The giant wasp buzzed with fury, its voice trembling with rage. "You dare insult me? Do you have any idea how serious the consequences will be?"
Han Feng's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. "After you stung someone, didn't you lose your stinger? No stinger, no threat—what exactly are you planning to do to me?"
"Human, you're too naive!" the wasp sneered, its tone brimming with arrogance. "You think I'm some ordinary wasp? Let me enlighten you—I can grow a new stinger!"
"So, you're saying you've already got a fresh one ready?" Han Feng's brow furrowed. A wasp with a stinger versus one without was a whole different ballgame. He'd need to tread carefully.
"Of course! Why else would I come looking for you?" the wasp boasted, its confidence practically oozing through the air.
Han Feng narrowed his eyes, mulling it over for a moment before speaking. "How about I offer you something as compensation? Then you leave me alone."
"What, scared already?" the wasp taunted, before adding, "What've you got for me?"
"I'll show you," Han Feng replied casually. He turned and headed into the thatched hut, but as he did, a glint of cold cunning flashed in his eyes.
Inside, he grabbed the can of insecticide, tucking it behind his back. Then, with an air of nonchalance, he strolled back out. "Human, what's this great thing you're hiding? Hurry up and let me see!" the wasp demanded, buzzing eagerly.
"I've got a bottle of 'happy fairy juice' for you!" Han Feng said, a sly grin creeping across his face as he aimed the can at the wasp.
The wasp, unfamiliar with insecticide, tilted its head curiously. "What's that supposed to do?"
"One little spray, and you'll be floating on cloud nine. Let me give you a demo," Han Feng chuckled. With that, he pressed the nozzle.
Pssht! A cloud of pungent white mist burst forth, surging toward the wasp. The moment the acrid scent hit, the wasp realized something was wrong. It flapped its wings frantically, trying to escape—but it was too late. The mist enveloped it completely.
"Argh!" A piercing shriek rang out as the wasp crashed to the ground, writhing in agony.
"Think you can take me on? You've got the skills for that?" Han Feng jeered, then gave it another quick spritz for good measure.
The wasp gurgled, white foam spilling from its mouth. It was clearly done for. Watching it squirm, Han Feng felt a twinge of pity. In the spirit of mercy, he hefted the engineer's shovel and brought it down hard on the wasp's head, putting it out of its misery.
"Big bro, when it comes to playing dirty, you're on another level. I'm in absolute awe!" the shovel piped up, its tone dripping with admiration.
Han Feng's face darkened instantly. "If you can't say something decent, don't talk to me at all!"
The shovel fell silent, baffled. What had it said wrong this time?
Ignoring it, Han Feng turned his attention to the wasp's corpse. At its tail end, a sharp black stinger protruded—a potent little weapon. If he could coat it with some of that black beetle venom he'd collected, its toxicity would skyrocket. It might even be enough to take down that black wolf in one shot. A plan began to take shape in his mind.
Carefully, he extracted the stinger and stashed it alongside the beetle's remains. Then, grabbing his shovel, he left the shelter, heading straight for the beach where he'd dug clams the day before.
A few minutes later, he arrived at the shoreline and paused to take in the scene. The beach stretched out quiet and empty—no sign of those two big crabs. Maybe they'd moved on, or perhaps they were napping under the sand. He shrugged and ambled over to the lone tree nearby. "Hey, tree buddy! How's it going?"
The tree didn't respond, still sulking over Han Feng peeling its bark the previous day. Han Feng's eyes narrowed. He waved the shovel threateningly. "What's your deal, huh? I'm saying hi—got no manners? Cat got your tongue?"
Startled by his menacing tone, the tree stammered, "S-sorry, I was napping. Didn't hear you."
"No worries, keep snoozing," Han Feng said with a smirk, strolling toward the sand.
As he walked away, the tree muttered under its breath, "What a jerk."
Reaching the beach, Han Feng cleared his throat. "Hey, little sandy, any clams around here?"
"Nope, not a single one," the sand replied.
Han Feng frowned. "This place is huge—how can there be no clams? You pulling my leg?"
"What's in it for me to lie?" the sand shot back.
"Then why aren't there any?" Han Feng pressed.
"Last night, a big gang of red pine crabs rolled through," the sand explained. "They raided the place and gobbled up every last clam."
"D*mn it!" Han Feng cursed, kicking at the ground. He'd claimed those clams as his own private stash, and now some red pine crabs had the gall to swipe them from his turf? Unforgivable!
"Big bro, since there's no clams left, let's just head out," the shovel suggested.
Han Feng pondered for a moment before asking the sand, "What about those two big crabs that used to hang out here? Did the red pine crabs eat them too?"
"Nah, those two were sharp," the sand replied. "The second they saw how many red pine crabs there were, they bolted."
"Good to know they're still kicking," Han Feng said, exhaling in relief.
The shovel piped up, confused. "Big bro, I thought you didn't get along with those crabs. Why the sudden concern?"
Han Feng grinned. "If we spot a treasure chest out in the water someday, who's gonna haul it up? Gotta count on those crabs."
"Oh, so that's your angle!" the shovel said, finally catching on.
"Little sandy, where'd those crabs scamper off to?" Han Feng asked. With no clams here, he figured he'd check out a new spot—and maybe see how those crabs were holding up.
"Head past the reefs on your right," the sand said. "There's another beach over there—my cousin's turf. That's where they went."
"Even beaches have family ties now?" Han Feng muttered to himself, then started walking right.
But before he'd gone far, a mocking voice cut through the air. "Hey, human, back to strut your stuff again?"
Han Feng stopped dead, whipping around to lock eyes with a massive oyster—the same one he'd tangled with yesterday. His gaze hardened, a cold smile creeping onto his face. "What, you think I can't handle you?"
The oyster let out a hearty laugh. "Can't you live without bragging? I'm right here—go ahead, show me what you've got!"
Han Feng's temper flared. This oyster had some nerve, taunting him like that. He tightened his grip on the shovel, weighing his options. Yesterday, it had been a standoff, but today? He wasn't in the mood to back down. That wasp had already tested his patience, and now this shellfish was begging for a lesson.
The oyster sat smugly in the shallows, its shell glinting under the sun. Han Feng's mind raced. He could try cracking it open, but that'd take effort—and probably a lot of swearing. Or he could outsmart it, like he had the wasp. His eyes flicked to the stinger in his pouch. Poison might not work on an oyster, but there had to be a way to shut it up.
For now, he'd play it cool. "Keep talking," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "We'll see who's laughing soon enough."
The oyster chuckled again, unfazed. Han Feng turned back toward the reefs, plotting his next move. This wasn't over—not by a long shot.