Wasteland: I'm Really a Good Person and You Don't Believe It

Han Yan had hunted acid moths that could corrode steel plates, and also snatched complete cans from the arms of strangler vines. In this wasteland where steel and greenery are wildly intertwined, and where the only word left in the law is "live", he thought that his calloused heart would no longer be troubled by weird things. Until this rusty dawn. It stood quietly in the center of the dilapidated intersection, behind it was a huge fungus that had swallowed up half of the shopping mall. The cap glowed with an ominous flesh color in the thin sky. It was a mechanical wolf, the swan song of old-world industrial design. The streamlined titanium alloy shell was covered with scratches and rust, like a sculpture abandoned by time. But what really made Han Yan's breathing stop and his fingers subconsciously clasp the cold gun body was that in the middle of its back - in the gaps between the steel spines, there was a towering and trembling plant, an orchid that exuded a faint blue light. The petals are as thin as cicada wings, but the texture is as delicate as etched circuits. The gleaming light flows as if it contains a small star. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.