Translator: AnubisTL
"Mm."
Chen Jiang glanced at the other wounds on Scar Dog's body, fell silent for a moment, then sat down on a clod of earth beside him, gazing at the corpses before them. He spoke as if casually, "As long as you're okay. Don't rush into things next time."
"Hey, Brother Jiang..." Scar Dog couldn't help but gasp for breath, his breathing growing rapid. He looked up at the distant sunset, feeling a strange ache all over his body. He tried to distract himself by talking.
"Remember that meal we had with the Cold Wolf Gang boss in City 18 today?"
"The food was so bland, it almost tasted like bird droppings."
"Do you remember when we worked as waiters at that fancy Huaiyang cuisine restaurant back on Blue Star?"
"Yeah, I remember." Chen Jiang nodded, lit another cigarette, and placed it between Scar Dog's lips.
"Good lord..." Scar Dog shakily took the cigarette, didn't even puff, just held it between his fingers as he stared at the distant sunset, murmuring in a daze, "That restaurant's dishes were ridiculously expensive. A single lion's head meatball cost hundreds of yuan."
"A chicken wing stuffed with shark fin could sell for nearly ten thousand yuan."
"At the time, I thought, 'It's just a chicken wing! Something you can get for a few yuan at a street stall. How could it cost so much?' Later, I learned it was because it was stuffed with shark fin."
"The private rooms were filled with high-society types."
"They were all dressed in suits and ties, barely touching the dishes on the table. Many of them got up one by one to offer toasts."
"And we just stood there, quietly watching them."
"Brother Jiang, do you know what I was thinking then?"
"I do."
Chen Jiang glanced at the half-inch-long ash on Scar Dog's cigarette and said nothing more.
"I was thinking..." Scar Dog's voice grew faint, his breathing becoming rapid and unfocused. "I was thinking, 'What the hell do these bastards do? How do they have so much money?'"
"Why don't we?"
"Someday, I'll have money too. I'll sit at that table, not stand on the sidelines."
"I want to be rich."
"I want to taste that ten-thousand-yuan chicken wing stuffed with shark fin. What does it even taste like?"
"Is it really worth that much?"
"Later... later, my brother and I finally got rich."
"And the first thing you did, Brother Jiang, was take me to that restaurant and order every single one of their most expensive dishes."
Scar Dog couldn't help but grin, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth as he turned his head to watch the gradually darkening sunset. He chuckled softly.
"I remember that scene so clearly."
"I remember us sitting in that private room like a pair of nouveau riche, cursing every bite. 'What kind of garbage is this? It's so bland it tastes like piss!'"
"Huaiyang cuisine is truly awful."
"Not a single dish appealed to me, especially that ten-thousand-yuan chicken-wrapped shark fin. I didn't even like that."
"But I still remember how I felt back then."
"I had finally reached the position I had always looked up to."
"Come on," Chen Jiang said, shaking his head with a smile. "You seemed to enjoy the lion's head meatballs. I saw you eat several of them—a few hundred yuan each."
"I was just starting my business back then, barely scraping by. You blew over ten thousand yuan on that one meal."
"I was hurting for days after that."
"Heh."
Scar Dog laughed, his breathing growing shallow and his body swaying weakly as he gazed at the sinking sun. "Brother Jiang, you know me."
"I'm afraid of death, but I'm even more afraid of being poor."
"I've had enough of living on scraps, groveling for scraps, living at the mercy of others."
"Whether on Blue Star or in this world."
"I, Scar Dog, refuse to live like a lowly ant."
"What I really want is to sit at that table, like a nouveau riche, casually critiquing dishes worth tens of thousands of yuan as if they were chicken bones—utterly tasteless!"
"For that, I'd gladly die."
"Alright, alright, I get it," Chen Jiang said, soothing Scar Dog like a child. He lit another cigarette and held it to Scar Dog's lips. "When have I ever let you down? Whether on Blue Star or in this world?"
"We'll eventually sit in that seat, fearlessly judging every dish."
"Death will always come for others, never for us."
"No more," Scar Dog said, taking the cigarette and holding it between his fingers. He shook his head with a bitter smile. "Hey, Brother Jiang, why didn't you tell me earlier? My head almost got blown off."
"If I'd known, I wouldn't have used that capsule. It was our last one—what a waste."
"You'd already used it by the time I saw you."
Chen Jiang glanced at the gruesome wound on Scar Dog's head, his expression remaining calm as he said nothing more.
Scar Dog's forehead had vanished completely. The upper half of his skull, including the area above his eyes, had been obliterated by a high-caliber weapon, leaving a gaping hole where bone had been.
The scalding brain matter could be seen flowing beneath the shattered skull with the naked eye.
Under extreme pain, adrenaline surges, temporarily numbing the sensation. This was why Scar Dog initially believed he had only been shot in the calf, completely unaware that half his head had been blown away.
Despite this catastrophic injury, Scar Dog had stubbornly clung to life until the adrenaline wore off, and the searing pain in his skull finally overwhelmed him.
"Good thing I'm a human player," he muttered, greedily inhaling another drag from his cigarette, savoring the rapidly draining life force and the agonizing headache that wracked his body.
After taking a deep breath, he suddenly grinned.
"I wonder if this racial innate ability will even work. Those guys still haven't respawned yet."
"If it doesn't..."
"Then I guess I'll light an incense stick for myself."
The next moment—
Scar Dog suddenly raised the cigarette in his hand and plunged it straight into the depths of his skull.
His breath hitched to a halt.
The corpse crashed heavily to the ground.
The crimson cigarette butt fell into the pool of blood, extinguishing completely.
"Madman," Chen Jiang muttered, shaking his head with a calm expression. He didn't bother to move Scar Dog's body, remaining seated with his rifle cradled in his arms, patiently awaiting the group's resurrection.
By now, the sun had nearly set.
A faint twilight glow lingered on the horizon, but the sun itself was no longer visible.
In his dazed state, Chen Jiang found himself thinking of Huaiyang cuisine.
Scar Dog had always hated Huaiyang cuisine, yet he insisted on eating it.
Not for the taste.
But for the scenery he had always longed for during his darkest days.
A gentle breeze swept through.
Chen Jiang sat calmly amidst the pile of corpses, waiting patiently.
He had always been a patient man.
And then, just as he was about to lose hope—
He suddenly saw a corpse, right before his eyes, slowly fade into nothingness, vanishing completely from its spot.
(End of the Chapter)
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