Valley on Alert

The moment I stepped out of the forest, the sun was already sinking toward the horizon. The sky had been dyed a dark red, as though soaked in blood. I trudged along the stone path back to the valley, feeling the wind close behind me with every step, like a pair of invisible hands pushing me onward.

That sweet, fishy smell had also surged into the mouth of the valley with the wind, like an unseen current seeping in along the lower ground. It was overwhelmingly strong and almost nauseating, yet it seemed to carry a mysterious allure that made me want to investigate its source.

After returning to camp, I had no time to rest and immediately began sorting through the various items I had collected that day. I carefully spread the fragments, hairs, and traces of liquid across a stone slab and examined their characteristics.

The first thing to catch my attention was the hard shell. Its density was far higher than I had imagined. When struck, it produced a deep, heavy sound, like hitting a thick bone. I gently ran my fingers over its surface and felt a rough texture, as though the shell had been formed through years of grinding and wear.

Next, I cautiously picked up the few short hairs and brought them close to my eyes, carefully examining their tips. To my surprise, the ends had a serrated structure, and the teeth were incredibly sharp, like miniature saws. Curiosity got the better of me, and I lightly dragged one of the hairs across a piece of cloth. The result shocked me—the cloth immediately bore a clear mark, as though it had been slashed with a knife.

Finally, I turned my attention to the mysterious puddle of liquid. In the firelight, it appeared dark green