Heavy Taste

Fatty didn't notice Tu Ran's suppressed smile and went on by itself, "Boss is so smart, you spotted the key point right away."

"That's because the Feiyi also come around here often; wherever they pass, a great drought follows."

"When a Feiyi makes a round, the ground stays parched for ten days to half a month. When a Fuzhu makes a round, it only brings one rain—just wetting the surface while the deeper soil stays dry. That's why this mountain looks so arid."

Fatty explained in detail, and Tu Ran listened carefully.

Fatty continued, "The mountain where the Feiyi clan has settled is so dry that not even a blade of grass grows. All the big trees are bare, and from the foot of the mountain, the whole slope looks withered and yellow, standing in stark contrast to the lush green peaks around it."

"Once the trees die, they have nothing to eat, so the whole clan often packs up and moves to a new mountain. What they like most is to seize the Fuzhu clan's territory, because the Fuzhu have a natural gift for attracting rain, so the mountains they occupy are always covered in falling blossoms and rich with food."

Fatty sighed. "That's why these two clans are always fighting over territory, killing each other over it. When a Fuzhu and a Feiyi meet in private, they'll also throw a punch or two."

"What about the Tianma? What racial talent do they have?"

"That, Fatty doesn't know. They fly away the moment they see Fatty. Fatty has only caught a distant glimpse of them, and hasn't heard from any other companions what talent that clan has. They're very mysterious."

Tu Ran nodded. The fact that Fatty knew the racial talents of the Feiyi and Fuzhu was already a pleasant surprise.

After resting enough, the one person and one ball continued on their way.

Tu Ran deliberately picked the damper patches to walk through.

The damp ground meant it had just rained, indicating that a Fuzhu had recently passed through.

Feeling her way along for nearly an hour, Tu Ran finally heard a different sound.

The sound of running, like hooves striking the ground, rhythmic and urgent.

Right behind it came a faint rustling, like a many-legged reptile scrambling along.

The two sounds, one in front of the other, were both drawing closer.

Tu Ran immediately grabbed Fatty's wing and pulled it into a bush, hiding them both.

Fatty didn't understand. Its hearing wasn't as sharp as Tu Ran's, and it couldn't figure out why she was dragging it into the grass too.

"Bos—"

Tu Ran pinched its beak shut, trapping the unsaid word inside its mouth.

At the same time, she gave it a warning look to keep quiet.

Fatty nodded to show it understood.

Letting go of Fatty's beak, Tu Ran parted a small gap in the bush and peered through it.

A deer as white as ice and snow skidded to a stop there. Its four antlers were extraordinarily elegant, and there was a red pattern in the middle of its forehead.

This must be the Fuzhu.

No wonder Fatty kept emphasizing how beautiful and lovely the Fuzhu were.

Tu Ran couldn't help but marvel—this alien was the best-looking one she had seen so far among all the aliens in the Threshold.

As it halted, raindrops began to fall right away.

Tu Ran and Fatty, less than ten meters away, were caught in the rain with no way to dodge.

To keep the raindrops from tapping on her helmet and alerting the Fuzhu, Tu Ran carefully opened the glass visor of her helmet's front half, revealing her head.

Wiping the rain from her face, Tu Ran sighed: damn, this thing carries its own storm cloud.

The Fuzhu kept looking back, its movements restless and fidgety, like a spirit of the rain.

What was it waiting for?

Tu Ran was curious.

Just then, she heard the insect-like crawling sound grow closer, and the drizzling rain stopped. An ugly fat worm came into her view.

Why call it ugly?

Because it had a crocodile's body—dark, greenish-black, pockmarked surface that made one not want to touch it—six legs, and four wings.

A textbook radiation-mutated creature.

Especially standing opposite the beautiful Fuzhu, it looked all the uglier.

Ugly as it was, Tu Ran's attention was more on it than the Fuzhu.

Because there was a light screen above its head, and on that screen were four big characters: Mountain Crumble, Earth Split.

An ability.

This ugly Feiyi had an inner core.

Tu Ran swallowed hard, her mind racing for a plan.

Outside the bush, the two aliens, unaware of Tu Ran and Fatty, began a less-than-friendly exchange.

The angelic Fuzhu said, "Why are you following me? Looking to die?"

"With that drizzle of yours, even if I wanted to die, could you drown me?" the Feiyi shot back.

The Feiyi was huge, crawling along; when it lay flat, it stood as tall as Tu Ran standing up.

The Fuzhu was twice that height, its four long legs longer than Tu Ran standing upright.

This was a quirk of Threshold aliens—oversized bodies. Tu Ran was used to it.

Yet despite their size, the two aliens talked like schoolkids.

"You Feiyi are nothing but wrecking balls! Wherever you go, it's a wasteland. You should just go live with the drought demons—two plagues together!"

"Heh heh, and you Fuzhu aren't plagues?! You've drowned how many trees and lower species, don't think we don't know! Every time we move to a mountain you've lived on, we find a pile of lower species tied to rocks at the bottom of the river!"

"What? Tie rocks and sink them in the river, and if you can't see them, you think you never hurt them?!" the Feiyi sneered.

"You ugly thing, keep that filthy mouth in check! Which eye of yours saw us do it?"

"Every eye in my Feiyi clan saw it, what? Too cowardly to own up?"

The Fuzhu stamped its foot in fury. "You Feiyi are saints?! You'll eat anything with that foul mouth—you didn't skimp on those bloated corpses at the river bottom, did you? You chase our Fuzhu clan around, isn't it for that pile of corpses? Enough with the self-righteous act!"

Listening to their argument, Tu Ran's stomach churned.

Bloated corpses?

How foul must that be?

Such heavy taste—and the Feiyi could actually stomach it.

And the Fuzhu too.

With an angelic face, their clan would tie rocks to corpses and sink them to the riverbed.

Tsk tsk, truly no normal species in the Threshold.

Oh wait, her little sidekick was still a normal one.

Just then, the ever-quiet Fatty stretched out a wingtip and poked her.

Tu Ran looked at it in confusion.

Fatty leaned close to Tu Ran's ear and whispered, "Fatty needs to poop."

Tu Ran: "…"

There really was no normal species in the Threshold!

They were hiding behind a bush, eavesdropping on a conversation—a tense, serious moment—and this one piped up about needing to poop.

"Hang in there a little longer," Tu Ran begged humbly.

"Fatty can't hold it," Fatty said urgently.