Chapter 496: Just Angry
Chapter 496: Just Angry
Even with her energy nearly gone, An Ran doesn’t stop. Death is certain anyway—she might as well pour herself dry, even if she never gets a grave. As long as she can destroy this monster.
She isn’t sure whether her power will kill it, but she instinctively senses it’s vulnerable. Like those other mutant plants—every time one rebels, a little of her energy turns it docile again.
And the giant fleshy flower is intimidated. Not because it can’t defeat An Ran, but because her madness shakes it. It falters. In that moment of distraction, it forgets about the two small, annoying lumps at its edge.
Those two lumps have almost dug out half its crystal core.
Meanwhile, An Ran looks like she’s dead—hanging limp in the vines, energy pouring out of her. She has lost control completely. Her ability user energy flows freely, automatically, just like when the flower feeds on humans.
The carnivorous flower stares, watching helplessly as An Ran drains like one of its own victims.
It forgets its core. Everything An Ran gives, it returns—everything it has, it gives her.
People say humans aren’t plants, so they can’t be heartless. But are plants heartless?
When they bloom, people cheer. When they wither, people mourn. Day follows night, year after year, blooming and dying. But sometimes, they get angry, and irritate their keeper.
Hasn’t it allowed her to slaughter her way from Xiangcheng, steal its soldiers, and do nothing?
It never wants to eat her.
It’s just angry.
No one knows what has happened between An Ran and the carnivorous flower. All they see is the monster attacking her. And if she dies, there’ll be no one left who can kill it. No one who can protect them. An Ran has held them all together.
Then, suddenly, the carnivorous flower begins to wither—visibly, rapidly. At the same time, An Ran’s shriveled, lifeless body begins to swell back to normal. No—fuller than normal. Her face turns rosy, her hair glossy and smooth.
And then—silence.
Zhang Boxun pulls out a palm-sized, diamond-shaped crystal core.
The vines that block Yun Tao and the others crumble to dust. The monstrous flowers that have taken so many lives collapse, no different now from any ordinary vine.
The air reeks of blood. Blood-red blossoms still cover half the Star District, but without the core, they are powerless.
Yun Tao, Zhao Ru, and Liang Ziyu rush to An Ran, propping up her limp form and calling her name.
Suddenly, she opens her eyes—bright green, like spring itself has bloomed inside them.
From the entrance of the underground garage, cheers erupt: “The crystal core! We’ve got the core!”