey pull the cart the whole way.
??“No worries,” Crippled Monkey said, wiping rain from his face, grinning as he trudged on. “Don’t know why, but back in the old days, even staying close to the Young Master, I always felt lost about the future.”
??“But now, every ti I get close to camp, it really feels like coming ho.”
??“Once I think about that, I don’t feel tired at all.”
??“Honestly, I feel like I’ve got energy to spare.”
??As they talked, the camp gradually ca into sharp relief.
??“Hm?”
??Chen Fan spotted Wang Kui and two of his n standing outside the camp in the pouring rain. He narrowed his eyes, puzzled, but strode forward, cupping his hands in greeting with a smile. “Station Master Wang! I was out handling so business, so I wasn’t at the station. What brings you all here...?”
??...
??Wang Kui stood silent in the rain, his gaze drifting past Chen Fan to the cart piled high with Ghostbeast corpses. For a long mont he just stared, eyes wide, forgetting his purpose. Then he swallowed hard, voice tight with urgency.
??“Station Master Chen—”
??“This is urgent, so I’ll be blunt. The rainy season’s co a month early this year!”
??“Normally, it starts in November, but this downpour will last a whole month. After that, winter hits—then the snows, and spring won’t co until March.”
??“Once the rainy season starts, the entire Wasteland gets sealed off. For five months, it’s a dead zone—no one goes in or out.”
??“All the Waystations out there will be abandoned until spring, when they’ll open up again.”
Reviews
All reviews (0)