Chapter 26: Arrest

**Title: "The Wolf’s Claw and the Game of Lies"**

Chen Zhuo held the newly acquired *Wolf Spirit Talon* in one hand, the iron sword in the other. A prompt flashed on his screen: *Fuse?*

“Yes.”

As the word left his lips, a burst of light erupted from his palms. The talon slowly drifted toward the blade, merging seamlessly—fusing into a single weapon. The raw, untamed power within the talon seeped into the steel, etching a unique pattern onto the blade: jagged, wolf-like runes that pulsed faintly with latent fury.

When the glow faded, a new weapon stood in Chen Zhuo’s grip.

Sharper than before. He swung it once through the air—a clean arc, slicing through the stillness with a whisper of wind.

“Same quality. Just… sharper. Blood effect? Still gotta test that.”

He tucked the iron sword away, already planning a quick shower to wash off the blood crusting across his body. Then came a message from Du Xin.

> **Du Xin:** How the hell do you even expect me to get my necklace back? What do you want? Give me a straight answer.

Chen Zhuo was about to reply with a lazy joke and vanish into the shower when he caught sight of himself in the dim light—the blood smeared across his arms, chest, face. A grin tugged at his lips.

He typed:

> **Chen Zhuo:** I just got attacked by a Crimson Entity. I’m barely alive. You’ll never see your necklace again.

> **Chen Zhuo:** [Photo]

The image showed him—arms and torso painted crimson, face streaked with dried blood. Through the mess, you could still make out the sharp angles of a handsome, boyish face. It looked like someone who’d been dragged through hell and barely crawled out.

“Ah!”

Du Xin had seen plenty of bloody kills before—hunting animals, no big deal. But this? Even she, with her iron nerves, felt a wave of nausea hit her.

> **Chen Zhuo:** I’m on my last breath. Could you V-me a med kit? Help me survive. I’ll repay you tenfold when I’m back on my feet.

She stared at the photo—his eyes half-lidded, skin pale beneath the gore. He looked like death warmed over.

After a long pause, she sighed and sent the trade.

> **Trader: Du Xin**
> **Item: Med Kit**
> **Required: None**

Chen Zhuo blinked. He hadn’t expected her to actually send it. Was she serious? Or did she not get the joke?

Back when her best friend analyzed the situation, Du Xin had concluded: *Not a bad guy. Just bored. Likes messing with people for fun.*

Now, rereading the exchange, she realized—yeah, that was exactly what this was.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew he wasn’t actually dying. If he were, he wouldn’t have typed all that. That tone? Pure mockery. But still—those wounds weren’t fake. The blood wasn’t staged. He’d been in a real fight. Maybe not fatal, but definitely hurt.

So she handed over the med kit. Not as a favor. As repayment. For the time he saved her life back in the ruins.

> **Chen Zhuo:** You’re not gonna try to steal my necklace back now?

> **Du Xin:** You really think everyone’s as selfish as you?

> **Chen Zhuo:** Wow. So touched.

> **Du Xin:** Then stop stalling and give me my necklace back.

> **Chen Zhuo:** I’m going to sleep now.

“Ugh, such a child,” she muttered, slamming her phone shut.

---

Meanwhile, Chen Zhuo rinsed himself under a cold stream, scrubbing until the scent of iron vanished completely. He slipped into bed, wrapped in a simple green-tier cotton shirt and pants—plain, functional, nothing fancy. The clothes he’d brought from Earth? Long gone. Stashed away. Probably the only physical piece of Blue Star he’d ever keep.

---

**December 17**

“Another day, another fresh start.”

Since his body had undergone that sudden surge in strength, waking up wasn’t a struggle anymore. He rose earlier than the rooster, and if this kept up, he might actually become the legendary *nuclear-powered donkey* people whispered about in survival circles.

“Happiness points are full again. More than I can spend. Seriously, I’ve got too much.”

“Steel is at 26. Today, I’ll definitely scrape together the last 14.”

A plain, unremarkable roast deer steak. A soft leather armor. Weapon in hand. Out the door.

He activated *Bio Scan*.

“Huh. A monster right outside my gate?” He narrowed his eyes at the red dot.

Then—cold sweat.

“No. Wait.”

His heart skipped.

“That’s not a monster. That’s another survivor. Bio Scan should show green flickers for creatures. This red dot… it’s centered right on *me*. Same position as my own location.”

His gaze instinctively darted toward the tree line where Ma Yu was hiding.

Chen Zhuo forced himself to act casual—like he was admiring the view—turning his head side to side, pretending to take in the scenery.

*Did he stumble upon my shelter by accident? Or has he been tailing me all along?*

*If it was accidental, why not just walk up and say hello? Sure, things are getting chaotic, but we’re not all monsters yet.*

*So he must’ve followed me here. Last time I left the shelter was yesterday. He probably tagged me during the ruins run.*

*Staying hidden overnight? Definitely up to something. Didn’t attack because he didn’t know how many people I had. Too risky.*

*Well then…*

Chen Zhuo decided to play along.

He went hunting—just like normal.

Walking, scanning, watching the bio tracker.

Sure enough, as soon as he took two steps, the red dot followed.

> **Ma Yu:** He left the shelter. Watched him all day. Only one person moving.

> **Yue Kaiyun:** Follow him. Send me the coordinates. We’re coming in.

Once they confirmed Chen Zhuo was alone, they made their move.

They trailed him all the way to the back hills.

Then—suddenly—Chen Zhuo broke into a sprint, as if he’d spotted something ahead.

Ma Yu, far behind, couldn’t afford to lose this prize. He pushed forward, lungs burning.

Ten minutes later…

“Where the hell is he? Did he actually get away?” Ma Yu leaned against a tree, gasping for air.

“You’re looking for me?”

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Ma Yu spun around—Chen Zhuo stood there, calm, almost amused.

“Y-you—”

*Slap!*

Before Ma Yu could speak, Chen Zhuo cracked him across the face.

“Trying to rob me?”

“N-no! Misunderstanding! I just saw another survivor’s shelter—I was curious, wanted to meet them!”

Ma Yu clutched his cheek, pulling out his usual line—used every time he’d been caught snooping.

Most survivors would’ve bought it. But Chen Zhuo wasn’t interested.

“Show me your chat logs.”

“I—I can’t. That’s private. Personal data—”

*SCREECH.*

A scream tore through the forest.

Ma Yu never saw it coming. One second, he was talking. The next—his left forearm was severed, lying in the dirt.

Chen Zhuo stood over him, blade dripping.

“You still don’t get it, do you? I wasn’t *asking*. I was *commanding*. You ignored me. So now…”

Ma Yu’s mind blanked. All he could think was *run*.

But then Chen Zhuo spoke—quiet, deadly.

> “You’re not leaving.”

And in that moment, Ma Yu realized: he wasn’t just hunted.

He was already dead.