In the deep, dark, endless seabed, a Humpback Whale swam leisurely.
From time to time, it slapped its tail and surged to the surface, spraying out the seawater accumulated inside its body through the blowhole atop its head. Whenever that happened, its naturally enormous tongue would lick once, drawing the elements lingering on the robot's surface onto its tongue.
Li Ziran leaned quietly against the back of his chair. Around him was darkness so complete he could not see his own hand. The only thing he could hear was the whale's deep calls from within, seemingly whale language. Unfortunately, he did not understand a word of it. If he had been a linguist, perhaps he could have communicated with the whale and had it take him somewhere safe.
He was safe—at least for now.
The saliva secreted in the creature's mouth was savoring him as a fine meal, but for now, it could not penetrate the defenses.
The creatures of the Outer Sea seemed to lack elements. Their organs could naturally absorb them. This giant whale's tongue alone could absorb every trace of residual elements left after the robot fired.
It was like certain creatures in the desert, capable of absorbing the moisture from grass roots. On the Red Soil Continent, such an ability would definitely have been extraordinarily formidable.
Yet here, it was commonplace. Even a top-tier Redtail Shrimp could absorb free-floating elements. Clearly, this was something Outer Sea creatures had evolved over countless years.
They seemed to have abandoned drawing elements from the Tide and instead returned to the more primitive methods of hunting and devouring.
After all, living beings themselves were collections of elements. Their unique organs could break those elements down into their most primordial forms before absorbing them.
Though this was far less advanced than