With its head severed, the carrion finally stopped moving. Though it was said these creatures were "immortal" and beyond reincarnation, that was just talk. If they were truly undying, why would anyone strive to become a god? Let a carrion bite you at death, and you'd live forever? What a joke.
Liu Guanan was gasping for breath, drained from the fight, but he knew this was no time to rest. He grabbed his chipped machete and began cutting open the carrion's belly—not out of cruelty, but to search for treasure.
Creatures in this world were bizarre. After death, a sac similar to a spider egg—called a meat capsule—would form inside their bodies. Breaking open this capsule might yield loot: daggers, boots, rings, even necklaces. It sounded absurd, but gamers would find it familiar. Just like loot drops in a game—only this was real life, not pixels.
While the carrion was alive, its flesh had been tough as iron. But in death, that power seemed to fade, and the meat softened. Liu Guanan's blade sank in easily, revealing a fist-sized meat capsule. A faint smile tugged at his bloodless lips.
Even though he'd seen plenty of these, each time still brought a spark of excitement. Carefully, he used the tip of his knife to lift the capsule. He had to be cautious—the carrion's blood was highly toxic. Just a drop could melt flesh down to bone. He wasn't eager to lose another piece of himself.
The capsule was remarkable. Though soaked in toxic filth, it emerged clean, dry, and completely unstained. Qin Hao, now indifferent to the wonder of it, used a small dagger to slice it open. A dozen copper coins spilled out.
Liu Guanan's smile vanished.
He hadn't expected high-tier loot from such a low-level creature, but hope always lingered. A bow, a blade, maybe even a secret manual or potion… But reality was cruel. Still, he quickly scooped up the sixteen copper coins. Not a bad haul—it was already better than yesterday. At least today's meal was covered.
He repeated the process on the second carrion. This time, the capsule held no coins, no equipment—just a single reddish bead the size of a pigeon egg. Strange symbols shimmered faintly on its surface. It radiated an unusual energy.
Liu Guanan's eyes widened. His heart raced.
A Corpse Dan!
This was exactly why he hunted carrion. They were slow, large, easy targets for a long-range fighter like him.
He remembered the time he'd tried killing a rooster. After three days and nights, the damn bird still wasn't dead. He was injured badly and someone else swooped in and stole the kill. Then he tried his luck with a hyena—within an hour, he lost nearly three pounds of flesh before a passing hunting party saved him.
After that, he stopped going solo and joined a team. More people meant more power, and things went well for a while. They managed to earn enough daily for a proper meal. But one day, after killing a bobcat, they fought over the loot and the group disbanded. Liu searched for a new team but found nothing.
In wild teams, fights over loot were common—and dangerous. Official teams were made up of tight-knit locals who didn't welcome strangers. Liu Guanan had no family, no connections. For days he wandered without results.
Then luck struck. He stumbled upon a giant rat—bigger than a dog—limping with an arrow through its throat. It was already dying, someone else's prey. Without hesitation, Liu finished it off before its hunter arrived. He looted a dagger—his current one—and sold the rat meat for thirty-eight coins. That night, he ate well.
That moment changed everything. He chose to become an archer and began hunting carrion. The graveyard was close, less crowded, and easier to return from than the deep forest.
He even scraped together ten coins to buy ten minutes of reading time at the only bookstore in the city, trying to memorize everything he could about carrion. He barely retained anything, but he did remember one thing:
Corpse Dan could be consumed. Once ingested, it granted immunity to corpse poison.
Without hesitation, Liu Guanan swallowed it.
Though it looked as hard as jade, it melted instantly on his tongue. A wave of coolness surged through his body. The strength sapped by corpse gas returned in an instant, and his mind cleared like a fog lifting. His wounds tingled. Cuts on his legs visibly closed up. With the poison resistance unlocked, his body's natural healing returned.
This world was strange. As long as the poison was gone, even serious injuries could recover completely.
Ignoring his now-healing legs, Liu turned back to the two corpses and cracked open their skulls. Inside, he found two white crystals the size of rice grains. These were the concentrated essence of the carrion—white crystals, formed at the moment of death.
He swallowed them both.
They were tasteless, but energy surged through him like a flood. His muscles visibly swelled, power coursing through his veins like a raging river. As a child, Liu had always been weak. But after taking white crystals for the first time—during the giant rat incident—his body evolved to match a normal adult. This was his second evolution.
He clenched a fist, estimating he could now hit with nearly 200 pounds of force. That was far above average.
He glanced down. The wound on his thigh had vanished, replaced with fresh skin. Dusk was falling fast. Time to wrap up.
Liu scavenged the area—looting from the previously defeated bodies. Not much to gain: most of the dead couldn't even handle a carrion, so they weren't exactly rich. He recovered twenty-eight coins, six rotted wooden swords, four broken staffs, and one ruined bow—though the bowstring was still good. Qin Hao salvaged it immediately.
The machete he'd used all day was trashed, likely worth only a few coins now. Still, today's haul was solid: forty-four coins in total. In the past, his best single-day earnings had been just seven.
Just as he was about to leave, he glanced at the carrion bodies again.
In this world, everything had value. Wood, stone, bone—even rot. Could carrion meat be sold? Not for food, of course, but what about poison-making? Liu knew toxic materials fetched a good price.
Before the Corpse Dan, he wouldn't have dared touch corpse meat. But now? He had immunity. And an idea.
Three hours later, Liu dragged two carrion corpses back to the city—or rather, Stone City, a humble trading settlement built around a pile of rocks.
Night had fallen, but the streets were still alive. Stalls lined both sides, filled with meager wares. Barter was common—few had money. When Liu appeared, hauling two rotting corpses behind him, he drew some stares, but no comments. This place had seen all kinds of weird things. Two corpses weren't that strange—not when someone once brought in a three-legged toad.
Medicine shop.
There was only one in the city, and it didn't even have a name—clearly a monopoly.
"Carrion meat?" the shop boy asked, unsure what to make of it. He called the shopkeeper.
The old man didn't spare Liu a glance. He examined the corpses carefully before speaking.
"If they were intact, I'd offer three gold coins. But the skulls are cracked, the bellies cut open, claws missing. I'll give you one silver each."
The broken skulls meant the white crystals were gone. Split bellies meant the meat capsules were taken. Those two parts were the most valuable. Liu's heart sank at the drop—from three gold to one silver each. That was a 300-fold difference.
As for the missing claws—he'd taken them to craft arrows.
"Deal," Liu muttered bitterly. He had no other buyers.
He sold both bodies, then took the damaged machete to a trader. Eleven coins—that's all he got. Damn corpse fluid had ruined a decent blade.
With his tasks done, he picked a safe place—and logged off.