The scorpion demon hid at the entrance of the cave, secretly watching everything.
He hadn't left, and he couldn't really move much anyway.
Although the rot on his leg had been stopped, it still hurt terribly, with every step feeling like a knife's cut.
Moreover, he was unwilling to leave.
So many pills, piled up like a mountain, all being scattered to those pieces of trash?
If given to them, they wouldn't even be able to keep them; in the end, they would just be snatched away by other demons, so it would be better to give them all to him.
But he didn't dare to go out.
The little black rat was too strong; once the mist on that rat came out, he couldn't even move.
He could only hide at the cave entrance, watching with longing eyes.
He watched as those pills fell one by one into the rock cracks, into the hands of those weaklings, and were stuffed into their mouths.
The scorpion demon's heart began to stir; how could those small demons eat so greedily?
They were even eating until they cried?
Was it really that delicious?
The scorpion demon swallowed his saliva.
As he watched, he suddenly noticed something.
When those people scattered the pills, they weren't very guarded, especially the one in the black robe who seemed to be their leader, standing in the middle with his back turned.
The scorpion demon's heart rate quickened.
He looked at the ground.
Not far from his cave entrance, there was still a small pile of pills that no one had touched.
Those people scattered them too quickly; they threw too many in some places and too few in others, and this pile was simply extra.
It was only a few steps away from him.
The scorpion demon cautiously poked his head out; he looked at those people and saw that, fortunately, no one was paying attention to him.
He gnashed his teeth and dragged his injured leg, inching his way out bit by bit.
With every inch he moved, he stopped to see if those people had noticed.
They hadn't.
No one noticed.
He moved another inch.
He stopped again.
Still unnoticed.
He finally reached the pile of pills.
He quickly reached out, grabbed several pills at once, and stuffed them into his robe.
Then he quickly shrank back into the cave.
His heart was thumping wildly, as if it were about to jump out of his throat.
He waited for a while, and no one came after him.
He poked his head out again and looked at those people.
Still, no one was paying attention to him.
His courage grew.
He moved out again and grabbed another handful.
He shrank back again.
Still no one noticed.
He became even bolder.
This time he didn't shrink back; he just crouched by the pile of pills, desperately scooping them into his arms.
When his arms were full, he stuffed them into his sleeves; when his sleeves were full, he stuffed them into his mouth.
His cheeks puffed out until they were round, like a hamster's.
As he stuffed himself, he kept a wary eye on those people.
The one in the black robe seemed to glance over here.
The scorpion demon froze completely.
But that person only took one look before shifting his gaze away, continuing to scatter pills elsewhere.
The scorpion demon breathed a sigh of relief.
It seemed he hadn't been noticed.
His carapace was black, very similar to the color of the rocks in the cavern; his camouflage technique must be excellent.
The scorpion demon grabbed one last handful, stuffed the final few pills into his arms, and then turned and ran.
His leg still hurt, every step feeling like a knife's cut.
But he didn't dare stop.
He ran forward fiercely, not daring to look back at all.
Those pills in his arms were pressing against his chest, but he didn't feel any pain.
With this many, it was enough for him to eat for several months!
Even if he were caught and beaten again, it would be worth it!
He ran with all his might, all the way to the exit.
The exit was right ahead.
As long as he rushed out, ducked into the tunnels outside, and returned to his nest, he would be safe.
The scorpion demon increased his speed.
Then he crashed into something.
It was soft, sticky, and had a foul smell of rot.
The scorpion demon was stunned for a moment and looked up.
A figure was standing at the cave entrance.
Oh no, had that group found out he stole things and caught up to him?
The scorpion demon's expression turned fierce, and he instinctively lashed out with his tail hook, stabbing toward the figure.
The stinger sank in as if piercing a pile of mud.
The next second, a surge of intense pain came from the tip of his tail.
The scorpion demon found that his tail hook was rotting, and a diseased aura was even traveling up his tail toward his body.
Flesh was falling off, his carapace was shattering, and pus was seeping out.
The scorpion demon made a split-second decision, turning his other hand into a pincer and snipping off his own tail.
The severed tail fell to the ground, still twitching, before quickly rotting into a puddle of pus.
The scorpion demon staggered back, nearly fainting from the pain.
The pills in his arms scattered all over the ground, but he couldn't worry about that now.
With the help of the dim light in the cavern, the scorpion demon saw the appearance of the figure blocking his way.
It had a gray-green body, rotted beyond human recognition, with facial features blurred into a mess, leaving only a mouth that gasped open and shut.
A hundred corpse patchwork?
The color instantly drained from the scorpion demon's face.
How could it be such a thing?
It was over.
He had lived for nearly five hundred years and had seen the hundred corpse patchwork many times.
Each time he had watched from afar and run away immediately after.
He knew how terrifying this thing was.
It couldn't be killed.
If chopped to pieces, it could reassemble; if burned, it would crawl out from its mark again.
Furthermore, its entire body was filled with plague; a single touch would cause rot.
In the past, the hundred corpse patchwork had fallen into the Earth Dissolving Cave a few times.
Each time, many small demons had to die, using their flesh and blood to lure the thing out.
In the worst instance, over a hundred died before the thing was finally moved away.
And now, one was standing right in front of him.
He was alone.
His leg was crippled.
His tail was severed.
The scorpion demon was in despair.
He wanted to turn back and run, but those people were behind him.
He had stolen their pills; they certainly wouldn't let him go.
He wanted to rush forward, but the hundred corpse patchwork was in front of him.
A single touch meant death.
There was a wolf in front and a tiger behind.
He stood in the middle, his whole body trembling.
The hundred corpse patchwork moved again.
That mass of rotten meat walked toward him step by step, leaving a rotting footprint on the ground with every stride.
The scorpion demon took a step back.
Then another.
He backed up against the wall, with nowhere left to retreat.
The hundred corpse patchwork walked up to him and reached out.
That hand was rotted until only bone remained, with a few strands of rotten flesh hanging off it and pus dripping from the fingertips.
The scorpion demon closed his eyes.
Then he heard a loud shout.
"How the hell did you end up here!"
He opened his eyes.
The little black rat had rushed over at some point, standing between him and the hundred corpse patchwork.
The hand of that hundred corpse patchwork was wrapped in a layer of mist, unable to move.
Plague Rat looked back at him and glared, cursing, "What a hassle!"
Then he turned his head and reached out toward the hundred corpse patchwork.
Mist surged out, wrapping the hundred corpse patchwork entirely.
The hundred corpse patchwork struggled within the mist, its rotting body beginning to fester at an accelerated rate, falling off piece by piece.
Plague Rat clicked his tongue.
"Tough-skinned bastard."
Plague Rat used his Ghost Domain to wrap the hundred corpse patchwork into a ball of mist, then he turned to look at the scorpion demon and couldn't help but curse.
"What are you standing there for? Waiting to die?"
He reached out, and a clump of mist landed on the scorpion demon.
The scorpion demon shuddered, thinking the other party was going to silence him.
He was about to struggle, but in the next second, he found that the mist landing on him didn't corrode him; instead, it sucked away that rotting sensation within his body.
He looked down and saw that the newly infected wound was slowly stopping its rot.
Plague Rat retracted the mist and barked, "Scram!"
Then he led the mist ball and walked toward the cave entrance.
The scorpion demon stood in place, staring blankly at his back.
The little black rat had saved him?
Why would he save him?
He had just stolen so many pills; the rat should have killed him instead.
But not only did he not kill him, he even saved him.
The scorpion demon couldn't figure it out.
Rate on N.U.
