"Hungry."
"Hungry."
Bai Yun stood at the edge of the Calamity Zone, repeating the two syllables over and over.
He met the insect for the first time on his second day in the Calamity Zone. Beside him was a rookie trainer, clad in leather gear, with a thick beard.
The man's rough face was etched with deep lines, his dark eyes glinting faintly.
"Xiao Yun, today you'll hunt the black insects alone," the man said in an encouraging tone.
"Go on, I know you can do it."
Bai Yun stared nervously at the insect before him.
It was palm-sized, its jet-black shell shimmering with a faint blue glow. Its six legs scraped against the ground with a crisp *click-click-click*. It stopped at his feet, its antennae twitching gently, as if sizing up the intruder.
Fear contorted his face.
"Aaaaah!"
"Why did I even come here to kill bugs?!"
Bai Yun gripped his sword, the tip trembling—so much so that it hovered slightly in the air, frozen between movement and stillness, as if he had turned to stone.
His mind went blank. He could not remember anything. His dark eyes locked onto the black insect as it slowly crawled up from his feet.
Their eyes met—both black, as if they were kin.
Then came a sharp *thud*. A kick slammed into his stomach. He felt the soft flesh give way, and with a howl of wind, he was sent flying into a tree, collapsing to the ground. The tree swayed dizzily, a few leaves drifting down before his face.
"Aaaaah!"
His senses snapped back, breaking the strange connection.
He scrambled back in terror.
His heart raced, as if he were having an allergic reaction.
As he retreated, he tripped over a black, round object.
The insect let out a cry:
"Gah-gah-gah-guh!"
Somehow, Bai Yun thought he understood the hidden meaning in the sounds.
All around him, noises erupted. Then, through the daze, he heard the trainer's rough voice, jolting him awake.
He looked down and saw it was a coiled-up insect.
There were many types of insects.
The weakest of them all
was the coiled insect before him.
It had crawled up to his left foot.
Thirty centimeters long, it could wrap around a person's leg and slowly grind it to pieces.
"Bai Yun, calm down!" the trainer's voice rang in his ear.
"Calm down my ass!" Bai Yun shouted, trying to psyche himself up.
He watched the black insect leap into the air, wobbling mid-flight.
*Get away, get away!* He swung his sword wildly, sharp flashes cutting through the air. A glint of light caught the trainer's eye.
The trainer shook his head.
The blade swept at the insect's body but missed every time. The insect landed, its claws digging firmly into the boy's pants leg.
He watched it crawl slowly toward his face.
It climbed onto his chest.
"You holding up?" The trainer walked over and grabbed the insect by the head.
The coiled insect had two antennae on its head, flailing wildly, slapping against Bai Yun's face, brushing over the fine hairs on his skin.
Bai Yun mumbled in a daze, "Thanks."
The trainer squeezed hard. The insect let out a pitiful squeak, *crunch-crunch*.
"Want me to do it this time? Show you how?"
The boy thought of the electronic bills he'd received at the start of the month: city entry fees, mortgage payments, his parents' medical bills… He knew he had to pull himself together.
"No, don't kill it. This is my prey. I have to finish it."
"Let me do this myself. I have to stand up."
Bai Yun's strong muscles tensed, surging with terrifying power. He flipped through the air and leaped up.
The trainer tossed the coiled insect aside. It spun through the air, seemingly out of Bai Yun's reach.
Bai Yun grabbed his sword. He closed his eyes, turning all hesitation and guilt into unwavering resolve. His will fused into the blade, turning it into a flash of yellow that sliced through the air. The coiled insect was split in mid-air, falling to the ground.
Its tan body burst open. Fine juices oozed out, its segmented bones snapping apart like disconnected joints.
Bai Yun raised his sword and stabbed sideways into the insect's head.
The moment the tip pressed against the hard shell, it was like piercing an overripe berry with a toothpick. Yellow-black fluid trickled down the blade. The insect's six legs twitched.
Bai Yun stood there, gasping for breath.
"It's not dead yet. Finish it," the trainer said, a faint smile in his voice.
The boy stared at the dying insect, bleeding out on the ground, and felt only pity.
"Sorry," he whispered.
He stabbed again. The force of the blow shattered the shell, splattering yellow-black liquid onto his face.
"Aah!" he yelped, the sound shrill and ridiculous.
"Hahahaha!" The middle-aged man burst out laughing, doubling over.
"This is why I love training newbies!"
He pulled out a gray cloth and wiped the boy's cheek, keeping an eye on the insect's corpse to make sure it didn't move.
An emptiness washed over the boy after the kill, thick and sticky like the insect's fluid, clinging to his heart.
The fluid felt stuck to his chest, impossible to shake off—but as time passed, the heaviness in his heart would fade.
It began to rain. Light rain fell from the overcast sky. The wilderness was always unpredictable.
As if performing a ritual, Bai Yun dug a small grave and buried the insect's body, taking its core.
He walked to the grave, bowed deeply, and pressed his palms together. The rain washed over the back of his hand, the black blood seeping into the soil.
The middle-aged man watched him, then bowed too.
"You're something else, feeling sorry for an insect," the trainer teased. "People in the city see insects as filth; they won't even go near them."
Bai Yun didn't reply. He thought of a rainy night long ago, a girl's cries. Since then, he'd always felt something strange toward insects. Maybe he was afraid she'd end up like that.
The trainer said calmly, "The past is history. The future is unknown. We don't need to mourn yesterday, nor fear tomorrow. We must live in today, in the space between past and future—only then can we do what must be done now, so tomorrow holds hope."
"A hunter must learn this. Don't dwell on the past; focus on the present."
"Sounds rehearsed. You didn't come up with that, did you?"
The trainer ruffled Bai Yun's hair.
"You kid. I don't know if I should call you smart or rude."
He looked at the setting sun in the distance.
"It's what my teacher told me. He didn't know who said it first, either."
Bai Yun didn't fully understand, but staring at the insect's grave being washed by the rain, the trainer's words… made him feel a little better.
The rain fell from the sky. Flowers drank the rain and bloomed brighter. The land remained mostly unchanged—still a vast desert, starved of water, clinging to the edge of survival, ready to fall into endless death at any moment.
"Uncle, who was your teacher?"
"Him? A legend in the Calamity Zone—one of the Top Ten Hunters, Aiken."
The boy thought for a moment.
"Never heard of him."
"Aiken was a *True Man*."
What is a True Man?
The world called him the Immortal Elder, the Man Who Lived as Long as Heaven.
"A spirit of heaven and earth, pure yang, never dying—that is a True Man."
"Back in the day, he only taught me one thing."
"Unwavering will."
"What good is that?"
"To walk the path, you need unshakable will. No matter life or death, you must hold fast to your heart—only then can you keep going on the path you started."
"What's a Path-Walker?"
"Kid, do you know what *will* is?"
"Will is the direction of one's heart. Its name is resolve."
"What the Buddha calls an ordinary man is not truly an ordinary man; that is merely its name."
"What is called will is not truly will; that is merely its name."
"Those with unshakable will break through the limits of their spirit amid life-and-death crisis, reaching the Ultimate Realm."
"What's the Ultimate Realm?"
"The beginning of unlocking one's Domain."
"What the Buddha calls the world is not truly the world; that is merely its name."
"It means the laws of the world are solidified within oneself."
"You've got a lot to learn, kid."
---
One year later.
Spring flowers bloomed across the hills, covering all traces of black blood.
Bai Yun stood in the same spot, pressing his palms together deeply. The gesture was identical to a year ago—but this time, there was no guilt, only familiarity.
He pulled out a small speaker and played a recording of calamity sounds. The distorted waves spread across the empty wilderness, like an invitation.
He turned it off at once. Illusions flickered in his eyes.
Bai Yun shook his head, clearing his daze.
Swarming black insects rushed toward him from all directions.
Bai Yun poured out gallons of gasoline.
He stared at the dense mass of insects in the pit, recognizing four types.
Daze Insect.
Wind Drift Insect.
Luck Insect.
Coiled Insect.
The Daze Insect was a favored type—most other insects wouldn't attack it. It had a hypnotic eye on its forehead that could cast illusions. Even powerful insects could be hypnotized into rampaging. Humans sometimes used them for hypnotherapy.
The Wind Drift Insect had a fluid, blue body marked with wind patterns, like graffiti from a hip-hop knight. Its body was used as building material—even the tower of Skywater City was made from it.
Bai Yun remembered it so clearly because of the girl who'd smiled at him from that tower before jumping.
The Luck Insect grew twisted, like a gnarled tree, with strange branches that were used for luck charms—hence its name.
The Coiled Insect was weak, hardly dangerous unless swarmed; even an ordinary person could kill one alone.
They greedily sucked up the gasoline, their shells scraping against each other in a scalp-prickling chorus. Low-level insects' hunger for energy overrode their sense of danger. Even knowing it was a trap, they threw themselves forward.
Bai Yun struck a match and tossed it onto the Luck Insect.
The pit was soaked with nearly ten barrels of fuel.
*Fwoosh!* The entire area erupted in flames. Blue fire danced like wild spirits, reaching out fiery hands to seize the black insects. They thrashed in the fire, shells cracking with sharp pops, until they turned to ash.
After a long burn, the fire roasted the insects until they smelled faintly of something edible—like a mix of long worms and pork, tainted by the stench of burnt shell.
"Kinda hungry," Bai Yun muttered, rubbing his stomach. He waited half an hour.
He sat on his motorcycle and checked his phone.
Slowly, most of the corpses burned away, leaving thumb-sized crystals behind.
His radar beeped: Black Insect Crystal +100.
To survive, the boy hunted these weak, endless black insects day after day in the wilderness.
Black insects were truly weak. Even an untrained ordinary person could kill one alone with a sword and courage.
Their only terror was their near-infinite reproduction. If they gathered in large enough numbers, they attracted higher-level predators, triggering unmeasurable disasters.
"If only I could find a Disaster-Class insect corpse…" Bai Yun daydreamed. "Even after paying 20% tax, I'd have enough to pay off months of debt."
But luck wasn't on his side.
He bowed his head and continued collecting his spoils.
Behind him, an insect slowly crawled up. It leaped into the air, three meters away, diving straight for his head.
Bai Yun didn't turn around. He flipped his sword backward and stabbed upward. The segmented insect was pierced clean through.
He flicked his wrist, tossing it into the burning pit. Ash and glowing embers flew up; the insect's segments burned red-hot.
Bai Yun poked at a bloated insect with his sword. *Pop.* Undigested semi-liquid matter spurted out, mixed with black blood and green intestinal fluid, splattering all over his pants.
"Gross!"
"Is this a Fat Insect? So much goop."
He shook his sword hard, trying to fling off the sticky mess. He swung too hard, and the goop arced perfectly, splattering right onto the clean clothes sticking out of his backpack.
"Aaaaaah! Am I an idiot?!"
He sniffed the clothes. They reeked.
"Great. Both my clothes and spare ones are ruined." He frowned, his bright smile fading like clouds covering the sun. "Might as well wear pajamas to hunt tomorrow."
He looked up at the clear sky after rain. The blue was pure enough to wash away all filth. Sunlight broke through the clouds, warm yet distant.
Whatever. Keep collecting crystals. Clothes are cheap anyway.
He comforted himself, as if persuading the hesitant, weak part of himself.
His hands kept working, but his mind wandered.
"Should I find a teammate?" He thought of the squads at the Hunter Association—clear division of labor, high efficiency.
But he decided against it. News reported "logistics embezzling funds" and "squad infighting over loot" every three days. Besides, he was socially anxious, terrible at talking to people. And with his current income, he couldn't afford a full-time logistics member.
He checked his radar. The number of insect life signals was down to a few blips. The area was mostly clear.
He pulled out a crumpled plastic bag from the bottom of his backpack, holding it carefully. Inside was a thermos—soup his mom had made him.
Next to it was a snack from the town gate: a flatbread, one federal coin.
The flatbread was flame-baked, made with ground insect corpses. Cheap—city folk refused to eat insects, so it was mainly for hunters out in the wild.
He sat on his motorcycle, facing the setting sun, and took small bites. The bread was a little hard, but the sesame scent lingered, the wheat sweet still there. When he bit down, insect juice burst out—sweet, yet strange, tasting like ripe crab.
Bai Yun had never tasted anything like it before.
"Exotic flavor," he murmured.
He closed his eyes and chewed slowly.
When he was little, his dad had taken him fishing by a river like this. Back then, his dad wasn't sick, still laughed, still made up silly excuses when he didn't catch anything: "The fish are having a meeting underwater. They'll bite when it's over."
He hadn't believed him, but he'd pretended to—because his dad's silly stories made him laugh.
"Yeah right, you just didn't catch any."
He stood up and walked to the riverbank, flicking crumbs into the water. A school of cloud fish swam over, drifting like clouds in the water.
He washed his hands.
With a single stroke, he stabbed his sword through a fish's head. Blood bloomed in the water, bright and fresh.
The happiest part of his day was grilling a fresh, spicy fish.
A small fire crackled to life. The flames glowed deep red, the heat dyeing the surroundings.
The cloud-like fish puffed up, revealing tender white flesh.
One bite—fresh, spicy, juice exploding. A pinch of salt brought out the umami, bright and thrilling.
After eating, he wrapped the leftover fish in the plastic bag, tied it tight, and stuffed it back into his backpack. He swung his leg over his off-road motorcycle, started the engine, and rode off.
The setting sun dyed the sky crimson. Light filtered through the clouds, stretching the shadow of his backpack on the back seat into a long, thin line.