After Raising Monsters, I Was Loved by Everyone in the Wasteland – CH86

Chapter 86

The sound of the whale’s call… it was the blue whale.

The S-class ultra-dangerous mutant had revealed itself directly!

The armed men realized this and immediately attempted to retreat, but it was too late.

Their projectiles, deflected by the invisible sound waves, were hurled back, crashing near the armored vehicles. With a deafening boom, fiery explosions erupted, engulfing several armed men in flames. Their agonized screams echoed through the chaos.

San San stood dumbfounded. “Wow.”

Wasn’t this that human saying “digging your own graves”?

From the churning waters, a massive, shadowy form began to surface. It was vast and unfathomable, like an abyss given physical shape.

As though influenced by some unknown force, the previously sunny weather darkened in an instant. Thick clouds gathered overhead, casting a grim pall over the scene.

A bone-chilling wind swept through the air, carrying with it the pungent, briny scent of the sea. The ocean swelled, each wave rising higher and crashing harder against the shore.

Wen Xin felt a sudden and immense pressure as if his body were being crushed under a thousand tons.

Ah Lü quickly nudged him, releasing him from the invisible hold. “The tsunami’s about to hit. We have to get out of here.”

But Wen Xin furrowed his brows. “Something’s not right.”

The barrage had ceased long ago. The remaining shells, which hadn’t been launched, had all detonated near the armored vehicles, igniting a terrifying inferno.

The four burly men restraining the elderly fisherman were thrown aside by the wind and waves, coughing up blood. Seizing the opportunity, the old man grabbed a machete and hacked their heads to a pulp.

The fishermen, seeing an opening, fled en masse toward the sea. To them, the dangerous ocean was a safer refuge than the shore.

Meanwhile, the bandits shouted in panic, their voices drowned by the salty gales as they scattered in every direction.

It seemed like a one-sided massacre.

Yet Wen Xin couldn’t shake his unease.

If these people hadn’t prepared adequately, how could they have dared provoke an S-class blue whale?

Taking a deep breath, he extended his gaze further, scanning the horizon with urgency.

Then his pupils contracted sharply.

Out on the seemingly endless expanse of water, several fishing boats were quietly closing in on the massive figure at the center of the roiling waves.

These boats weren’t carrying cargo or passengers. Instead, they were equipped with hoists, steam engines, and cannon-like harpoon launchers. The weapons were loaded with long, heavy harpoons.

Wen Xin murmured, “Whaling ships…”

Ah Lü had also noticed the ships and spoke grimly. “Normal weapons can’t pierce the hardened skin of a mutant.”

But the First Base’s weapons were different.

They had developed a unique material for weapons and chemicals that could greatly weaken a mutant’s defenses, reducing even the mightiest creatures to something weaker than ordinary animals in mere moments.

Wen Xin’s gaze shifted, catching sight of another convoy—a line of medium-sized armored vehicles moving silently toward a higher vantage point along the coastline. Their route was hidden enough that it might have gone unnoticed if not for his elevated position.

In stark contrast, the armored vehicles near the village had been stationary, utterly overwhelmed and ineffective from the beginning.

“So that’s it… this group…” Wen Xin shot to his feet, cradling Ah Lü and San San as he strode quickly toward the car.

Seeing his agitation, Ah Lü asked directly, “What’s wrong, Wen Xin?”

San San, though startled, stayed quiet, sensing the urgency of the situation.

“The people down there are bait. They’re using their own men as a smokescreen to lure the blue whale out. The real strike is coming from those whaling ships and the group on the cliff.”

Wen Xin placed the two companions in the passenger seat.

Ah Lü hissed, “Are you planning to stop them?”

The question made Wen Xin pause, his hand frozen just as he was about to start the car.

He turned his head to glance at the two unconscious siblings in the backseat and let out a quiet sigh.

His eyes shifted to the distant convoy and their weaponry. He knew full well that as an ordinary human, rushing in would leave nothing of him but dust.

“No, I never intended to,” Wen Xin replied softly. “But I promised these two children I’d get them back to their family.”

The car roared to life, descending the slope and speeding toward the fishermen fleeing to the shore.

The sky was now an oppressive gray, heavy with clouds that seemed ready to collapse. A cold wind carried salty sea spray, scattering it like rain.

As they neared the coast, the ethereal, thunderous call of the blue whale grew louder.

The creature’s rage was intense, its cry layered like crashing waves, each one threatening to drown everything in its path.

Wen Xin soon caught up with the fleeing fishermen.

Having already accomplished their goal of luring out the whale, the armed men were too preoccupied celebrating to pay attention to the villagers.

The fishermen, terrified and bitter over the destruction of their home, instinctively raised their harpoons when they saw a white sedan approaching.

Wen Xin stepped out, facing the sharp, glinting tips of the weapons.

He raised his hands to show he meant no harm but knew that anger and fear made it difficult for people to think rationally.

Acting quickly, he opened the car’s back door and carefully carried out the unconscious siblings.

Seeing the children, the murderous intent on the fishermen’s faces shifted.

Among them, an elderly man stepped forward, surrounded protectively by the others.

The old man’s skin was weathered, darkened, and yellowed by years of sun and sea. His face was lined with deep creases, and his calloused hands bore the marks of a lifetime of labor.

Fresh blood still streaked his hands from earlier when he had killed the armed men.

His eyes locked on the siblings. Slowly, he approached and took the children into his arms.

Looking at the sleeping children, his expression, once hardened by grief and hatred, softened as if life itself had flowed back into him.

“Who are you?” the old man rasped, his voice hoarse from shouting—a raw, damaged sound.

Wen Xin kept it brief. “This isn’t the place to talk. Get the elderly and children into my car—”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when a massive wave came crashing towards them like a towering white wall.

Reacting instinctively, Wen Xin threw his arms wide, intending to shield the old man.

But the old man moved faster, his strength erupting as he grabbed Wen Xin by the wrist and yanked him toward the shore.

By the time Wen Xin realized what was happening, he was already being dragged into the path of the monstrous wave.

“Wen Xin!”

In less than half a second, the world flipped upside down.

Saltwater surged into his nose and mouth, drowning him in its briny sting. The thunderous explosions above sounded muffled as if filtered through an invisible barrier, growing distant and faint.

The sky had darkened completely, but beneath the ocean’s surface, it shimmered with flickering silver lights. From above, Wen Xin could see tendrils of silvery light dancing and swaying in the tides like ethereal lanterns.

The old man’s grip on Wen Xin remained ironclad, keeping him from being swept away by the current. His strength was far beyond that of an ordinary human.

The realization hit Wen Xin belatedly.

This frail-looking elder had required four burly armed men to restrain him earlier.

But it was too late for Wen Xin to fully process this revelation.

Unable to swim, Wen Xin struggled feebly in the water. To the old man, his resistance was negligible—a futile effort easily ignored.

The fishermen swam ahead effortlessly.

Their ordinary human bodies seemed to transform in the water, as they moved like agile fish. They navigated through the turbulent sea with precision, avoiding any falling debris.

Even the unconscious children began to instinctively kick their legs, their movements natural and fluid.

Not far away, a massive half-sunken ship loomed on the shoreline. Its broken hull jutted out of the sand, and its shattered mast stood tall like the remnants of a great dragon’s skeletal remains.

The remarkable sight of the ship being enveloped in a transparent bubble was surreal. Inside, nothing floated or moved with the current, as though time itself had paused within its bounds.

This was the fishermen’s destination.

One of the villagers had already reached the ship. Standing on the deck as if on solid ground, he paid no mind to the seawater dripping from his clothes and extended a hand through the bubble to help his companions.

The old man swam slower than the others, burdened as he was with the unconscious siblings in one arm and Wen Xin in the other.

But as he swam, he noticed something wrong.

Looking back, he saw Wen Xin covering his mouth with one hand, bubbles spilling rapidly from between his fingers.

He was drowning!

The old man’s face contorted in alarm. Urgently, he picked up speed.

At that moment, a massive shadow emerged from the deep.

Its iridescent green scales gleamed with a mesmerizing hue, an otherworldly radiance in the dark waters. The serpent carried with it an overwhelming presence as it surged forward, sweeping Wen Xin and the old man into the protective bubble surrounding the giant ship.

The old man tumbled onto the deck, caught by his fellow villagers, while the siblings in his arms were taken safely into others’ hands.

Wen Xin landed softer than he expected, cushioned by the serpent’s thick tail. He felt no pain as he was deposited inside.

Suddenly, he could breathe again.

He arched his back, gasping deeply for air, and coughed up a lungful of seawater. His throat burned, and the rough spasms left him disoriented.

His thoughts were jumbled, and for once, his usually sharp mind felt muddled.

“I never want to experience that again,” he thought groggily. “Absolutely deadly.”

Pressing his temples to regain clarity, Wen Xin became aware of the hard, cool texture beneath his palm. He looked down, confused, and saw the green scales of a serpent.

Green scales… Ah Lü?!

Wen Xin’s heart skipped a beat, pounding wildly in his chest.

But before he could fully grasp what was happening or even meet the serpent’s gaze, its long tail snapped back at lightning speed. In a flash, the enormous shadow vanished into the depths, disappearing to some hidden refuge.

Wen Xin: “…”

Damn it.

Ah Lü had finally revealed itself, only for Wen Xin to completely miss the moment.

Turning around, Wen Xin noticed that the fishermen, who had also caught a glimpse of the massive serpent, were wide-eyed and slack-jawed. The terrifying sight had burned itself into their minds.

It seemed like everyone had seen Ah Lü’s true form—everyone except him.

Wen Xin sighed deeply.

The roar of cannon fire continued unabated above the waves.

On the ship’s deck, the fishermen sat in grim silence. Husbands murmured reassurances to their frightened wives, while mothers comforted their distressed children.

Some villagers sat alone, their fists clenched so tightly that their knuckles cracked, and the hands gripping their harpoons turned white from the strain.

A whale’s cry broke through the chaos, starkly different from its earlier calls of rage. This one was steeped in agony.

Every fisherman stood up at once, their faces pale with dread.

The violent waves churned the sea into chaos. Through the maelstrom, they caught glimpses of the colossal shadow—so vast it dwarfed everything around it—bound by several thick ropes. The giant creature had stopped thrashing, its pained wails reverberating through the storm.

Fish swarmed toward the whale, answering its anguished summons, but seemed to encounter an invisible barrier. They circled frantically, unable to reach the whale, and swam in helpless loops.

The villagers were gripped by a mix of terror and rage.

“What’s happening?”

“What did they do to the Sea God?”

A voice from behind them answered, calm but sharp: “It’s the whaling ships.”

Everyone turned to Wen Xin.

As residents of the coast, the fishermen knew well what whaling ships were. For the South Sea—under the dominion of the blue whale—the presence of such vessels was a forbidden taboo.

The old man ground his teeth. “There’s no way whaling ships should appear here!”

Wen Xin shook his head. “When mutants enter their evolution stage, their awareness of their surroundings decreases. These people must have taken advantage of that window to bring whaling ships from another sea.”

His words were barely out when he noticed the fishermen turning toward him with strange looks.

In their eyes, Wen Xin’s presence felt abrupt and out of place.

Though the crisis had brought them together, it couldn’t erase the fact that Wen Xin was an outsider. And to them, outsiders had always meant trouble. Disaster and schemes followed wherever outsiders tread.

Yet, Wen Xin had saved the village elder’s grandchildren.

After the death of the elder’s only son, these two children were the last of his family line.

Gratitude and suspicion warred within the villagers, leaving them unsure how to feel about the young man.

But now was no time to dwell on such matters.

“If it’s the whaling ships, we have to stop them!”

The villagers heard the telltale hum of steam engines—the sound of a whaling ship hauling in its “catch,” its engines revving with greater intensity.

The whale’s anguished cries were like a knife to their hearts.

“We can’t wait any longer,” one of them said.

The old man didn’t hesitate. “Women and children stay here. The rest, come with me!”

The fishermen gripped their harpoons tightly and stepped through the bubble, diving back into the sea.

Wen Xin noticed their swimming forms as they entered the water. Each one had a unique style at first but gradually became more fluid and graceful, as though driven by a shared power.

With each kick, faint, scale-like patterns shimmered across their skin, vanishing as quickly as they appeared.

After all the commotion, the siblings finally woke up.

They rubbed their eyes, disoriented, just in time to see the adults leaving en masse.

The boy quickly spotted Wen Xin among the remaining villagers and rushed to him, his voice urgent. “Big Brother, you’re strong. Can you help us?”

Wen Xin’s heart stirred with unease as his hand absently rubbed the grip of his pistol.

The gun had been submerged in water—could it still fire properly?

He closed his eyes, regaining his composure, and sighed. “Sorry, but I can’t swim…”

“That’s okay!”

Before Wen Xin could react, the boy suddenly spun on his heel and darted through a partially open door at the back of the deck.

Realizing something, Wen Xin quickly stood up and followed, stopping in his tracks as he peeked inside.

What he saw froze him in place.

Inside the ship’s hold, massive clams rested in corners, their shells unusually large. Some were closed, while others gaped open to reveal soft flesh cradling luminous pearls. The pearls shimmered with a faint blue light, akin to the deep ocean’s glow.

The boy reached into one of the clams to retrieve a pearl, nearly getting his arm crushed when the shell snapped shut. But the clams seemed to recognize him, stopping just in time.

“Eat this, and you’ll be able to swim!” the boy exclaimed as he hurried back.

Wen Xin took the pearl and examined it closely, but he hesitated.

He recalled the fish-scale-like patterns he’d seen on the villagers’ legs—translucent and unsettlingly beautiful.

The boy, sensing Wen Xin’s doubt, grew anxious. “You think it’s poisonous, don’t you? I can eat one first to show you!”

Wen Xin tousled the boy’s damp hair, ruffling it, and popped the pearl into his mouth before the child could act.

The smooth pearl dissolved instantly, melting into a warm stream that flowed through Wen Xin’s body, spreading to every limb and vein.

Meanwhile, the fishermen were struggling aboard one of the whaling ships.

Though they had subdued its crew, they had no idea how to stop the machinery.

Any misstep risked driving the harpoons deeper into the blue whale’s flesh.

Sweating with frustration, the fishermen hacked at the steel cables binding the whale, using their harpoons to cut through the unyielding metal.

It was then they heard a voice from the water below.

“Someone throw me a rope! I might be able to disable the machine!”

The fishermen looked down in astonishment.

When they recognized the face of the speaker, they were stunned.

“It’s that outsider!”

“How did he get here? Didn’t he say he couldn’t swim?”

The old man squinted, his gaze landing on something that made his pupils constrict in shock. He bellowed furiously, “Who gave him a blue pearl?!”

The blue pearl.

Despite the elder’s anger, some of the fishermen, desperate to save the whale, threw Wen Xin a rope without hesitation.

Hauling him aboard, they froze when they saw the faint fish-scale patterns on the left side of his face. Their minds went blank.

Wen Xin’s natural appearance was striking, the kind that left a lasting impression. The delicate fish scales on his pale skin didn’t make him seem monstrous—instead, they gave him an ethereal, almost hypnotic beauty, like a mythical mermaid breaking the surface of the sea.

Wen Xin felt a little dizzy as he staggered, his body unsteady. The elder rushed toward him in alarm.

“Who gave you the blue pearl? Was it Xiaowu?!” the old man demanded, barely containing his rage. “You haven’t been blessed by the Sea God—eating it will place an enormous strain on your body! That foolish boy, what was he thinking?!”

Wen Xin waved the elder off.

Taking a harpoon from one of the fishermen, he approached the whaling harpoon launcher. With swift, decisive movements, he dismantled its safety latch.

The steel cables holding the whale snapped loose, whipping through the air as the whale’s immense body heaved and thrashed.

Before the fishermen could celebrate, another projectile exploded above the whale, scattering a thick grayish-white powder.

The powder clung to the whale’s massive body, and its eyes began to turn a menacing shade of blood-red.

The stormy sea calmed for a moment—an eerie, unnatural stillness.

Two seconds later, the ocean erupted with unparalleled fury, waves rising like walls to crash down with devastating force.

On the cliff above, the leader of the armed men narrowed his eyes, a glint of triumph flashing in his gaze.

The harpoons were specially designed. Even if the cables were broken, the whale’s blood loss would continue to weaken it. The more it thrashed, the more it would exhaust its strength and will, making it an easy kill in the end.

As for the villagers who might be caught in the ensuing tsunami?

Their deaths were inconsequential.

The operation had consumed enormous resources—manpower, vehicles, and weaponry. If a tsunami hit, they wouldn’t be able to recover any of it.

With so much invested, they had to capture the blue whale. Failure was not an option.

The leader turned and barked orders. “Deploy more sedative gas. Everyone else, board the helicopters and prepare to evacuate.”

But just then, one of the scouts shouted in panic. “Impossible! How can this be?”

“What’s impossible?” the leader demanded, his face darkening.

“There’s… there’s a second S-class mutant in this sea!” the scout stammered. “No, not just two—there are three!”

The leader’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened in disbelief as he turned sharply, his expression grim. “What did you say?!”

Things were going badly for Wen Xin and the fishermen.

The blue whale’s rampage churned the sea into chaos, and the whaling ship tossed and turned like a leaf caught in a storm.

A massive wave hit the ship broadside, nearly capsizing it.

Wen Xin clung desperately to the ship’s railing as the salty spray pelted his overheated skin, leaving an icy, stinging ache in its wake.

Finally, the ship overturned.

Wen Xin plunged into the surging sea once more.

But this time, the blue pearl’s effects allowed him to adapt to the water. He could breathe as easily as on land.

Yet, his body burned with an unrelenting heat. His blood coursed through him with a frenzied intensity, leaving every vein throbbing with pain.

This… this must be the cost of taking the pearl without the Sea God’s blessing.

Wen Xin gritted his teeth against the discomfort.

He often prided himself on his rationality, but now, he felt as though he’d let that rationality slip away entirely.

Xiao Qi had repeatedly warned him not to eat random things. If it ever found out about this, Wen Xin could only imagine how furious it would be.

His mind wandered as he swam through the dim depths of the ocean.

Ahead, a slender shadow moved awkwardly yet determinedly toward him—a familiar figure.

Got you this time, Ah Lü.

Wen Xin smiled, extending his arms to embrace the massive, beautiful viper.

The sea swallowed up all sounds underwater, leaving the world eerily muted.

In that small window, he failed to notice a small shadow stealthily approaching his back.

Two pale, chubby hands, soft as lotus roots, reached out from behind and seized his shoulders, yanking him above the surface of the water.

Once again, Wen Xin missed seeing his snake.

Whatever had grabbed him was undeniably powerful, concealing its presence completely that Wen Xin remained unaware until he was hauled onto another whaling ship.

Coughing up seawater, he raised his head in surprise—only to find himself face-to-face with… a baby?

The child had blue hair, pale, tender skin, and clear, crystalline eyes that reflected Wen Xin’s image with an unsettling intensity.

Like a delicate, silent porcelain doll.

Wen Xin struggled to speak, his voice hoarse. “You are…”

Before he could finish, the baby abruptly leaned in, wrapped its small arms around Wen Xin’s face, and planted a loud kiss on his cheek.

“Mmwaah!”

Wen Xin was completely unprepared for this—being kissed by a baby was not something he had ever anticipated.

But almost immediately, he felt the unbearable heat in his body subside, the searing pain mysteriously ebbing away.

The baby smiled, nestling against him briefly before its expression turned somber and fierce.

Without hesitation, the child leaned backward off the ship’s railing and plunged straight into the sea.

“Wait!” Wen Xin’s heart clenched, and he instinctively reached out to grab the peculiar child.

But his hand caught only empty air.

Somehow, the blue whale’s rage had abated. The once-turbulent waters settled, their fury soothed.

Until the wind began to howl with ferocious abandon.

Suddenly, several parts of the sea erupted into whirlpools. Columns of water spiraled upward like liquid tornadoes, soaring into the sky.

A small blue seal had appeared atop the blue whale. At some point, it had climbed onto the massive creature’s back.

Lowering its head, the seal gently licked the blue whale’s horrific wounds.

Where skin had split and flesh had been torn apart, the wounds began to heal rapidly, knitting together with startling speed.

The little seal then lifted its head, its gaze sharpening as it locked onto the helicopters circling above.

What followed was like a scene from a fantastical movie, playing out before Wen Xin’s astonished eyes.