The one-armed man was named Liu Song. This time, he had formed a team with more than a dozen like-minded friends and entered the Ancient City together to explore and hunt for treasure.
In the early stages of their expedition, their luck had been exceptional. Everything went smoothly, and they found quite a few rare ores, reaping a bountiful harvest.
Based on what they had gained at the time, if they had known when to be content, stopped in time, and returned the way they came, each person's share would have been enough to support ten years of future cultivation.
But the human heart was never satisfied, like a snake trying to swallow an elephant. Blinded by the profits before their eyes, every one of them lost their heads.
Driven by greed, they insisted on venturing deeper into the heart of the Ancient City in search of more treasures—and ultimately paid a grievous price for it.
While the team was making its way into the depths, they were suddenly ambushed by an extraordinarily ferocious mutated beast.
That mutated beast was absurdly powerful. After a brutal battle, the entire team was wiped out. Every companion perished, and only Liu Song had managed to escape by sheer luck, losing an arm in the process.
All the resources the team had painstakingly acquired were also lost on the battlefield. It had truly been like drawing water with a bamboo basket—nothing left in the end.
After hearing Liu Song's tragic account, Lin Li was filled with sighs and said emotionally, "What a pity. If only you had stopped and withdrawn a day earlier, your teammates wouldn't all have died, and you wouldn't have ended up fleeing alone."
Remembering that desperate fight and the gruesome deaths of his companions, Liu Song was overwhelmed by grief.