The Wicked Female Is Wild and Scheming, Living in a Love Battlefield Every Day-Chapter 95: What’s Wrong? Scared?

His movements were swift and efficient, as if this sort of thing was second nature to him.

Although Luna Sutton was aware of the harsh survival rules in the beast world and had witnessed plenty of bloody and nauseating scenes during the apocalypse, this current scene still made her uncomfortable, causing her stomach to churn.

She instinctively took a step back, avoiding looking at the mangled corpse.

Corbin Crowley glanced coldly at her, his silver eyes indifferent.

He slowly shook off the blood stains from his wolf claws, transformed back into his human form, and with his tall figure approached Luna Sutton, his voice icy and deep: "What, are you scared?"

Though she felt a bit apprehensive inside, she forced herself to act calm, "Scared? What haven’t I, Luna Sutton, seen? A mere wolf pelt, what’s there to be scared of."

Corbin sneered, evidently not believing her words.

He stepped closer, casting a tall shadow over her, looking down at her with a dangerous undertone in his voice: "Really? Then why were you trembling just now?"

Luna Sutton was pressured to take half a step back, her expression slightly wavering, yet she stubbornly retorted: "I suddenly felt a bit cold, the wind is strong by Umbraflow, and I’m not wearing much, anything wrong with that?"

Corbin raised an eyebrow, his silver eyes flashing with amusement: "Oh? Want me to warm you up?"

As he spoke, he reached out to pull her in.

She hurriedly dodged back, laughing awkwardly: "No, no, I’m not cold anymore, really."

Glancing at the blood-soaked wolf pelt on the grass not far away, she shuddered and fiercely resisted the dog man’s approach.

Corbin looked at her resistant expression, knowing that she was scared by his methods, retracted his hand, and said flatly: "Alright, stop pretending. Don’t I know what kind of person you are?"

He bent down to pick up the blood-soaked wolf pelt on the ground, and casually tossed it at her feet, indifferent: "I’ll give you this wolf pelt, do whatever you want with it, just don’t make underwear out of it."

With that, he turned and walked toward the forest.

After a few steps, he stopped, his gaze falling in a particular direction—there he saw the shock and fear-stricken face of Jett.

His expression shifted slightly, knowing that Jett had come to check the situation due to the noise, glanced at him indifferently, then walked away.

Jett felt relieved as Corbin left.

Following the noise and smell, he had arrived just in time to witness the entire scene unfold, saying he wasn’t shocked would be a lie.

He had seen for himself the ruthlessness of Corbin.

Not knowing about Ironblade’s attempt to assault Luna Sutton, he assumed Corbin was taking revenge.

On the cliff that day, Ironblade’s antics were plain for all to see.

Whether intentional or not, causing Corbin and the others to fall from the cliff was a fact.

Jett watched Corbin’s departing figure, then looked at the blood-soaked wolf pelt on the ground as well as the skinned corpse, feeling a wave of fear.

He couldn’t help but shiver, quickly retracting his gaze, and then started running.

It’s too terrifying!

Leaving this place quickly would be wise.

Luna Sutton watched as Jett fled in panic, feeling somewhat amused.

She bent down to pick up the wolf pelt at her feet, it felt warm to the touch, with a faint scent of blood.

This wolf pelt was very complete, with dense fur, if properly treated, it could definitely be used for making something.

However, thinking it was skinned from Ironblade, she felt repulsed.

But then she thought, as a trophy, it’d be wasteful not to keep it.

Furthermore, this wolf pelt was indeed rather good, it’d be a shame to throw it away.

With this mindset, she proceeded to pick up the wolf pelt and went to wash and treat it by the Umbraflow.

Fresh wolf pelts need to be treated before they can be used.

It’s sunny now, could be dried properly after treatment.

Squatting by the Umbraflow, she cleaned the wolf pelt while muttering to herself: "Life in the beast world is certainly thrilling, constant skinning and tendon-pulling, even bloodier than the apocalypse."

Umbraflow’s waters were crystal clear, she immersed the wolf pelt, attentively scrubbing it, trying to remove the blood stains and dirt.

After cleaning it thoroughly, she proceeded to a simple treatment.

Finally found a sunny spot to spread it out for drying, "If this wolf pelt is made into a cape, it could look quite cool, but the dog man actually said not to make underwear from it, tsk, what’s going on in his mind?"

Upon returning to the cave, she found her woven baskets and rattan boxes were gone.

She paused slightly, knowing Corbin took them, but didn’t really care.

Over at The Salt Lake.

Finn Arcanus was unaware of Ironblade’s demise, was very pleased to see Corbin return with baskets, and casually took them to fill with salt.

Corbin continued working as usual, as if Ironblade’s matter was merely a small Chapter.

Jett returned closely behind, his expression somewhat off, his eyes darting around, occasionally glancing at Corbin, afraid of displeasing him and receiving a claw himself.

Finn noticed his odd demeanor, couldn’t help but frown, walked over and asked: "Jett, what’s wrong with you? You look awful, didn’t I send you to check the situation? What’s going on with Ironblade?"

Upon hearing Finn’s questioning, Jett’s face turned even paler, his eyes flickering, stammering in reply: "No... nothing, Ironblade... he accidentally slipped and fell into the Umbraflow, the water is fast, he got swept away."

"Accidentally fell into the Umbraflow and got swept away?"

Finn frowned, clearly skeptical of the explanation.

Ironblade was at the Peak of Tier Four Beastman, strong-bodied, even if he fell into the Umbraflow, he could quickly climb ashore.

Not to mention the absurdity of being swept away, unless he fainted unknowingly.

Yuri Ashwood also sensed Jett’s odd behavior, squinted, approached coldly: "Jett, are you hiding something from us? What’s really happened to Ironblade?"

Jett was sweating profusely under their questioning.

He subconsciously glanced at Corbin, who was collecting salt not far away, feeling a wave of dread.

No way he’d dare tell the truth?

If Corbin knew he blabbed, he’d probably be skinned next.

He gritted his teeth, stubbornly continued: "Really... he just slipped into the river, perhaps it happened too suddenly, he didn’t react, and with the fast currents, he got swept away. When I arrived it was too late, no time to rescue."

Finn and Yuri exchanged glances, evidently half-convinced by Jett’s explanation.

But seeing his nervous demeanor, they understood the matter was surely more complicated.

However, Ironblade was insidious, with poor relations among the beastmen, no one really liked him.

Seeing him down on luck, many beastmen were secretly gleeful.

No intention of searching for him.

The river’s fast and winding, god knows how many hidden caves there are nearby, nobody knew where he’d be swept off to.

Taking the time to look for him, better to produce more salt.

That’s the priority.

Finn didn’t press further, simply said: "Alright, if nothing happened just leave it, hurry up with the work, a lot needs doing at the salt field."

Jett, feeling as if granted amnesty, swiftly ran to one side, burying himself in work, fearing further questions.

Corbin placed the baskets and rattan boxes aside, glanced at Jett calmly, a subtle curve at his lips.

He knew Jett was lying, but didn’t desire to clarify Ironblade’s matter.

Such scum deserved to die.

As for whether Jett would spill the truth, he didn’t care.

Ironblade had plotted against him first, then attempted to assault Luna Sutton; even if the leader knew the truth, he wouldn’t speak up.

Corbin ignored the others, concentrated on collecting the coarse salt that had crystallized, storing it in baskets.

He worked elegantly and efficiently, soon filling several baskets.

Finn and Yuri exchanged looks, perceiving each other’s eyes with confusion.

They both sensed that Corbin seemed to have acquired a chillier aura that wasn’t present before.

However, neither of them asked, instead focusing on the work.

As the sun gradually set, a day’s labor neared its end.

Everyone gathered around the fire, roasting meat, chatting, laughing.

Only Quinn Morgan sat silently in a corner, gnawing on roasted meat, not speaking.

Corbin didn’t join them, instead took his meat and headed toward the cave.