Three beams of teleportation light flared in succession, and the three contestants were pulled out of the Sprite Civilization.
It wasn’t their choice. Their families simply couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Even if it meant forfeiting the hunting event, they had to rescue them. The psychological scars left by the Golden Scarab, however, would take far longer to heal.
With all three contestants gone, the twelve Digital Sprites they had brought were left without owners. Anyone who could establish contracts with them within ten minutes would become their new owner.
Han Wu glanced at them. Four were ultimate Digital Sprites: two Concealsprites, one Dugongsprite, and one Crabsprite. All of them were Sage rank. Despite being of the ultimate tier, they were pitifully weak.
Han Wu had little interest in them, but then he remembered that his Nightwing Butterflies could drain other Digital Sprites’ life force to heal their targets. These twelve would make excellent mobile blood bags inside the Microcosm.
Good enough. They just need a wash, and they’ll be fine. He found water, scrubbed them clean, and stored them inside the Pseudo-Machinedrasprite’s Microcosm.
With that settled, Han Wu continued reviewing the intel his avatars had gathered. He had already gathered all the special materials required for a holy evolution path. Activating it demanded a massive number of evolution points, and the fastest way to earn them was by hunting large numbers of Digital Sprites or targeting powerful ultimate Digital Sprites.
Han Wu’s forces were strong, and the Iron Abyss Bug’s Armored evolution into the Golden Scarab gave him a unique advantage. He was starting to feel confident enough to challenge one of the high-danger zones.
He set his sights on the Kingdom of Sin to the west. It was teeming with Sin Digital Sprites, and his avatars had detected over fifty ultimate ones there. It was a goldmine of evolution points.
Han Wu reasoned that as long as those fifty-plus ultimate Digital Sprites didn’t all converge on him at once, he wouldn’t face any real danger. The ultimate Digital Sprites at his side gave him that confidence. With his decision made, he headed west.
Meanwhile, the remaining contestants started to receive messages from their families. No signal link existed between the Divine Civilization and the Sprite Civilization. The only way to relay information was through the Gift God King’s donation channel. The minimum donation was 1 Divine Essence per message, a trivial cost for the families.
The most common message was simple: If you encounter an Armored Form Digital Sprite called the Golden Scarab, run. Don’t look back. Anyone too slow would suffer the humiliation of soiling themselves on a live broadcast.
The three victims had already been teleported back to the Divine Civilization and placed under the care of specialists with the Hypnosis Jurisdiction. Their treatment plan included brainwashing, cosmetic alteration, name changes, and relocation to a different civilization.
Most contestants who had earned a spot in the hunting event came from elite families, and they understood their families’ concerns well enough to comply.
A few, however, were defiant. One such person was Tyson, a member of the Fist Saint Family. His family instructed him to avoid the Golden Scarab. Tyson’s response was to seek it out deliberately. He intended to prove through his own strength that he feared nothing.
When Tyson declared his intentions on camera, the Fist Saint Family’s patriarch nearly suffered a stroke. This disobedient brat is determined to charge headfirst into a pile of dung!
“Pull him out! Make him forfeit! Tyson can die, but the Fist Saint Family’s reputation must not be ruined!” the patriarch roared.
The family submitted a withdrawal request, only for Shaura to flatly reject it outright.
“Gift God King, why won’t you let me bring that foolish child back?” the patriarch demanded.
Shaura glanced at the old man. “I decide every rule of this hunting event. If I don’t want him to withdraw, he cannot withdraw.”
The patriarch was so furious that he couldn’t form a complete sentence. The Gift God King was clearly enjoying the spectacle and waiting for the Fist Saint Family to humiliate itself!
Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed.
A younger family member reassured the patriarch, “The Sprite Civilization is enormous. Tyson has no idea where to even find the Golden Scarab.”
The patriarch let out a sigh of relief. Then he looked at Tyson’s broadcast feed and nearly coughed up blood.
Viewers were donating messages to guide Tyson straight to his target.
[Contestant Tyson, you’ve received a donation from viewer “Whatever you do, DON’T go west past the Bone Burial Grounds, the Dark Pool, the Chessboard Lands, and into the Kingdom of Sin!” Total: 1 Divine Essence.]
[Contestant Tyson, you’ve received a donation from viewer “There’s a punk called Han Wu in the Kingdom of Sin. You absolutely must not go fight him.” Total: 1 Divine Essence.]
[Contestant Tyson, you’ve received a donation from viewer “Tyson is the GOAT! Go beat up Han Wu and your family will carve you a new page in the ancestral records!” Total: 1 Divine Essence.]
[Contestant Tyson, you’ve received a donation from viewer “A 300-pound Tyson can’t produce 200 pounds of crap.” Total: 1 Divine Essence.]
Tyson was good at connecting the dots. Multiple donations mentioned the Kingdom of Sin, Han Wu, and a certain unpleasant substance. There had to be a connection. Hence, he decided to head to the Kingdom of Sin and find Han Wu for answers.
Elsewhere, the Lade Family was also watching the hunting event. Their patriarch, Linus, studied the most popular broadcast, which happened to show Han Wu’s Golden Scarab single-handedly defeating three contestants.
Beside him, Saliya watched with a flushed face.
“This young man... Tsk, tsk. Interesting indeed. While these are dirty tactics, you can tell that he’s a real tactician,” Linus said, pointing at Han Wu on the screen.
Then he recalled the entry slot his daughter had given away and asked, “My dear Saliya, you gave your spot to one of your students, didn’t you? What’s his name?”
Saliya’s expression grew uneasy, and her eyes started darting around.
“Dad, why do you say this young man is a good tactician?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Because real tacticians play dirty,” Linus replied. “My dear Saliya, you still haven’t told me which one is your student. I’d like to watch his broadcast.”
Saliya had no choice but to point, somewhat reluctantly, at the very screen Linus had been watching. “My student is that young man. The one who’s the best tactician.”