Chapter 79: Detoxification

Kou Li stood on a tree branch, his five toes hooked securely like a cat, steady and poised. His gaze was fixed a mile away, where the strange fruit lay. Since that night, a blue mist had gradually seeped around the bizarre fruit and tree, and wherever the fog spread, all living creatures began to have bloodshot eyes, driven mad and murderous.

Kou Li was well acquainted with this sensation; the mist possessed perhaps thirty to forty percent of the potency of Leopard Embryo Pills. For beasts guided by instinct, it was more than sufficient. Yet, unlike the pills, this mist seemed to enhance the senses of the animals. Even if he avoided them in advance, they would track him down and a brutal fight would ensue.

Just like the lion beneath the tree, its eyes bulging and roaring endlessly. The beasts on the island were mutated compared to their ordinary counterparts. This golden-maned lion's shoulders and haunches were armored with bone plates, and three curved, ram-like horns sprouted from its head, stained with fresh blood.

Kou Li’s eyes flashed; he slid down the trunk, and as the armored lion’s eyes widened, the distance between them shrank to less than half a meter. The beast leapt at him, carried by a foul wind, without hesitation. Kou Li twisted his body at an unnatural angle, stepping over the lion’s paw, his blood surging and sinking like a thousand-pound cauldron crashing into the lion’s waist. A miserable howl erupted. He pressed his palm lightly to the lion’s head, a blow as thunderous as a hammer, and after the strike, the armored lion staggered, unable to hold itself upright.

Kou Li clamped his legs together, his knees forming scissors, and a metallic grinding sounded from his leg bones. With a swift motion, the lion’s neck snapped, its head drooping limply. This ferocious beast king lasted barely a round in the hands of this human, and sweat still glistened on its neck and head.

Almost simultaneously, four or five pairs of emerald eyes lit up from the surrounding grass nests. Kou Li sighed softly; his figure flickered, and he vanished into the depths of the forest in a few strides. Soon after, the sounds of tearing flesh and the scent of blood followed, attracting even more beasts to battle.

When Kou Li returned to the cave, he saw Lin Su'e grinding a purple medicine, then applying it to Huang Gongzi’s face and hands, which had already turned black.

Kou Li handed over the herbs he’d gathered from the island and asked, “How is her condition now?”

“It’s very dangerous. If the poison can’t be suppressed, there’s almost no hope, and my method is merely drinking poison to quench thirst. Once the toxins reach her heart, there’s truly no cure,” Lin Su’e replied, her eyes red-rimmed.

“Can you delay it for a few more days?”

“At most three days.”

“Can you determine the source of the poison—was it a snake bite, poisonous grass, or some kind of toxic flower?” Kou Li asked.

“No, Sister Huang has not a single wound, and there’s foreign residue in her mouth. I suspect it’s the miasma from the forest,” Lin Su’e said.

Kou Li frowned slightly. Miasma—could it be that the poison affecting Huang Gongzi was the blue mist? If so, how could they find an antidote for such a toxin?

“For all deadly poisons, there’s always a cure nearby. Kou, have you seen any fruit in the forest with a strange appearance or scent?” Lin Su’e asked, her eyes full of hope.

Late at night, Lin Su’e remained at Huang Gongzi’s side. The poison flared up frequently, forcing her to keep constant watch, and exhaustion was written all over her face. Yet this gentle yet resolute healer continued to persevere, grinding her teeth and holding on.

Kou Li sat half-upright at the cave entrance, absent-mindedly playing with the Ice Soul Pearl, now barely the size of a bean. After repeated use, its volume had shrunk considerably; one more use and the immortal treasure would be spent entirely.

He greatly doubted whether Huang Gongzi’s poisoning was truly natural. The strange tree, the peculiar fruit, and the lurking threats seemed more like the forbidden arts of immortals. He’d seen such methods before; the similarities were undeniable.

If it was indeed an immortal’s trick, that would be real trouble. Kou Li glanced at the sky—moon halo faint, drifting among dark clouds, like a giant eye blinking. His spirit stirred; he needed to investigate further.

If it was truly the work of immortals, the day and night would be reversed, with different operations at play.

The forest was dim, forcing even Kou Li to rely more on sound and tactile senses. The scent of blood had intensified, and wet traces were everywhere.

Yet the beasts seemed quieter at night, mostly licking their wounds in the shadows.

Kou Li tread carefully on the stones in the stream, his gaze sharp, remaining vigilant as he probed ahead. This time, the blue mist was nowhere to be seen, nor did the threatening sounds emerge.

It appeared that as long as the four fruits were left untouched, all would remain safe and normal.

The fruits were still hanging on the branches, none missing. But as Kou Li scanned the scene, his heart jolted, his eyes narrowing. Something was amiss. The fruits were all there, but their positions had changed.

Two of the fruits were now hanging from branches on a different tree than during the day.

He trusted his memory, and on this island, aside from the three of them, no one else could possibly have moved the fruits. Even if someone had, they would not have swapped them between trees.

Unless the fruits themselves had walked down and moved? Though the thought was terrifying, it seemed the only possibility.

Kou Li glanced at the moon. From this angle, tonight’s moon was especially bright, large as a silver platter, its cold light gently bathing the branches and shimmering on the stream, casting a dreamy beauty.

Such a moon was certainly unusual.

Another question surfaced in Kou Li’s mind: if his assumptions were correct, when the fruit was on the tree, it was protected by the strange tree and forbidden arts. But once it fell to the ground, who would protect it then?

After all, if a beast happened to eat the fruit by accident, the person who had specially planted the tree would suffer a great loss.

With a thought, Kou Li picked up a few stones from the ground, maintained a safe distance, focused his energy, and flicked three stones in quick succession at one of the fruits.

A wailing wind arose, and blue mist appeared again. This time, Kou Li observed closely: the smoke drifted from the leaves of the strange tree, spreading swiftly throughout the forest.

At the same time, howls and snarls echoed once more, but as the hair-raising sensation returned, these sounds gradually died down.

Kou Li retreated quietly. He had a rough idea now: nighttime belonged to the growing season, during which no disturbance could be tolerated.

“Brother Kou, wake up! Wake up!” Lin Su’e called, rousing him from his blurry slumber. He’d been busy all day and night, grabbing only a brief nap before dawn, only to be awakened by her.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a ship—a big ship approaching!”

Kou Li’s heart leapt; he sprang to his feet. Sure enough, a small dark dot was swiftly closing in on the island. Through his vision, he saw the ship—long, cherry-red, bearing a flag with a huge skull, with a blood dragon crawling through its eyes, fangs bared, dominating the sea.

“Zhu Baozi’s pirate flag!”

Without hesitation, Kou Li swept away the fire at the cave entrance, took a deep breath, and said, “This cave is too close to the shore. We can no longer stay. Pack up everything and toss it into the sea—anything to buy us some time. Head to the north side of the island.”

“But then, what about food and water?” Lin Su’e worried. The three had painstakingly built a little refuge, finding rare warmth and comfort on this deserted island.

“If we win this round, returning home won’t be an issue. If we lose, we won’t need to worry about returning at all.”

Kou Li could estimate the ship’s crew by its size—a medium sea vessel, with over a hundred fighting men, not counting the necessary staff.

One against a hundred—that was truly a challenge!

“I am very confident that this time, we will catch something!” Princess Sakura shouted into the sea breeze, sitting with perfect posture, her plump face flushed red by the wind.

“My subordinate believes it’s time to send men to clear the island,” said the ninja master, bowing—but without much respect in his tone.

“I think—”

At other times, it didn’t matter, but for critical operations, it was the ninja master who made the decisions. With a slight nod, nearly twenty Japanese ninja slaves leapt into the sea, moving frog-like through the water, conical hats on their heads, bending low as they headed for the distant island.

“I really dislike you, ninja master!” Princess Sakura spat angrily.

The ninja master’s expression remained unchanged. This Sakura, born of a Japanese woman and a Chinese man, was not truly respected by orthodox Japanese assassins.

If not for the need for Zhu Baozi’s pirate fleet and supplies to conquer the nation, Japanese women held little status—even princesses were destined for marriage alliances and bearing children.