The barrel of the Roaring Flintlock suddenly swelled—just like a cartoon weapon.The metal bulged, puffing larger and larger, and inside the barrel, a cannonball was rolling as it too expanded.In reality, the whole process was as fast as a normal shot being fired, but thanks to Yang Yi’s threefold vision, he saw every detail clearly.Boom! Inside the cavern, both the Saltfolk and the loose sea salt on the ground were blasted upward by a violent shockwave.The flintlock’s barrel burst open like a morning-glory flower, and a cannonball over thirty centimeters in diameter tore free from the barrel—still swelling as it flew—until it became a one-meter-wide super-projectile that streaked toward its target, blowing open a several-meter-wide hole of flying flesh. Yang Yi’s mind blanked for a moment.The blast and the sound had stunned him.When he came to, he realized he’d been thrown backward, crashing into a layer of salt on the ground. Before he could react—A tremendous suction force pulled all the sea salt in the cavern—along with Yang Yi and the armor—into the passage and spat them out through the opening made by the Roaring Flintlock’s shot.Yang Yi regained mobility midair, drew the heavy Severed Iron sword, and used it to brace himself, preventing himself from being blasted off like the sea salt. He clung to the outer wall of the opening, Severed Iron stabbed into the fleshy wall, barely keeping his balance.But he looked terrible—his skin wrinkled, severely dehydrated, his body shrunken, about fifteen kilograms lighter, and his vitality down by more than thirty points.If his contact with the salt had lasted any longer, the consequences would’ve been far more severe. But Yang Yi didn’t rehydrate immediately—he was stunned by the environment inside.The fleshy walls of the spherical chamber were in a constant cycle of desiccation and rehydration, maintaining a dynamic equilibrium.It stayed balanced because the Rotting-Whale inhaled large amounts of fragrant sweet air with each breath, steadily restoring its vitality. Yang Yi had entered through the salt-exhaust passage, which was fairly spacious.But the inhalation passages were far narrower—less than ten centimeters in diameter, densely packed throughout the entire air chamber.All over the Rotting-Whale’s exterior were cracked openings, like parched earth at a glance. But inside each crack were countless intake channels, several centimeters wide, sucking in that sweet air like a sponge.At the same time, it absorbed water from the sea to keep itself from completely drying out and dying.So the oversaturated saltwater around the Rotting-Whale was simply water it had sucked in and expelled after extracting out the moisture. Without the intervention of the fragrant sweet air to break the balance, the whale would have had to spend all its strength merely staying alive—it wouldn’t have been able to struggle, purge the salt in its body, or regain vitality.At the center of the air chamber hung massive strands of flesh, suspending a tender white-pink sphere of flesh about ten meters wide—looking plump and delicious. The side facing Yang Yi was pearly, glossy, as if it would release juice if squeezed.But the other side was clearly abnormal.The closer it was to the far side, the deeper and more wrinkled the coloration became—evidence something was wrong there. From the bottom of the flesh-sphere, salt continuously precipitated and fell like an hourglass, gradually filling the air chamber.The closer to the far side, the more salt fell.In a short while, half the chamber was buried in salt, and countless Saltfolk were attacking the walls below. Soon, the chamber stopped expanding.Knowing what was coming, Yang Yi shifted position at once, keeping well clear of the exhaust port. He curled up, drove the wolf-claws of his boots into the wall, braced the Severed Iron sword—buried to the hilt—and raised his crystal greatshield to cover himself. The next moment, the internal air pressure surged, pressing him hard against the wall.The Rotting-Whale’s air chamber had begun contracting.Inhalation passages started to close. While the exhaust passages opened.Air blasted outward, carrying huge amounts of sea salt with it.The entire process lasted only a few seconds before the whale began inhaling again. Yang Yi was prepared and wasn’t blown away.He quickly pulled out vials of fresh water, downing them—emptying five bottles in under a moment—before his thirst finally eased. Then he began climbing toward the top of the chamber.He intended to use the dangling flesh strands to reach that white sphere. If he was right, the sphere was the Rotting-Whale’s core—it certainly resembled a ripe, swollen fruit.As he climbed, he had to time his movement with the whale’s gentle inhalation phase. If he moved during exhalation and slipped even slightly, he’d fall into the salt dunes below.The air chamber was clearly the whale’s core region—about 700 meters across. Yang Yi felt like a tiny insect inside it. As for the armor—Yang Yi didn’t spare it another thought.It had fallen into the salt pile when he entered, and by now it was already buried.Its mission was complete anyway. He could retrieve it later. After about forty minutes of climbing, Yang Yi finally reached the top of the chamber and began descending along the hanging flesh.These fleshy strands resembled stalactites that grew narrower toward the tip, their surfaces uneven.Even just climbing them, Yang Yi could feel the pulse of life inside—streams of fluid were being transported downwards to keep the flesh-sphere below from completely drying out. From this vantage point, he finally saw what was on the far side.The back side of the white flesh-sphere was severely dehydrated.Like fruit left out too long, parts were shriveled, darkened, even blackened. And in the center of that dried region was a giant—half buried in the flesh-sphere, only his head and neck exposed.The head alone was over a meter wide!With proportions of seven or eight heads tall—maybe even the legendary nine—his height would’ve pushed close to ten meters. But the giant’s head was dark brown and fully desiccated, with deep cracks and wrinkles, like something wind-dried on a mast for years.Yet the expression was twisted in rage.Frozen in place, but clearly furious—its face contorted, its eye sockets sunken, the eyeballs long shriveled away. In front of the giant, there was another person.His left arm was severed at the shoulder—cleanly, likely cut off.His body was completely dried out too, his clothes long gone—his limbs thin like sticks, skin clinging to bone like a mummy. A white short spear—seemingly made of salt—pierced straight through his chest.It was undoubtedly the Salt Wedge Yang Yi had been searching for.But how this man, impaled by the spear, ended up here—still in that state—was a mystery. His right hand had been thrust into the giant’s neck. Yang Yi instantly understood the giant’s expression.It probably meant:“How the hell are you not dead—and why did you chase me all the way in here?!”There must have been a rebellion on that ship. In the end, only one man reached this place—the Fruit of Plenty—and buried himself inside by some unknown means.But then the ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) man who should have died came after him like a vengeful ghost, wanting to drag him into death together…

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