That's right, Jing Shu assigned her pets by number, ranking them strictly according to their practical usefulness in her daily life. The smaller the number, the more valuable they were to her survival. Based on strength, utility, and overall contribution, the Sulfuric Acid Ant Queen was placed at No. 3. Her life was already nearing its natural end; however, her potential was too great to ignore.
That meant from now on, she would feed her No. 3 pet with Spirit Spring water every day to cultivate the Sulfuric Acid Ant Queen and extend her longevity.
Everyone who knew her understood that she didn't judge her pets by their looks or their raw, unrefined power. What mattered to her was what they could produce and how much concrete value they could bring to her stash.
Even if she somehow tamed a majestic tiger, it probably wouldn't make it into her top nine rankings. Tiger meat tasted famously bad; they couldn't lay eggs like poultry; and other than using the whip for soaking medicinal wine, the rest of the animal was practically useless. More importantly, a large predator like a tiger was a huge waste of precious food in the apocalypse.
Take her No. 4 pet, the Five-Step Snake. Its value was tremendous in the current environment. The snakes bred easily and quickly; their meat was delicious and nutritious; their gallbladders and skins had various medicinal uses; and even their venom could be extracted for hunting or defense. They could act as silent scouts, becoming Jing Shu's eyes in the wild. In emergencies, they were decent backup fighters as well.
So why was a dying Sulfuric Acid Ant Queen ranked above the versatile Five-Step Snake?
Jing Shu hesitated for a long time, looking at the creature. Was it really worth raising this queen when she was already at the end of her life? What if she died halfway through the process and all that Spirit Spring water went to waste? But after a series of quick mental experiments, she made her final decision.
First of all, from a purely industrial standpoint, the Sulfuric Acid Ant Queen's species had immense potential. The concentrated sulfuric acid her colonies could mass-produce daily was invaluable in the current state of the apocalypse. It could be used in nuclear energy development, new energy production, the creation of fertilizers, and large-scale soil treatment. In a world where every chemical was scarce, sulfuric acid was industrial gold.
Second, the ants themselves, once their acid was extracted, possessed powerful medicinal properties. They could fight inflammation, relieve chronic pain, detoxify the system, reduce swelling, and even replenish a person's energy and vitality. In this era of limited medicine, that made them a precious pharmaceutical ingredient.
Third, they were incredibly nutritious, rich in protein and essential amino acids. In the harsh conditions of the apocalypse, they were bound to become a luxury food source for those who could stomach them.
And last but not least, their combat ability was ridiculous. Sulfuric Acid Ants were particularly effective against slow-moving zombies and Darklife creatures infected with the virus.
In Jing Shu's long-term plan, they might even take on the terrifyingly evolved creatures that appeared five or six years after the apocalypse began. Outside of modern firearms, a swarm of Sulfuric Acid Ants stood at the very top of the food chain.
The best part was that they didn't waste food. They could grow by feeding on the corpses of enemies instead of requiring special feed. Though she still planned to give them red nematodes as a high-protein supplement to boost their growth.
The queen could lay dozens of eggs every single day. With No. 3 Spirit Spring water and some extra protein, that output could multiply tenfold—or even more.
But what finally convinced Jing Shu was that even though the queen was old, she had already gained a form of sentience. She wasn't sure if she was like the little snake spirit Tai Spot, but the queen could communicate with her on a basic level. She also wanted to test what effect Spirit Spring water had on creatures that were at the very brink of death.
Of course, the Ant Queen wasn't speaking Chinese; after all, this was America. Instead, it was that miraculous form of conscious communication that bypassed language entirely. Jing Shu could sense the queen's primal emotions through her slight movements.
When she placed the restless queen inside the safety of the Cube Space, the queen stiffened her legs, then stretched out in pure bliss against the floor. Jing Shu could almost feel her thoughts echoing in the void. It's divine here! I could die here and not even care. I love it. This is heaven!
When Jing Shu offered her a mouthful of the Spirit Spring, the queen's body convulsed as if struck by lightning, her many legs twisting and trembling. Jing Shu could practically hear her mental shriek. Don't stop! Keep going! I love this feeling! Don't stop!
Even a while later, the queen still twitched her antennae now and then, practically purring with satisfaction. It's amazing. I want more.
That was basically the gist of the agreement. When Jing Shu mentally told her, "If you become my pet and obey me, you can enjoy this every day," the queen didn't hesitate for a second. She surrendered her will completely without a shred of pride. Within minutes, she had fully accepted her new role as a pet ant.
Jing Shu tried to question her about the surroundings and potential dangers in the area, but the queen's mind was mostly mush. Her daily life for decades was just laying eggs and letting worker ants feed her. The only useful bit she shared was that she had lived here for forty years, moved the colony several times, and fought other Sulfuric Acid Ant colonies in brutal life-or-death battles—but she had survived them all.
Apparently, this part of the mountain range had appeared out of nowhere not long ago. Even the local creatures had no idea what had happened; they had been relocated by the shifting earth without realizing it. Which meant, if she wanted to get out of these mountains, she would have to do it the hard way.
Late at night, the Rubik's Cube spun faster and faster in her hands, the plastic clicking in the silence of the tent. Just when she was about to finish a side, Monkey's terrified scream came from outside the fabric. Jing Shu dropped the cube on the quilt and dashed out immediately.
Everyone woke up at once, their hands reaching for their weapons.
The dying campfire flickered weakly in the wind, casting a dim, orange light on the area just beyond the Sulfuric Acid Ant circle. The ground was crawling with thousands of dense black shapes, each half-buried in the loose soil. Their abdomens pulsed up and down in a rhythmic motion, and their sharp pincers snapped in the air. Jing Shu recognized them instantly.
Snake Spirit's face went pale in the firelight. "Earwigs! Why the hell are there so many of them here? They must have smelled the blood from the battle and came swarming in!"
For Jing Shu, this was the stuff of nightmares.
Tank scratched his head, looking down at the moving carpet of bugs. "They're just bugs, right? I will stomp a few."
Snake Spirit gave him a hard look. "Earwigs love to crawl into people's ears at night, lay their eggs in your skull, and eat your brain while you're still alive. If they don't kill you, they will drive you insane with the noise and the pain. Once these things show up, you can forget about sleeping ever again."
Jing Shu remembered hearing horrific stories from her past life. People would go to sleep during the mass migrations, only to wake up screaming, smashing their heads against stone walls, begging for the pain to stop. They would die horribly. Because nobody took the threat seriously at first, their corpses were often left by the roadside. Later, when those corpses burst open from the pressure, waves of tiny earwigs would crawl out and attack the next group of passing survivors.
That nightmare was now unfolding again. But this time, the Sulfuric Acid Ants went berserk.
Jing Shu let out a long yawn. "Let's catch a few more hours of sleep before we move. Don't worry, they won't come inside."
And just like that, the apocalypse had one less nightmare crawling around in the dark.
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Next I will call the ant queen as Yi Hou. 蚁后 (yǐ hòu) it literally how 'Ant Queen' in Chinese.