Famine 59: Survival of the Fittest

Liang Qingshuang tensed immediately.

Instinctively, he gripped the paper cup, taking a step back, then another, letting himself slip behind a row of shelves to hide.

Rustle rustle…
The shop ceiling’s climate-controlled ventilation blew softly as the bloodstained withered grass quivered, stretching steadily deeper into the store.

A couple more turns, and soon Chen Chunsheng would see him.

Liang glanced at the clerk—the latter was slouched behind the counter, seemingly intent on building a stick-fort out of oden skewers, showing not the slightest sign of taking charge.

His gun and other weapons weren’t here, and though his injuries had recovered, he still stood no chance against Chen Chunsheng.

Liang Qingshuang steeled himself, clenched his teeth, and walked over to the clerk, whispering, “Sir, there’s someone very dangerous in here.”

Nidhogg kept stacking his skewers without looking up and replied offhandedly, “He’s not that dangerous.”

Liang took a moment to process the meaning: Not that dangerous—not dangerous enough.

“He’ll kill me in here,” Liang said.

Nidhogg’s tone was utterly placid:
“What’s that got to do with me?”

Liang gritted his teeth. “I’m willing to give up my gown for you!”

Nidhogg’s eyes widened; he finally looked up. “Do I look like the sort to wear that kind of thing?”

Liang: “…”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Please, look—”

Nidhogg interrupted, “Don’t talk to me about things like that, go talk to the boss, I just work here.”

Liang’s teeth started to chatter as he bit down, drawing blood from his lower lip.

—There’s no other option.
He really had no other choice.

Rustle rustle…
The spring grass crept in, finally spreading throughout the convenience store, until it spotted Liang behind a shelf.

“Why give up, Qingshuang?” Chen Chunsheng’s voice rang from the void, tinged with a rueful, knowing amusement. “Look—you struggled so long, but the outcome’s the same as ever.”

“No one can save you. Not here, either.”

He’s heard everything I said to the clerk!
All escape routes closed, the speed of the murderous grass suddenly surged. Blood-stained blossoms opened by the dozen, thorn-studded vines shot straight for Liang.

This was Chen Chunsheng’s Chosen ability—[Spring Born to the Wasteland].

Liang ducked, ice blade flashing, his movements balletic and flexible as he dodged the first wave with the help of the shelves’ cover. He darted between the aisles, escaping danger by a hair’s breadth.

The maze-like shelf layout let him hide again.

“Hehehehe… you think these shelves will keep me out?” Chen Chunsheng snickered.

Whoosh—!

The bloodstained vines suddenly surged upward, shooting straight to the ceiling, their shadows falling across Liang. At their tips, an eyeball peered over the shelf, snaking down to dangle before Liang’s face.

“Found. You.”

Another vine, bristling with toxic spores, swept across at head height!

“—!” Liang squeezed his eyes shut and braced his arms over his head, shielding his face with all his might.

—Three seconds, five seconds.

The pain he expected never came.

Liang Qingshuang cautiously opened his eyes to see the clerk standing in front of the vine.

Liang’s heart leapt—he hurried to warn him:
“Sir, don’t touch—his grass is poisonous.”

He never finished—Nidhogg took two steps forward, marching right into the poisonous grass and toxic spores!

Too late! Liang’s pupils shrank.

Nidhogg acted as if nothing was amiss, reaching out to pat the huge vine.

“Do you know…”
Nidhogg uttered slowly,
“how long… I’ve spent… stocking these shelves?”

Huh? That’s the focus? Liang was thrown for a loop.

Was it his imagination, or were the clerk’s words positively dripping with bitterness, every syllable a silent lament?
…Even though the shelves looked like they’d been ransacked by dogs.

“Take your fight outside the aisles, don’t damage the shelves. I’m a tolerant guy, but don’t push it,” Nidhogg said.

Meanwhile, Chen Chunsheng hesitated.
This convenience store was mysterious; the clerk even more unfathomable… Should I retreat, for now?

But if I don’t strike inside, I’ll have to wait for Liang to come out. With all this food and drink, who knows how long she’ll hole up? The hot spring blood ritual was still running—the sacrifices unconsumed, every extra night increased the risks. He couldn’t afford to wait.

As he weighed his options, a system prompt sounded in Chen Chunsheng’s mind.

[Ding! Your withered toxin has successfully invaded.]
[Invasion success rate: 100%.]

[Target: █]

“Ah.” Nidhogg realized his nose was bleeding a bit, frowning down at it.

What’s going on—he thought this guy was tough, but got hit?
Chen Chunsheng was overjoyed.
His withered toxin was his innate aura, a favored tool for probing an enemy’s strength in a confrontation.

Poison resistance was an attribute all players possessed. At Chen’s level, even the weakest Chosen had at least 25%, and veterans were often at 50% or higher. Anyone with zero resistance must be a low-level nobody.

With 100% toxin invasion, within half a minute Liang’s organs would begin to rot—at least one would be destroyed!

He hesitated no longer. With a sweeping gesture, a vine as thick as a torso whipped toward the clerk, lashing out like a whip!

In Chen Chunsheng’s view, Nidhogg was already a dead man.

But that expected thrill never came.

Nidhogg, one hand still in his pocket, lifted his eyelids, exerted the faintest effort, and with just one hand clamped down on the trunk-thick vine. Effortless, relaxed—his muscles didn’t even tense.

Wait! No! Chen’s heart skipped a beat.

“Sigh.” Nidhogg shook his head. “Tired of being human—why must folks insist on being corpses?”
“I work for just 700 credits a day, and now they have me cleaning up this mess? What a stingy boss.”

Golden light blazed across Nidhogg, and the halos and effects of Chen Chunsheng’s Chosen ability were torn apart like tissue paper. Chen was yanked by the wrist, forced back into human form, only his lower half still fused to the floor.

With a sickening creak, Nidhogg ripped Chen from the boards, uprooting him entirely!

Chen’s face blanched in terror: “Nononono—!!”

Boom!!!
Nidhogg ignored his pleas, swinging his arm to hurl him down the central aisle—Chen flew like a ragdoll, crashing through the glass doors and out onto the ice.

The glass panels flapped once, twice, then slowly swung shut.
Liang Qingshuang stared, dumbstruck.

Nidhogg hadn’t even taken his right hand from his pocket.

He had no intention of letting Chen off. Loosening his shoulders, Nidhogg strode for the exit…

…
He couldn’t open it.

Overhead, the PA sounded: [Attention, employee. Your consumption is 107 oden skewers and 8 fried chicken, total 3610 credits. Employee discount applies—2527 credits due. Please pay.]

Nidhogg: “…”

Liang: “…”

Watching from the farm, Si Zhiyan: “……”

So that’s why the oden disappeared so fast.
Just how much did he eat last night?

And he calls me a stingy boss?

Nidhogg coughed, flashed his wristband for payment, and shouldered open the door.

Out on the icefield, Chen Chunsheng had already fled, transforming into spring grass to escape as far as possible.

What a nightmare! This was a major miscalculation—he’d picked the wrong target!

And yet… Wait—how could this guy be so strong with 0% poison resistance? The system reported his organs were rotting—why was he perfectly fine?

The system couldn’t lie. Poison entered, took effect—those were facts. But…
No use—he’d have to abandon Liang for now. Four hundred remaining would do. In ten days, the sacrifices at the hot spring blood array would be used up. Then, when he evolved, he’d return to settle this score!

With that in mind, he cheered up, hope reigniting.

Go with the flow. In this world, everyone’s an enemy—more deaths can only be a good thing.

After all, those who accomplish great deeds don’t fuss over details. Survival of the fittest—the law of the wasteland, kill the saints first in the apocalypse!

At that moment, a gale howled, fire exploded, and the ice cracked everywhere!

As a spring grass, Chen Chunsheng was forced back into human form, suddenly falling into the depths below.

How did he catch up so fast?! In a panic, Chen whipped out his vines, barely snagging the edge of the ice and hauling himself up.

“Pwah!!”
He rolled onto the ice, gasping for air.

In the morning mist, he looked up to see a giant dragon soaring above.
The muscled figure of a man, arms folded, a Norse god come to life, looked down from on high, his lips curled with a faint, mocking smile.

The aura pressed down, making it impossible to lift his head.

The apocalypse dragon.

One look at that form and Chen Chunsheng knew instantly who he faced.

“Nidhogg… You’re the Nidhogg from the broadcast!!”
His face twisted.
“It’s not fair!! How can your poison resistance be 0%? The system said your organs are melting—how can you…”

Seeing Nidhogg’s snort of laughter, Chen realized what a stupid question he’d asked—the answer was out of reach.

Chen composed himself, bowed his head and pleaded, “I’m sorry, Mr. Nidhogg! I didn’t even mess up your shelves, I didn’t have the chance to do anything! I’m willing to apologize, even offer all my possessions, to make amends…”

“That’s your last words?” Nidhogg yawned. “A bit bland for a swan song, don’t you think?”

Chen finally snapped, shrieking: “Why?! Why kill me?! Just a bit of talk, I didn’t do anything!”

Nidhogg flicked his fingers, sneering: “Because I’m stronger than you, obviously.”

If I want you dead, I kill you. Need I explain?

BOOM!!

Flames exploded upward, swallowing Chen Chunsheng.
He fought desperately, vines and flowers thrashing crazily in every direction—but no matter how he tried to escape, there was no way out from that world-consuming fire.

The ice melted, mist scattered, charred grass screamed, twisted, and at last crumbled to black ash.

—Chosen Ranking, #51: [Spring Born to the Wasteland] has fallen.

Nidhogg blew out a languid breath, stretched, and prepared to head back.

Crack.

In the flickering mist behind him, a shadow appeared—Si Zhiyan.

“Ah,” Nidhogg wiped his nose. “Hey there, boss.”
“Not loafing, promise—cleaning up mess is just part of the shift.”

After eating so much, he genuinely felt a bit sheepish.

As usual, Si Zhiyan’s figure floated in the mist, smiling faintly: “It’s fine. Good work.”

Then, quietly, he pointed out, “He said your organs were melted.”

“Hm? Ah, that really happened,” Nidhogg rolled his shoulders, smiling as if it were nothing. “No big deal—they’re already healed.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Si Zhiyan asked.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Nidhogg’s eyes narrowed into slits, waving the issue away. “Got used to it already.”

“…”
Si Zhiyan gazed at him.
Unexpectedly, a fleeting thought surfaced, as if someone else had once spoken to him in the same way.

A subtle sense of familiarity spread between them.

Nidhogg’s expression gradually grew more serious, his gaze settling on Si Zhiyan. Slowly, hesitantly, he asked:
“Hey, have I… met you somewhere before?”

Si Zhiyan searched his mind, but could remember nothing to answer with.

In the silence, suddenly, a voice sounded beside them.

“Excuse me, are you the owner of this convenience store?”

They both turned.

Standing at the edge of the fractured ice abyss, dressed in a crimson gown, the tall, slender man clutched his skirt, barely upright in the freezing wind.

It was Liang Qingshuang. He’d reached them.

Liang pressed his lips together, looked at Si Zhiyan, and suddenly dropped to his knees!

“Thank you both, for slaying the demon and saving my life. I will never forget this debt.”

“Beyond that, I… I have one more request.”

With a tear, Liang yanked the skirt free, lifting it with both hands.
It was a blazing red, layer upon layer, adorned with dazzling gems and gold, thrown into vibrant relief by the mist-sun.

Liang Qingshuang looked up at Si Zhiyan and said, “This gown’s train is set with 782 amplifying gems, covering every facet of augmentation.”
“It represents my savings of seven years, worth about two hundred and fifty thousand credits.”

“As a deposit, I offer it to you. All I ask… is that you help me… save my brothers!”

The skirt he wore, clutched, fled in, froze to the ice, and never gave up—so this was what it was for.