Mated to the Beast of the Wasteland (Gillian and Merrick) novel Chapter 257

Chapter 257 Pain Meant a Crack

Chapter 257 Pain Meant a Crack

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The captured parasite was screaming its head off, fighting the Truth Serum with everything it had.

Elara’s brow pulled tight as she stared it down, like she was trying to dig its secrets straight out of it. “How many flower beasts did you steal before? Where did the rest of them go?” she demanded.

It clamped its jaw shut and refused to talk, so the only thing coming out of its mouth was a muffled, wet noise.

But Elara could still pick out bits and pieces from the garbled sounds slipping through. “Thousands? Eat?”

Gillian caught the blood spilling from the corner of its mouth.

It’d rather die than talk?

She pushed up her sleeve and showed her arm. The puncture wounds had healed over, just faint white dots left behind.

Sure enough, its eyes shifted the second it saw them.

“You recognize these, huh?” Gillian’s voice went cold. “Thought you wouldn’t.” She lifted a hand to her own face and mimed peeling the skin off, slow and deliberate. “The one who fed on my blood-was it Riley? Or Avery?”

The names hit it like a blade. Its eyes went wild, and for a second it looked like it wanted to tear her apart with its teeth. It stopped fighting and spat the words out, thick with blood and pain. “Riley. It was… Riley.”

Good. Pain meant something. Pain meant a crack she could work.

Gillian pulled her sleeve down, taking her time with it, and let a look of fake realization cross her face. “Right, right. Riley. Now I remember,” she said.

“What did you do to her?” The parasite’s voice cracked with rage.

“What did I do?” Gillian’s tone went sharp with satisfaction, and she leaned into it. “You want to know how I got out? A whole basin of heat powder, dumped right on both of them. Those two crimson hides didn’t even know what hit them. They went limp and died on the spot.”

Something in those words tripped a wire. The parasite stopped holding back and fixed her

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Chapter 257 Pain Meant a Crack

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with a look of pure venom. “You love those flower beasts so much, don’t you? They were our fuel. Every last one. We fed on them to grow our beastman forms. We ate them all. All of them!” it screamed.

Gillian had already guessed as much. These scale parasites were nothing but leeches. They’d hatched, feeding on Wasteland City soldiers, used the flower beasts to push their evolution, and then slipped off to Capital Planet to live it up.

“The connection between the Central World and the Outer Planet-is it a rift? A formation? A wormhole? Or a wrist terminal arena?” Elara cut in without missing a beat, picking up the rhythm with Gillian like they’d rehearsed it. Her questions came fast and precise, each one stranger than the last.

“Arena,” it blurted.

The word slipped out before it could catch it, and the second it did, its face went dead. It knew what it had just given up.

Gillian felt the pieces click. The Phoenixkin hadn’t built that research base here by accident.

These things have a wrist terminal. One that can reach the Central World.

She locked eyes with it and pushed. “Where’s your wrist terminal?” she asked.

“It’s… in… the old…”

It knew that if it said another word, it would be a traitor to its own kind. A vicious grin split its face, and it detonated its own core. The Paralysis Serum was still in its system, so the blast didn’t go far-just turned it into a cloud of blood mist.

Merrick had been watching it the whole time. The second the self-detonation started, he hit the switch and dropped the full voltage.

The blood mist crackled and burned to ash. They weren’t taking any chances with these things. A single scrap of hide was enough to crawl back from the dead if it found something to feed

“Merrick, Elara, what do you think it meant?” Gillian asked. “The old something? Their main nest?”

“Probably.” Merrick took her hand and frowned at how cold her fingers were. She’d lost too much blood and hadn’t built her strength back yet.

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