RHWHEG -Chapter 50 The Bait

Yu Qunqing clearly didn’t want to talk about his family.

She Lulang noticed something strange again. Although in his past life Yu Qunqing hadn’t treated his family well, he had at least maintained appearances—especially inside the shelter, where he would always act the part.

That doubt gnawed at She Lulang’s mind, making him pay closer attention to Yu Qunqing’s every move.

At this moment, Yu Qunqing was holding that translucent plastic bucket full of honey, placing it right in the center of the space. He took out a lighter from his bow case; the blue flame touched the thick honey, immediately dying out with a faint burnt smell.

Then, a rich and intoxicating fragrance filled the air—like an invisible hand reaching into their stomachs. They suddenly felt a hunger they had never experienced before, a violent urge to rush over and devour it all. Their appetite almost overrode their nervous systems.

“It’s poisonous!”

Lin Luyi clamped his hands over his ears, keeping his mouth shut, but his voice echoed inside everyone’s heads. His telepathy was working—even without entering vine form!

“Smell it a bit longer and you’ll build resistance,” Yu Qunqing said calmly. He was a bit curious as to why he wasn’t affected—he didn’t even feel hunger. In this life, he had never come into contact with this kind of natural disaster.

She Lulang wasn’t affected either. He just quietly watched Yu Qunqing’s side profile, the doubts in his heart piling up.

After a few minutes, everyone returned to normal. The honey even began to smell cloying, almost suffocating.

Yu Qunqing picked up a steel rod, stirred the honey hard, and said they should leave it—other disaster creatures would come to eat it later, so it wouldn’t go to waste.

After thinking a bit, he secretly took the most fragrant portion and fed it to the Klein Bottle inside its hard shell. He already had an idea of how to find a certain little cat in this massive Delta.

“Guuuwa—”

The ceiling and floor trembled simultaneously. A pipe-organ-like resonance rolled from far to near, accompanied by bursts of compressed air.

Inside the Steel Delta, small self-contained ecosystems of disaster creatures existed. It was inevitable that something else liked honey. Soon enough, a new disaster creature arrived, drawn by the scent.

They spread out, pressing their hands against the walls to feel where the vibrations were coming from.

A long tentacle, covered in sticky blisters, broke through the wall and struck the honey bucket.

“Guuwa—guuwa—”

The organ-like sound grew louder.

This time, Yu Qunqing and Sun Min moved into action, descending to the next level and creeping toward the center.

Sun Min climbed up the collapsed handrails toward the ceiling. Yu Qunqing tightened his bowstring—an even stronger electrical current flickered faintly along the arrow’s edge.

The organ-like sound filled the space, so wide-ranging it was impossible to tell the direction. They pressed their skin against the metal walls, judging distance by the difference between two vibrations.

Yu Qunqing signaled with his hand.

3… 2… 1—

Sun Min used a lever to pry open the ceiling!

A massive, swollen sack-like creature instantly lost its footing, wedging itself in the opening. If it had even a few more seconds to react, it might have wriggled free—but Yu Qunqing didn’t give it that chance. Black scorch marks split across its belly, and yellow-black viscous liquid poured out. Its hind limbs twitched weakly in the air before going still.

Above, She Lulang’s group had also successfully disemboweled two others.

Now came the harvest. They put on gloves and sliced open the creatures’ long tongues—the tentacles that had first broken through the walls.

Inside was a long, slick disaster stone.

Working together, they cut the G-grade disaster stone into smaller pieces and packed them up.

Tiptoeing around the yellow-black, foul-smelling slime, Dong Changxin asked cautiously, “Will other disaster creatures come to lick their corpses?”

“They will,” Yu Qunqing replied. “Big fish eat small fish—it’s the eternal rule of every ecosystem.”

They continued laying in ambush. Soon they heard clinking sounds—like marbles rolling off broken glass—echoing through the steel ruins. But the sound moved quickly, clearly something alive.

Then came the rustle of sliding sand.

In that cramped space, new guests had arrived.

Floating crystal-like organisms ricocheted off walls and dropped into the sticky sludge. They could only move in straight lines, changing direction through impact. Beautiful from every angle, they refracted light like prisms—but emitted no biological signs. No eyes, no brain. They were floating ice.

The crystals brushed through the sludge. Lin Luyi covered his ears and gestured—they were unbearably noisy. His telepathic sensitivity had been growing stronger ever since entering the Steel Delta.

From the other side came another sound—soft and scraping.

Desert worm-like creatures slithered in, their bodies covered in pink folds like sausage casings, with no visible eyes or mouths. Everywhere they went, corrosion followed.

The pink worms also fed on the yellow-black slime, natural enemies to the floating ice crystals.

Battle was inevitable. The worms reared up, compressing their bodies to squeeze out circular ridges like tires. The fine hairs along their skin stood upright like spikes, ramming toward the floating ice.

But the floating ice didn’t attack the worms—they smashed into each other instead, producing sharp, ringing sounds.

The noise was unbearable, especially for Lin Luyi; he felt like weeds were sprouting in his brain.

Yu Qunqing immediately decided to deal with the floating ice first. She Lulang reacted too—his black bird darted through the air, shattering crystal bodies. Yu Qunqing nocked an arrow and aimed at the worms. At the same moment, Yu Xi shouted, “Get down!”

The three teammates buried their faces in the cracks.

A deafening blast followed. Bits of flesh rained down everywhere. Yu Qunqing sighed inwardly—electric powers were always like this, unstable and messy. The battlefield looked gruesome. Anyone who didn’t know better would think he had some strange fetish.

Sun Min stood up stiffly. “Good thing we’re not the ones cleaning this up.”

Dong Changxin muttered, “How many more rounds of bait do we have to use before that H-class disaster shows up…”

They started setting up the next trap.

Lin Luyi tied a rope around the queen bee’s waist. She crawled for a while, then buzzed a short distance before landing again—like a heavy balloon. “I don’t know why, but I seem to have great affinity with bees,” he said.

Sun Min quipped, “Because you’re basically a plant.”

“No, wait,” Lin Luyi said thoughtfully. “I think I can understand what it’s buzzing about. It’s a psychic type, and I have psychic abilities too. Maybe that’s why we can communicate? Could I talk to other psychic beings too?”

“In theory, yes,” She Lulang explained. “At the shelter, I’ve seen trained telepaths who can build a mental network to chat across thousands of kilometers.”

For once, he spoke at length. “Psychic powers are tricky. If you ever meet a Green-Tag personnel named Han Shuzhu, be extremely careful. He’s very likely a psychic too.”

Dong Changxin blinked. “Green-Tag personnel can have powers?”

“I don’t know how he managed it,” She Lulang admitted.

Yu Qunqing said casually, “You sound like you know him well. First time I’ve heard you bring up someone we don’t know.”

Then, losing interest, he cut off the topic. “Spread the bait near the vents. Get ready for the next wave.”

She Lulang didn’t argue, simply turned to prepare for battle.

Sun Min dismantled a gun they’d scavenged from the hive, modifying the barrel with small parts so it could fit conical bullets. He handed the upgraded weapon to Dong Changxin.

Dong looked at it enviously. “Seems like everyone’s got an upgrade now.”

Yu Qunqing and She Lulang were both LV2. Lin Luyi had a queen bee. Dong Changxin now had a custom-fitted gun.

Up ahead, Yu Qunqing asked without looking back, “Do you like cats? I could lend you the Klein Bottle as a bodyguard. Or maybe an octopus?” he added, recalling its second form.

Sun Min laughed. “Not much for cats, but I do like eating octopus.”

“Too bad,” Yu Qunqing said lightly. “I’ll think of some other creature for you then.”

“Can’t I just get a cool weapon instead?” Sun Min protested.

They walked on, pausing every so often. The Steel Delta felt like an endless maze of metal cubes—every direction led to another path. Normal compasses were useless here; the scrap metal and magnets everywhere threw them off. They had to leave markings as they went.

With each upgraded bait trap, stronger creatures appeared—jet-propelled giant scallops, twin-ridged crawling swarms, unknown insect clusters.

No one knew how long it took, but eventually the nine connected spaces around them were cleared out. The central chamber was now a mountain of corpses and disaster stones, reeking so badly it made them gag.

They all put on oxygen masks.

“At this level, it should be enough to attract the Klein Bottle,” Yu Qunqing said. He knew it liked dried fish and catnip too, but those scents didn’t travel far. Better to make homemade “cat food.”

He lit a flame, judged airflow through the smoke, and piled the bait at the vent.

Then he ordered everyone to retreat one chamber farther back than before.

Each of them had a periscope from the neighborhood tech department, allowing them to monitor the surroundings.

They waited in silence for half an hour—until a soft “meow” finally broke the stillness.

Yu Qunqing saw the ceiling turn fuzzy, covered in dense black fur as if it were alive. The fur gathered inward, forming a hairy ball that dripped downward like slow-motion water, landing on the corpse mountain below.

Once it hit, the ball rolled, revealing a long tail and two triangular cat ears. On its back was a shell-like lump, like a hard yuzu rind.

For the first time, the Klein Bottle revealed its true form.

In the game, it had been a cute little cat—but in reality, it radiated something sinister. Humans couldn’t help but associate it with filth, sludge, and fear.

Yu Qunqing adjusted his gloves, biting a nail between his teeth. In this steel labyrinth, bone conduction was the fastest way to transmit sound. They had to stay perfectly cautious to survive.

Just then, they all heard another rustling sound, and froze.

The scraping grew louder—scales grinding against metal. A long, slithering creature was moving through the corridors.

“Are you the Klein Bottle?”

A familiar female voice echoed through the rancid air.

060 crawled out of a pipe, her double tails—each three meters long—slowly squeezing out behind her.

“Meow?” The Klein Bottle tilted its head, seemingly harmless.

“Don’t come closer,” 060 said softly, circling around it. Then she pressed her palms together. “I’m calling reinforcements.”