When Rick awoke from the darkness, the first thing that met his eyes was a dazzling white.
"Moya!—"
The final scenes of the battle flashed before him. Rick jolted awake, trying to stand, but his body felt weak and limp, too heavy to even lift an arm. Suddenly, a blurred silhouette appeared in his vision.
Gazing at the aged back, Rick sensed a familiar aura. "Who are you?"
"Oh, awake so soon? Your vitality is indeed extraordinary."
The figure turned, revealing a weathered face with a grizzled beard and countless wrinkles. Rick studied the septuagenarian—oddly dressed in a woolen sweater for the sweltering weather, leisurely holding a coffee and a newspaper, looking every bit a retired man enjoying his twilight years.
Yet for some reason, Rick felt an indescribable majesty. He scanned the old man's hands, recalling the sound of his voice... Suddenly, it clicked. "It's you!"
The old man nodded with a smile. "Apologies for hurting you earlier."
"Who are you? Why did you capture us?" Rick struggled to rise, but his limbs refused to obey.
"Best to stay still, child. When I knocked you out, I miscalculated—seems I applied too much force, slightly damaging your central nervous system. Nothing serious, though—it'll heal in a few hours." The old man rubbed his beard sheepishly, sitting beside Rick.
Gazing at the harmless smile, Rick sensed no malice. If the man had wished him harm, his terrifying strength could have killed him effortlessly. Reassured, he calmed, asking, "Why did you bring me here?"
"Mediation."
The old man smiled, eyes narrowing—fleeting sparks of insight made Rick feel transparent. This naked vulnerability made him uneasy; he shifted, avoiding the old man's gaze. "Fera called you 'President' and respected you—are you their leader?"
"You could say that." The old man sipped his coffee, folding the unfinished newspaper into his pocket. "Formally, I am Nanze, President of the Terry County Branch of the Insect Hunter Association."
"President of Terry County Branch!" Rick gasped. This unassuming old man was a major figure.
His astonishment was plain, making Nanze chuckle. "Now, let's get to business. I know the truth—you were innocent, caught in a turmoil."
"Yes! We were innocent!" Rick exclaimed.
"Easy. I'm not done." Nanze silenced him. "The trouble started with this bounty hunter, Nirvana Shust, hired to assassinate Kahn, leader of the Wolf Pack. He succeeded but got trapped in Yellowstone Forest. Spotting you two, he used you as bait to escape—unfortunately, you fell for it."
Hearing this, Rick seethed. He followed Nanze's gesture and saw Shust unconscious in the next bed, along with wounded Fera and Ross. At the far end, Moya lay with tubes inserted, under special care.
"Mo—Moya is alive? How is he?" Rick's eyes lit up.
"I arrived in time. He can be saved, but Ross's wasp venom was too potent. His body is fine, but his insect companion is lost."
Relieved Moya was out of danger, Rick shrugged off the loss of the scout insect—he owed Moya a combat egg anyway. Turning to Nanze, he said gratefully, "Thank you for saving Moya. I don't know how to repay you."
"Oh, you will soon." Nanze grinned craftily, sending a chill through Rick.
"What do you want me to do?"
"First, besides saving your friend, you can't atone for your crimes without compensation."
"Crimes? But we're innocent!"
"You still killed a man—indisputable. And... the insect in you wasn't hatched from an ordinary egg, was it?" Nanze eyed him meaningfully.
Rick fell silent, unsure how much the old man knew. "Fine, suppose I did wrong. What compensation do you want?"
"Later. First, tell me how you reached Terry County." Nanze produced a hand-drawn map. "Found on your friend. Amazing—you crossed both Hell's Corridor and Flame Mountain? Did you do it alone, or had help?"
"Alone." Rick said proudly.
"A miracle." Nanze nodded in approval. "If you truly crossed two forbidden zones unaided, I can entrust you with a daunting task."
"W-what task?" Rick felt a twinge of foreboding.
"Have you heard of the Hundred Years War Ruins? The Armance Wasteland."
"Vaguely. I know it's said to be the birthplace of insects."
"Yes, that's the cradle of insects. The major city lords once fought the unprecedented Hundred Years War over it. Now, this historic birthplace lies desolate, a world-famous forbidden zone. I need you to enter this forbidden land, find Terry County's descendants left there, and map the terrain in detail." Nanze smiled craftily. "For someone who crossed two forbidden zones, this shouldn't be hard, right?"
"Find Terry County's descendants? But so much time has passed..."
"Not really. Only 150 years since the Hundred Years War ended."
"150 years isn't long?!" Rick gaped.
"Hardly. Many live for centuries in this world." Nanze stroked his white beard.
"What if they refuse to come with me?"
"Not your problem. Just report their living conditions, location, and numbers."
"Ugh, another forbidden zone!" Rick wailed inwardly. All he wanted was a meal, yet "forbidden zone" kept haunting him.
"Can I refuse?" Rick asked miserably.
"Yes, but face the consequences." Nanze clapped, and a waiter entered. Without warning, the waiter's eyes bulged into giant compound eyes, hands sketching lightning-fast on paper. Seconds later, a portrait precise to the pores appeared.
"Amazing likeness!" Rick touched his face.
"The best portrait artist in Terry County—master master-tie)." Nanze took the drawing, scrawling "WANTED" below.
"WANTED?! You can't be serious!" Rick sprang up.
"Dead serious." Nanze eyed him flatly. "You killed a man. The bounty... equal to an insect-human hybrid? Or maybe a bit higher?"
Rick went pale. The old man's smiling face now sent chills down his spine. "So I have no choice."
"Not at all. I advocate democracy—you choose."
"Hypocrite!" Rick cursed inwardly.
"Hehe... You're not alone. Everyone here joins this mission. Disturbing Terry County's peace is a grave sin—compensation is due." Nanze stroked his beard.
"What? Work with them? No way! They might slit my throat at night."
"No choice. Bickering helps you grow. Your potential is immense—100% egg compatibility, first time I've seen it. Except for Shust, the rest can't match you. Once outside Terry County, do as you please with them."
"Oh!" Rick's eyes lit with an evil gleam.
"One catch: one-year deadline. I'm old—I can't wait forever. For one year, WANTED posters will plaster the continent. I'll issue a one-year probation bail—you'll be safe, but after that... who knows."
"Insidious..." Rick seethed.
"Seems you need rest. I'll leave you be." Nanze tucked away Moya's map, ready to go.
"Wait!" Rick stopped him, pointing at the map. "That's ours!"
"Ah, this..." Nanze laughed evasively. "Maps belong to the Association. Submitting to me saves you paperwork."
"But there's a reward! Forbidden zone maps are priceless!" Rick fumed as Nanze played dumb.
"Priceless? I have tons. The one who told you that lied. What's a piece of paper worth..." Seeing Rick's rage, Nanze changed tune: "Since you care, I'll pay a reward—one high-grade insect egg. Fair enough? Deal!" He vanished before Rick could reply.
"Swindler!" Rick yelled in the ward.
Three days later, Terry County streets.
Moya and Rick weaved through crowds, following signs to the Insect Association. This new city lacked Kester's grandeur—narrower roads, humbler houses—but everything was exquisitely crafted, making Rick gaze in wonder.
Moya, however, was morose, silent and glum. "Don't overthink it. A new egg could be good." Rick whispered.
"Easy for you. Finding the right egg is impossible." Moya sighed. "I'm ordinary now—nothing left."
"Don't be dramatic. Let's see what Nanze offers. I'll vouch for you." Rick persuaded.
Unknowingly, they reached the town square. A giant hunter statue stood central, built from Iron Beetle shells—each polished smooth, gleaming silver-gray in the sun, drawing travelers' stares.
A fanfare sounded as the City Lord's Guard began their daily flower-offering ceremony. To the beat of resounding drums, the guards marched in perfect formation, saluting the statue. Their blood-red uniforms and sturdy frames made them stand out. When the order came to lay flowers at the statue's base, the crowd erupted in applause.
"Look, why are they here?" Moya exclaimed.
"Who?" Rick squinted into the distance, spotting Fera and Ross chatting with a guard officer.
"Let's go. Seeing those two makes me sick—like stepping in shit." Moya still seethed over the forest incident.
"Relax. We mind our business. Unless they want a beating... They're no match for me now!" Rick glanced at them dismissively, unable to hide his pride.
"But why are they here?" Moya trailed after him.
"Forgot to tell you—we're teammates. Maybe they're heading to the meeting point. After your egg implantation, we meet them at 99 Triumph Avenue."
Moya stopped short, aghast: "What? Teammates with those two? Are you crazy?"
"Not my idea. Nanze ordered it. I couldn't refuse." Rick paused. "There's another member."
"Who?" Moya's expression collapsed.
"The liar, Shust." Rick said cautiously.
"Why arrange this?" Moya's face darkened. "I heard Terry County's Association President is ruthless—now I see why."
Mentioning Nanze, Rick sighed: "The old fox has us cornered. But what choice do we have with that WANTED poster..."
"I still don't get it. Is he using us? Doesn't he know we can't work together?" Moya wondered. Nanze using them made sense, but why include Shust and the Wolf Pack members?
"I told him, but he ignored me. Don't worry—I can handle Fera and Ross. As for Shust... I can't beat him, but he has no grudge against us." Rick grinned slyly. "Shust and the Wolf Pack are mortal enemies. Let them fight—we stay out of it."
After a meal, they reached Terry County's Insect Association building—a five-story structure with a golden dome. Many hunters entered, removing their badges as passes. The queue stretched to the door; they'd likely wait till midnight.
Just as Rick fretted, a waiter eyed them and approached briskly. "You're late." He scowled, scanning them. "Follow me."
Exchanging a confused look, Rick and Moya trailed him. "Nervous..." Moya took a deep breath.
"Me too." Rick glanced around, unsure.
They were led to a top-floor office. Inside, a massive nanmu desk buried under mountains of files—Nanze hunched over, reviewing documents.
"The old fox looks busy." Rick whispered in Moya's ear.
"Think he'll ignore us on purpose?" Moya asked.
"Probably not..." Rick nodded at walls lined with insect specimens. "He has so many insects—he can't be stingy with one for you."
"Right! He's the President—he must keep his word."
As they whispered, Nanze finished a stack of files. Looking up, he startled them: "When did you two get here?"
Caught off guard, they stood at attention: "A while ago, sir."
"Oh, here for the insect egg. Almost forgot. Lav!" Nanze rang a desk bell.
A 15-year-old girl entered, eyes lighting up with curiosity at Rick and Moya. "Lav, take them to the egg storage. Fetch an egg with this label." Nanze scribbled a tag.
"Okay, Grandpa." Lav stepped forward, noticing a file on Nanze's desk—Rick's WANTED poster.
"Also, make me tea after." Nanze grumbled, unaware of his granddaughter's peeking. "Terry County's coffee insects are getting worse."
"Will do, Grandpa. I'll make black tea." Lav scanned the file, smiled secretly, and motioned to Rick: "Follow me."
"So cute..." Rick gawked, drooling, as he and Moya trailed her obediently.