Chapter 30: Night of the Wasteland

As night fell, the wasteland shed the blistering heat of the day, and the temperature quickly dropped to around five or six degrees Celsius. The night wind howled, chilling any exposed skin with a pain like being sliced by knives.

Lu Yuan leaned against the tire of the all-terrain vehicle, trying to huddle under the vehicle as much as possible to avoid the piercing cold wind that cut through the convoy. However, his hands were bound, limiting his movement. He would occasionally press his upper body against the tire to warm up, then crawl out to extend his legs back into the open air to block the wind.

He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but regardless, he needed to recover as much strength as possible. Otherwise, even if an opportunity arose, it would slip away before he could seize it.

Lu Yuan picked up a piece of snake meat gifted by the indigenous leader, placing it on his knee. The stench was pungent, but he had no choice. When he was captured, the natives had confiscated all his weapons—even his dagger hidden in his boot.

The snake meat was extremely tough; even with persistent tearing and chewing, Lu Yuan could only pull off a small piece at a time. Resisting the urge to retch, he forced himself to chew the snake meat until it released a slight sweetness, then swallowed.

Compared to Lu Yuan's primitive struggle for food, the natives on the other side were much more comfortable.

After thoroughly clearing out the small oasis, they had arranged their vehicles in a circle around it. The two heavily modified battle trucks alone provided ample cover on the flanks, blocking much of the wasteland wind. Those not on guard were busy dividing up the snake meat, drawing water from the pond, and tending to vehicle repairs. A few higher-ranking members had even gathered around a fire, cooking and warming themselves leisurely.

Lu Yuan bit into another piece of snake meat, pulling hard. The meat stretched into long, sinewy strands, almost enough to crack his teeth. After a few minutes of chewing a thumb-sized portion, he observed the native group with cold eyes.

This native hunting party, bearing the flag of the Scorpion Clan, numbered at least 50 to 80 people based on their vehicles alone: two heavy battle trucks, three armored trucks, five off-road vehicles, and around thirteen or fourteen motorbikes.

Reflecting on his earlier skirmish with them, Lu Yuan had to admit that, aside from his own failure to strike first, their coordination was impressively tight and left few openings.

His all-terrain vehicle was only slightly smaller than their battle trucks, so the natives initially deployed four off-road vehicles to encircle him, trying to hook onto his vehicle and slow him down. If the all-terrain vehicle had lost speed, the lighter vehicles would have immediately overtaken it, throwing grenades or attempting close-range attacks.

Though the battle trucks had appeared idle, they had actually kept pace with the rear armored trucks, preventing Lu Yuan from finding any opportunity to break free. Their timing and synergy were well-executed.

And none of them seemed to fear death.

Whether it was launching grenade attacks on snakes or risking their lives to throw hooks onto enemy vehicles, these natives seemed to take a perverse pleasure in risking their lives. Their relentless aggression had forced Lu Yuan into a defensive position, resulting in his current capture.

Lu Yuan wiped his mouth, sweeping away a bit of the greasy snake meat residue. The native hunters worked quickly and efficiently, and within a couple of hours after sunset, they had finished butchering the two large snakes and loaded buckets of snake meat onto the trucks.

However, a dispute seemed to arise among the natives during the loading process. It appeared that the storage compartments were full and couldn't accommodate any more meat barrels. Some angry natives were shouting at those on the trucks, demanding that they make room for more.

From what his malfunctioning translation earpiece could catch, one of them was shouting, "You truck guys took advantage of us bikers, and now you won't even give us space?"

Unsurprisingly, the natives weren't known for resolving disputes with words, and the argument quickly escalated into a brawl. This, however, was strictly forbidden by any leader.

"Bang! Bang!" The native leader fired twice, but the brawl continued since it involved the hunters' spoils. Without further words, the leader charged into the fray with his guards. After a brutal struggle, the instigators were forced to the ground, begging for mercy.

The leader planted a foot on one of the troublemaker's heads, nearly pressing it into the mud as he shouted them down. Lu Yuan, even from a distance, could sense the discontent brewing beneath the surface.

"This is a treasure spot! Our oasis!" his earpiece translated the leader's words.

Lifting a barrel of snake meat, the leader personally loaded it onto a truck, then pulled out a green crate, shouting, "All snake meat on board! We'll store our ammo and supplies here! From now on, this oasis belongs to the Scorpion Clan!"

Though they had been beaten, the natives seemed to forget this in their excitement over the leader's declaration, cheering loudly. Under the watchful eye of the guards, they began burying excess supplies around the oasis with renewed enthusiasm.

Lu Yuan watched the commotion with some interest. When he noticed a few natives sneaking over in his direction, he slumped down, pretending to be asleep. These hotheads didn't need any more excuses to cause trouble.

The natives didn't seem to notice Lu Yuan lying in the shadows. They rummaged through the all-terrain vehicle, pulled out several weapons crates from the Xiyun, and buried them under the trees, replacing them with boxes marked with the Scorpion Clan insignia. Lu Yuan guessed these were filled with valuable goods like snake meat, scales, or bones.

Could that stuff be some sort of strength enhancer? he wondered, amused by their willingness to bury guns and ammo just to bring back snake parts.

Yet no matter how chaotic the natives got, Lu Yuan welcomed the idea of fewer weapons at his captors' disposal. If he ever managed to escape, fewer bullets would be coming after him.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. Fortunately, his coat sleeves were long enough to conceal it; otherwise, the watch would have been taken too. As the natives, worn out from their activities, began to retreat to their vehicles to rest, Lu Yuan's eyes grew heavy, and he prepared to sleep as well.

Just as he was about to drift off, Lu Yuan's eyes snapped open. Someone was coming toward him, carrying a skinning knife.