Chapter 23: Encountering the Fat Man Again

Five pieces of black-iron armed spoils: two defensive armors, one battle blade, and the remaining two were auxiliary armaments—one for underwater operations and one for reconnaissance. Lin Huang wasn’t quite sure what the specific functions of these last two were. All five armaments were in their inactive ring form, and with his current strength, he could not activate them.

Aside from the armaments, Lin Huang also emptied Xue Jie’s storage space of all life crystal shards, totaling more than thirty years’ worth—a fortune of over three million credits, which was a considerable sum for him. The rest was just useless odds and ends, not worth the trouble, especially since his own storage space was only a single cubic meter. He planned to use some credits after this assessment to expand the space in his Emperor’s Heart Ring.

Climbing onto Tyrant’s shoulder, Lin Huang directed the creature to veer slightly off the path Left Qiu Kang had taken, though the general direction remained eastward. It wasn’t that he was afraid of conflict; he simply disliked unnecessary trouble. The encounter with Left Qiu Kang’s group had already delayed him by more than half an hour. If such incidents happened several times a day, he’d make no progress at all, wasting all his time on pointless scuffles.

Tyrant had been charging east for less than twenty minutes when the desert winds began to pick up, sending sand swirling around them. Although the sandstorm wasn’t severe, Lin Huang still had to slow Tyrant down and cover his mouth and nose with his clothing.

Not long after reducing their speed, Lin Huang spotted a figure trudging through the swirling sand ahead—a short, round silhouette, its stubby legs struggling through the storm. “That back looks familiar,” Lin Huang thought, convinced he’d seen that figure before.

Tyrant, sensing prey, became excited and charged toward the figure. His hunting instincts told him this was a delicious morsel. “Tyrant, ignore him. Just pass by,” Lin Huang ordered. At his command, Tyrant suppressed his excitement and, abandoning the chase, simply stepped over the figure.

Yin Hangyi, who was trudging through the desert, was startled by the rumbling behind him. Glancing back, he saw a massive Sand Butcher charging his way, with a person seated on its left shoulder. Just as he was about to react, the Sand Butcher stepped right over his head and continued into the distance.

Yin Hangyi wasn’t frightened; what caught his attention was the man on the Sand Butcher’s shoulder. Though the man’s face was half-covered, only his eyes visible, Yin Hangyi felt a strong sense of familiarity. After a moment’s thought, he muttered, “Those eyes… they look like Lin Huang. Could it really be him?”

A sudden hope rose in him. He waved frantically at the retreating figure, shouting, “Lin Huang! Wait for me! It’s me, Yin Hangyi!”

Hearing his name called from behind, Lin Huang turned back. Through the haze of sand, he made out the figure’s identity. His expression grew odd—this chubby fellow was the type who made friends with everyone and never stopped talking. If he let him tag along, he’d be subjected to endless chatter all the way. But the man had already lost his way, and if the sandstorm didn’t stop, he’d stray even further from the correct route, with a high chance of failing the assessment.

With a wry smile, Lin Huang made his decision and signaled for the Sand Butcher to stop.

Seeing the beast halt, Yin Hangyi hurried over and, watching Lin Huang slide down from the Sand Butcher’s arm, greeted him with a broad, ingratiating smile. “Brother Lin, thank heavens I found someone I know! If I hadn’t run into you, I’d probably have died out here in this godforsaken desert.”

“Weren’t you following the group ahead? How did you get off track?” Lin Huang asked, skipping the pleasantries.

“Don’t mention it! Last night, right after we set up camp, a sandstorm hit. Everyone scattered. I managed to find shelter for the night, but by morning I was completely disoriented.”

Lin Huang studied the chubby man’s face and decided he was telling the truth.

“Brother, I really didn’t expect you to be a Grand Tamer! Riding a Sand Butcher—now that’s impressive!” Yin Hangyi’s tone suddenly changed, adopting a pitiful look. “How about giving your brother here a ride? You wouldn’t just leave me to die in this wasteland, would you?”

“You won’t die; you can always press the emergency beacon,” Lin Huang replied seriously.

“That’s not an option—if I hit the beacon, I forfeit the assessment,” the chubby man protested, waving his hands.

“What’s more important, your life or the assessment?” Lin Huang raised an eyebrow.

“The assessment, of course!” the chubby man answered righteously.

For all his thick skin, Lin Huang couldn’t argue with him.

“I can take you, but on one condition.” He held up a finger, face solemn.

“Fine! Anything you say, as long as it doesn’t involve sharing a bed. I’m still a virgin and saving my first time for my future wife!” The chubby man’s reply was absurdly earnest.

“Get lost! With all that flab, just looking at you makes me feel greasy!” Lin Huang kicked at him.

“You don’t understand—this is called being cuddly. Lots of girls prefer someone like me; hugging me is comfortable!” the other retorted, dodging and defending himself.

“Enough. I don’t have time for this; I need to keep moving. My condition is simple: if I tell you not to talk, you don’t talk,” Lin Huang stated. His greatest torment was Yin Hangyi’s incessant chatter. Without this rule, he feared the man would drive him mad.

“What’s wrong with you? Why can’t I talk?” Yin Hangyi protested. The journey would take two or three days; the thought of keeping silent so long was unbearable.

“Forget it, then.” Lin Huang turned as if to leave, but the chubby man grabbed his arm. “Alright, alright! You win—I agree, okay?”

“In that case, from now on…” Lin Huang faced him and made a zipper-across-the-mouth gesture.

Yin Hangyi looked bewildered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means shut up!” Lin Huang had forgotten that this gesture wasn’t universal here.

Hearing the explanation, Yin Hangyi quickly clapped his hand over his mouth and waved to indicate his understanding.

“Alright, Tyrant, put him on your right shoulder.” Tyrant was not as gentle with Yin Hangyi as with Lin Huang—he pinched the man’s belt with two fingers and hoisted him up. With Lin Huang, he was much more considerate, offering his palm as a step and lifting him smoothly to his shoulder.

Noticing this disparity, Yin Hangyi couldn’t help but protest, “I formally object to this differential treatment! Equality is a basic right…”

Lin Huang silenced him with another zip-the-mouth gesture, and Yin Hangyi, remembering his predicament, obediently covered his mouth and sat down.

Once Lin Huang was settled, he patted the Sand Butcher. “Let’s go!”

The Sand Butcher leapt forward, striding eastward through the desert once more.