Trafficked: Reborn Heir's Revenge-Chapter 23: Desert of Scorpions and Regret

Chapter 23: Desert of Scorpions and Regret

The first thing Oliver noticed was the sun. It was red—unnaturally red—and hung high in the sky like a bloodshot eye watching his every move. The heat pressed against his skin like a punishment. His lips were dry, cracking at the edges. Sweat rolled down his temple, only to evaporate before reaching his chin. It was that hot.

He blinked slowly, adjusting to the harsh light. The world around him was a wasteland. Sand stretched endlessly in every direction—some patches flat, others littered with steep, jagged hills. But it all looked the same. No civilization. No shelter. Just dunes... and strange, bloated desert carcasses—plants, maybe? They looked half-dead, with blue bulbous growths hanging off them like tumors. He instinctively knew not to touch them.

And then, in the sky—hovering high above like a warning from the gods—symbols began to form. Blood-red letters, dripping like fresh ink, assembled themselves into twisted glyphs only he could read.

> [Night Trial: Phase One – Initiated]

Duration: 72 Hours (Nightmare Time) / 8 Hours (Real Time)

>

Oliver squinted. "Seventy-two hours?"

Before he could finish that thought, the air shimmered. And then, a red floating skull drifted into view across the dunes like a balloon from hell. A familiar one. Even though this was the first time he was seeing his bloodline will in this form, he just knew this was it.

"Rise and grind, blood boy!" it cackled. "What's the delay? Waiting for the scorpions to tuck you in?"

Oliver flinched. "What... scorpions?"

The ground rumbled.

A low tremor passed through his feet, vibrating up his spine. He looked up, squinting toward the horizon. Dust clouds rose. Dozens—no, hundreds—of sharp-legged, glossy-red creatures skittered across the sand. Each one the size of a chair, some even larger. Their armored tails curled menacingly behind them, dripping with venom that hissed as it touched the sand.

More text in bloody red appeared above.

> [Trial Objective: Vengeance of the Wastes]

100 Bottomless-Bellied Desert Bloody Scorpions have taken over this land, killing its people, poisoning its soil, and consuming all life—save for the accursed poisonous Blue Carcass Plant.

Objective: Kill Count – 0/100

Duration: 72 Hours

The people cry for justice. Be their blade.>

The Bloody skull representing his bloodline will bobbed closer, its hollow eye sockets flaring with amusement. ><"Nothing like genocide-by-arachnids to build character, huh?">

Oliver turned. His instincts to survive had kicked in, and it told him one thing, 'RUN'.

The sand shifted awkwardly beneath his boots, making each step a battle. Hills rose and fell before him. He sprinted up one dune, legs screaming already. When he glanced back, the swarm followed. A wave of crimson carapace, stabbing legs, and clashing pincers. Left or right—wherever he turned, they turned with him.

Even hiding behind the Blue Carcass Plant tge size of an adult male did nothing to help his situation. It was as if they always knew where he was.

Hours passed.

Or maybe it was just minutes that felt like hours.

The red sun never moved so he could not even tell what the time was.

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His tongue felt like it had been replaced with a strip of cracked leather. Every breath scraped down his throat like sandpaper. His shirt clung to him, soaked through and dry again within seconds. His legs burned, muscles trembling. The only thing keeping him upright was his sheer unwillingness to be meat for monsters.

His interface flashed again briefly—his Mental Endurance stat pulsing softly.

> [Mental Endurance – A+]

>< Heehee... very tenacious fellow. You shouldn't be alive. But here you are.>

He stumbled. Fell once. Got up again. But his body was failing. His calves knotted. His back ached. His ankles wobbled with every step.

><"Come on, princey,"> the skull mocked behind him, floating lazily like it wasn't burning in hell's oven. "Weren't you all 'I want Vengeance and blood.' Swaggering your silent resolve? Show you are worthy of it."

The taunts from the floating skull did not help one bit.

Just then, it happened. His foot twisted.

A dune collapsed under his step, sending him tumbling. He crashed hard into the sand, rolling and skidding until he landed in a painful heap. When he looked down, his right ankle was bent at a sick angle. The sight alone made him gag.

"Great," he muttered, half-delirious. "Because burning under this heat, and eaten alive wasn't enough."

He tried crawling. The sand was molten against his skin, scorching his elbows and knees. But behind him—closer now—came the chittering sound of scorpion legs dragging across the dunes. He could hear their pincers snapping. Their breathing. Wet and rhythmic, like a death chant.

Oliver's arms shook. His vision blurred. Every inch of his body screamed to stop. To just... give up.

"I didn't ask for this," he whispered. "I didn't ask for any of this..." yet, he did not stop moving. He just couldn't.

The skull, now floating upside-down above him, sighed dramatically. ><"But you did—You did accept a demon's bloodline. Comes with some fine print, you know? Clause One: run 'til your feet break. Clause Two: die if you don't. Heehee.">

A tear slipped down Oliver's cheek. The pain was no funny matter. Parts of his body had already gone numb.

He looked back—too late. One of the scorpions had reached him. Its body towered over him. Its black eyes were wide and soulless, glinting with cruel hunger. Its tail, long and segmented like a chain of knives, raised high above. Venom glistened on its tip, green and bubbling like acid. Its pincers clicked rapidly, impatient.

Time slowed.

Oliver stared up at death. And in that moment—when he was sure he'd die in the sand, alone and broken—a sound cut through the heat.

DING!

Everything froze.

The scorpion's tail hung mid-air, its poison vibrating in suspended time. The sand beneath him stopped shifting. Even the heat lost its bite.

And then, the sky above cracked.

The desert shattered like glass—and Oliver's body snapped back into the hard wood of the ship, drenched in sweat, chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm. His ankle was fine. The sun was gone. But his heart kept pounding like it hadn't noticed the change.

He was awake. But just as the alerts came in, Oliver noticed another problem from the corner of his eyes...