Chapter Twenty-Three

The bucket was filled with a jumble of amphibian hatchlings. As for why they were all amphibians—well, amphibians adapt exceptionally well, especially the Marshland Giant Lizard, a true jack-of-all-trades. In the wild, these Marshland Giant Lizards could be called streetwise wanderers. But don’t mistake that for weakness; on the contrary, there was hardly anything on the streets that could take them on. Some monstrous giant crocodiles might stand a chance, but sorry, those wild crocodiles are far too ferocious to saunter into human-inhabited areas.

Wild Marshland Giant Lizards, apart from the timid newborns, grew up bold. Adults could swagger out of dungeons, return at set times as if obeying traffic lights, crossing roads like it was a daily routine. Some even sought out humans of their own accord to form a contract.

In southern cities or countries, it wasn’t unheard of for a Marshland Giant Lizard to strut down the street with a proud, indifferent gait, suddenly take notice of someone and follow them home, submitting to a contract without protest.

Among amphibians, their temperament was the most affectionate toward people, their intelligence quite formidable, and their skill pool deep—they seemed to have everything. Cheng Yuan, looking into the bucket, was inclined toward this versatile and adaptable creature.

He began weighing the other hatchlings in the bucket. The Black Swamp Armored Crocodile, like the Weijin White Tiger, possessed the ability to fight above its rank, though it had a long maturation period, becoming an unstoppable force only in the late stages.

Teamed up with the little tiger, they’d be a double powerhouse. On land, the Black Swamp Armored Crocodile’s enormous size, sturdy scales, and formidable skull would make quick work of most disaster-grade monsters. Its bite alone could leave even the toughest monsters questioning their existence.

And in the water? Simply put, it was invincible in its habitat—literally. Even young disaster-class monsters looking to reshape the ecosystem would think twice before challenging a mature, wild Black Swamp Armored Crocodile, a meat-eating juggernaut.

Yet, at this moment, the future powerhouse among the hatchlings appeared the most timid, curled up in a corner with a Steeljaw Snapping Turtle perched on its back. Cheng Yuan knew that this apparent cowardice was just a façade—a sign of a creature keenly aware of its place in the world.

Then there was the Ice Jade Salamander, named for its translucent skin that resembled the purest jade. Surely the most beautiful in the bucket, it looked plump and harmless, but appearances were deceiving. The Ice Jade Salamander was a specialist, known as the “Frost Mage” among its kind.

Whereas other monsters could learn a variety of skills, the Ice Jade Salamander’s skill pool was exclusively ice-based. Before reaching maturity, it could even freeze itself to death with its own powers. Seemingly frail and reckless, yet upon maturing, it would gain the ability to disregard elemental disadvantages entirely.

Fire-based foes? Meaningless. The salamander’s ice talents were so potent that they could exchange breath attacks with fire dragons and come out dazzling. There were even records of them winning such contests against the odds. If teamed with the little tiger, its ice specialization could halve the combat effectiveness of most flying monsters. Combined with the tiger’s thunderous roar, they could create localized no-fly zones and drastically weaken airborne threats.

In water, the salamander was no match for the speed of crocodilian monsters, but its control of ice, combined with its innate talent, allowed it to hold its own in direct combat, even if it couldn’t defeat a fully matured Black Swamp Armored Crocodile. It could still put up a fight and be a persistent nuisance, and the odds of encountering such a monster were slim anyway—true powerhouses were rare, as resources for nurturing them were always limited.

The Ice Jade Salamander’s abilities were, without doubt, impressive.

Then there was the Steeljaw Snapping Turtle, which currently sat atop the Black Swamp Armored Crocodile. Their relationship could be summed up in one sentence: in the early stages, the turtle was the boss; in the later stages, it became prey. Of course, this only applied to those exceptionally rare, fully matured crocodiles.

As a creature boasting both offense and defense, the Steeljaw Snapping Turtle was extraordinarily resilient. It might not always win a fight, but neither could most opponents defeat it easily.

Other hatchlings had their own quirks as well: the Azure Water White-lipped Snake, with a chance to evolve into a dragonkin, or the Joyous Wavejumping Giant Frog, whose only goal seemed to be leaping playfully through the surf.

Cheng Yuan hesitated. Each of these creatures had excellent potential. Just picturing the possible combinations with the little tiger’s future abilities, there were already so many enticing options. Except for the Marshland Giant Lizard, which was relatively cheap, any of the others would cost his father a month’s salary.

Faced with such a difficult choice, Cheng Yuan couldn’t help but sigh. “Which one should I choose as the little tiger’s companion?” Then, a crucial thought struck him: if he couldn’t decide, why not let the little tiger choose? After all, one should pick their own teammate. He called the little tiger down from the tree it was climbing.

Pointing at the industrial bucket, Cheng Yuan said, “Pick one.” The little tiger, seeing the familiar bucket, associated it with food—after all, Cheng Yuan always fed it fish from such buckets. As far as the tiger was concerned, this was just another container of snacks.

The little tiger reached into the bucket, swiping curiously with its paw. The hatchlings gaped in fear, but their mock intimidation had no effect on the tiger. The Black Swamp Armored Crocodile, with its spikes and tough, bony body, looked unappetizing—too bony and not enough meat. The tiger ignored it. The Marshland Giant Lizard, sensing the gaze of a predator, was just starting to panic when, suddenly, blood splattered across its face.

Cheng Yuan cried out in alarm. “I told you to pick a teammate, not to eat one!” The little tiger was already chewing on a white, scaleless body—the most valuable creature in the bucket: the Ice Jade Salamander. Plump and attractive, with no scales, it looked far more appetizing than the Marshland Giant Lizard.

Cheng Yuan pulled the little tiger’s head out of the bucket, watching as it looked back at him in confusion, still gnawing on the salamander’s corpse. With a sigh, Cheng Yuan gave up. There was no saving it. What was gone, was gone.

He replaced the lid on the bucket and began to explain things to the little tiger. After a while, the tiger seemed to understand, but by then, the salamander was already gone. When it learned that the creature it had just eaten was worth over a hundred fish, the little tiger, for the first time, felt a sense of loss. Though it had tasted delicious, it certainly wasn’t filling—over a hundred fish would have lasted much longer.

The little tiger stuck its head into the bucket a second time. This time, all the hatchlings cowered in terror. Each possessed the potential to become a true king, and their intelligence was nothing to scoff at. The sight of the little tiger devouring the Ice Jade Salamander had been, for them, the equivalent of a horror film come to life.