The Wicked Female Is Wild and Scheming, Living in a Love Battlefield Every Day-Chapter 82: Finally Meeting

If Luna Sutton knew his thoughts, she would probably spray him with saliva.

Cut off an ugly nose? What kind of logic is that? Wouldn’t it look even uglier without a nose?

Fortunately, she wasn’t aware of these thoughts, just focused on eating grilled fish, "crunch, crunch, crunch..." finishing a whole one in a few bites.

Corbin Crowley glimpsed her ungraceful way of eating and twitched the corner of his mouth.

This fat woman truly has no sense of propriety.

He didn’t stand there for long and turned to go hunting.

The grilled fish just now wasn’t even enough to fill his teeth; he naturally needed to find food to satiate his hunger.

Quinn Morgan relaxed a bit when Corbin left; this Beastman was truly intimidating, with an incredibly powerful presence.

With him around, she didn’t even dare to breathe loudly.

She looked at Luna Sutton, seeing how tasty her food looked; she couldn’t help but swallow a mouthful of saliva.

She had only eaten a bit of Warwick’s grilled meat in the morning, and hadn’t started lunch when this terrifying Beastman, Corbin, appeared and killed Warwick within minutes.

Soon after, she ended up here, her stomach already starving. Watching Luna Sutton relish her food, she felt even hungrier.

But she didn’t dare to ask for food.

Though she didn’t remember the past or who this woman was, she could tell that the other woman didn’t like her.

Maybe even loathed her.

Luna Sutton certainly had no intentions of sharing her food with Quinn Morgan, as this woman had often mistreated the original host and even dragged her off a cliff.

Even though the other had amnesia, it didn’t mean she could pretend nothing happened.

However, after eating two grilled fish, Luna Sutton was kind of full.

Seeing Quinn Morgan’s hopeful gaze, she eventually softened and handed over the remaining fish, "Here, take it."

Quinn Morgan looked at the fish handed to her face, then glanced at her, hesitant to accept it.

She rolled her eyes, a bit annoyed, and said, "Take it or leave it."

Saying so, she attempted to withdraw her hand.

Quinn Morgan, startled, quickly took the fish from her hand, murmuring, "Thank you."

Noticing Luna Sutton’s unchanged expression without any displeasure, she finally let out a sigh of relief and began to eat in large bites.

She was evidently starving.

Luna Sutton, with a complex expression, averted her gaze and stopped watching her.

Then she clapped her hands and got up to gather the dried salt.

The salt had almost dried out, with coarse grains forming on the surface. A simple filter could yield relatively clean salt.

Busy in the salt field, she packed the separated salt into clean vine baskets, preparing to take it back to the tribe once they found a way out.

Quinn Morgan quickly finished the grilled fish in her hands; though it wasn’t entirely filling, she felt less hungry.

She couldn’t understand what Luna Sutton was doing but could guess some of it.

She didn’t stay put; she actively came over to help despite her forehead still bleeding and hurting severely, which she didn’t mind.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care, nor because she didn’t want to escape.

But she knew she couldn’t escape; even if she could, without any memory, where could she possibly go?

She might as well stay here obediently, hoping she might recover her past memories.

Luna Sutton saw her working with a bleeding forehead, deeply frowned upon.

She didn’t want to get involved, but she couldn’t continue watching.

With a helpless sigh, she thought: Just this once, consider it paying back the debts of past maternal grace on behalf of the original host, and owe nothing afterwards.

As she thought this, a tender green vine sprouted from the palm of her right hand, growing longer and longer.

Then it climbed to Quinn Morgan’s forehead, the tip’s green leaves glowing softly, gently brushing over the wound on her forehead.

Quinn Morgan was startled, instinctively retreating a few steps, eyes filled with terror as she stared at the writhing green vine, as if it were something terrifying.

Seeing her expression, Luna Sutton grew annoyed, snapping, "Stop moving if you don’t want to die."

Quinn Morgan was instantly frightened motionless, just staring blankly without moving.

The green leaves at the vine’s tip reached her forehead again, gently sweeping over the bowl-sized wound, emitting a soft green glow.

Quinn Morgan felt a cool sensation from her forehead, widening her eyes in astonishment, realizing that the pain seemed to be receding.

Instantly realizing that the other was healing her wound.

She couldn’t help but touch her forehead, finding neither blood nor even a slight scab.

Her eyes filled with surprise, she looked at Luna Sutton with gratitude, "This, my wound..."

She had lost her memory, her mind a blank, completely unaware of what’s going on, only finding it all very miraculous.

Luna Sutton glanced at her, calmly saying, "It’s one of my abilities, it can heal wounds."

She didn’t elaborate further, feeling it wasn’t necessary, and even if she did, the amnesiac Quinn Morgan might not comprehend it.

Quinn Morgan nodded, half-understanding, though she had many more questions, she didn’t voice them seeing Luna’s indifferent expression.

She realized this woman didn’t seem to like her much, despite healing her wounds, her demeanor remained cold.

Luna Sutton didn’t care what she thought, having healed her wound, she withdrew her power.

The green vine at her palm quickly disappeared as if it had never been there.

Quinn Morgan continued to stare at her palm, curiosity filling her eyes.

The vine abruptly appeared from her palm — it was truly astounding.

She didn’t pay attention to Quinn Morgan, continuing with her tasks alone.

Quinn Morgan silently moved forward to help.

Luna Sutton didn’t stop her, having an extra helper meant lightening her load.

Otherwise, she would have to finish all the tedious tasks alone.

The next period of time, they were both busy with sun-drying and collecting salt.

Meanwhile, not far off in the woods, Corbin Crowley, hunting, unexpectedly encountered Finn Arcanus and the others who were searching around.

Both parties were momentarily stunned.

Finn Arcanus was the first to react, quickly stepping forward, examining Corbin Crowley up and down. Seeing him unharmed, he sighed in relief, "Are you okay? I was so worried."

"I’m fine."

Corbin Crowley shook his head and, pondering something, asked, "How did you get down here?"

In his heart, he thought, since Finn and the others could descend here, there must be a way out of this gorge.

Hearing his words, Finn Arcanus was utterly speechless.

They spent an entire day and night searching the cliff before finding the path to the bottom, and after following the Umbraflow for ages, they finally found this place.

Yet this jerk acted as if nothing happened, still asking how they got there.

With a frustrated glare and an itch to punch Corbin’s chest, he resisted considering he couldn’t beat him.

He glanced at Corbin, sulkily saying, "How did we get down? Obviously looking for you all. When you fell off the cliff, we were scared to death."

Saying this, his gaze shifted behind Corbin and around the area, aside from a large deceased boar on the ground, seeing no one else.

He frowned, inquiring, "Where are Luna Sutton and Quinn Morgan? Are they alright?"

Though he cared less about Quinn, if anything happened to Luna Sutton, the leader’s daughter, the leader would surely skin them alive.

Even the strongest among them, Corbin, might not be able to escape unscathed.

"They’re fine, probably sun-drying salt by now."

Corbin glanced at Finn and his crew, hiding nothing, and replied calmly.

"Sun-drying salt?"

Finn was momentarily bewildered, "Sun-drying what salt?"

Where did the salt come from to be sun-dried? Does salt need sun-drying? What is Corbin talking about?

It felt like they were not understanding a word of it.

Not only him, but the other Beastmen present also focused their confused gazes on Corbin, clearly unable to grasp the meaning behind his words.