After a grueling trek of nearly three hours, the map showed that the straight-line distance between her and the safe house had only shortened by a quarter.
The jungle was not like the city, with its straight, level roads. It might look close on the map, but in reality, she had to detour around impassable thickets of thorns, ponds, cliffs, and piles of rubble.
A mere hundred meters felt like an uncrossable chasm.
The forest formed a pyramid structure. At the top were towering trees that blotted out the sky, some over thirty meters tall, basking in abundant sunlight. In the middle were shrubs of varying heights, and at the bottom were low herbaceous plants along with various fungi.
“Swish swish—” Tall weeds reaching her waist were pushed aside, revealing a dusty figure.
Mu Shan propped herself up with a long tree branch in her left hand and gripped a large machete in her right. Her clothes and pants were filthy.
She wore an electric scooter helmet and wrapped a towel around her neck to ward off mosquito bites. A coil of tough vines she had collected hung over her shoulder.
Due to the prolonged heat, her cheeks were flushed red, her breathing rapid, and sweat poured down her face.
Mu Shan had been carefully watching her surroundings the whole way. Her mud-caked boots sank slightly into the pile of fallen leaves.
As she passed a rotten tree root covered in mushrooms, her sharp eyes suddenly spotted something.
She used the branch to push aside the obstructing grass and plants, and in a low-lying spot, Mu Shan found a trickle of water. The flow was so small that it was easy to miss if one wasn’t paying attention.
A gecko fled at her movement, vanishing in an instant.
Mu Shan squatted down and leaned close to the tiny stream. The gentle flow meandered through the depression, carrying fallen leaves on its surface toward the distance.
This seemed to be live water. Water bodies in the tropical rainforest were complex, but following the direction of this known flow might lead her to where streams converged, and to larger bodies of water.
The safe house on the map was located beside a wide river—that was its only landmark.
No sooner said than done! Mu Shan parted the undergrowth, hacked through obstructing branches, and decisively followed the direction of the stream.
She kept an eye on the time while hurrying along, consciously picking up her pace.
It was already 2 p.m. She had stopped at noon to eat something simple to fill her stomach. Daylight hours could not be wasted; she couldn’t travel at night.
The trickle wound its way along, hidden beneath the shrubs, making it hard to trace.
But as she had guessed, rainfall was heavy in the rainforest. The farther she went toward lower ground, the more abundant the stream became, already forming a clear channel.
Mu Shan stepped across the pebbles beside the stream. She was sure she was taking a shortcut, but in truth, this “path” was hardly suitable for humans.
About an hour later, the flat ground vanished, and a small waterfall loomed before her.
Below the waterfall was a deep pool of limpid green water. The shore was a stretch of sandy gravel, flat and bare of vegetation.
The stream she had followed rushed down the waterfall, churning up white foam on the surface and even forming a rainbow in the mist.
By now, the water had expanded into a small river, soon to join the main flow.
Mu Shan squatted by the waterfall and thought carefully. If she gave up following the stream now and took a detour, she wouldn’t know where to go and might get lost again.
But jumping into the river…
She picked up a stone and tossed it into the pool. With a “plop,” it sank quickly out of sight, indicating the water was quite deep—unlikely to kill her on impact.
The drop to the water surface was about three or four meters. Mu Shan hesitated for a long time, observed for a while longer, and confirmed there were no dangerous “drifting logs” like crocodiles. Then she turned her back, gripped the vines beside the waterfall, and carefully climbed down step by step on the rocks.
The mist from the falling water cooled her face.
After descending about a meter, her arms began to tremble.
She had overestimated her arm strength. From constantly swinging the machete to clear the path, blisters covered her palms, and after a day of arduous travel, her stamina was nearly depleted.
In this condition, even gritting her teeth wouldn’t let her hold on much longer.
The mist stung her eyes, making it hard to keep them open. After descending another few dozen centimeters, her arms gave out, her foot slipped, and with a “splash,” she plunged straight into the water.
The force of the fall slammed her into the surface. The next instant, icy water flooded her ears and nostrils, and the air in her mouth turned into bubbles of all sizes, bubbling out of her lungs.
Mu Shan thrashed twice at the bottom before finally getting her head above water.
As soon as she broke the surface, she gasped for air like a dying fish, got her bearings, and paddled with all her might toward the shore.
“Splash—splash—”
Exhausted, Mu Shan flailed her limbs. If she had known survival in the wild was in her future, she would have learned to swim properly in school.
Fortunately, she had stored her backpack, machete, and other items in the virtual backpack beforehand. Otherwise, soaked and heavier, they would have been like lead weights, and she might not have floated.
After an unknown amount of time, she finally dragged herself onto the shore, looking like a drowned rat. She collapsed onto the ground.
“Hah—”
Mu Shan slumped with her head down; she truly had no strength left, not even to move a finger.
Water droplets from her hair tips pattered to the ground. She wrung out her clothes and pants, then looked up at the sky.
It was just past four, but the light was already fading. The sun would set in less than an hour.
Yet she was still quite a distance from the safe house.
Twenty-two days into the game, she finally got to enjoy her first night of wilderness camping.
Both outfits she had brought were soaked. With no choice, she changed into the relatively less wet one. Fortunately, the temperature was high, so she wouldn’t suffer hypothermia.
Since she had to spend the night outdoors, shelter was crucial. Mu Shan selected a flat, open spot near the forest but by the riverbank, free of fallen trees.
She felt the soil—it was dry, so at least she wouldn’t drown in a midnight tide.
She took out her entrenching tool and carefully cleared the ground, shoveling away branches, leaves, weeds, and anything else to prevent venomous insects or creatures from lurking beneath the tent.
Banana trees were plentiful in the forest. Mu Shan found one with lush foliage and used her machete to cut a dozen large, clean leaves to lay on the ground. This way, pitching the tent over them would be much cleaner and more comfortable.
This two-person tent was something she had scavenged from the villa district; it was her first time using it.
She drove the tent pegs into the ground with rocks and tied the guy lines to two nearby trees. She shed her filthy outer layer, unzipped the inner tent, and crawled inside.
As soon as she lay down, her muscles relaxed, and she nearly couldn’t get up again.
But Mu Shan knew she couldn’t rest yet. With a groan, she struggled back to her feet.
The stream water was clear. She at least rinsed her dirty clothes. Human sweat contained salt; if left untreated, the fabric would stiffen and wear out quickly.
She threaded the wet clothes onto a rope and hung them from a tree to dry, swaying in the breeze.
Mu Shan then squatted by the sandy gravel shore to gather stones. She planned to build a campfire to dry her clothes and boil some water. She picked up several stones and unexpectedly caught two or three small shrimp in the shallows.
These pale gray, translucent freshwater shrimp were small.
This was good news—it meant the river water in this forest was at least non-toxic.
There were plenty of small black fish swimming in the deeper areas, but she lacked suitable tools, and in her current state, she had no interest in fishing.
Mu Shan carried the shrimp back to the tent area, cleared a spot nearby for the fire, and ringed it with stones. She filled the center with dry twigs gathered from the forest and shaved some flammable wood shavings into a pile in the middle with her small knife.
A couple of scrapes of the knife on the magnesium fire starter produced sparks that ignited the shavings.
Mu Shan added fuel at the right moment. Orange-red flames devoured the wood, casting bright light in the fading dusk.
She set her small soup pot on the stones, poured in a bottle of mineral water, and let it heat.
As the water boiled and bubbled, she took out a small jar, scooped in some sugar, and added it.
She had sweated profusely today; without replenishing energy, her body wouldn’t hold up. Fortunately, she wasn’t truly surviving empty-handed—her backpack held plenty of emergency supplies.
While waiting for the water, she skewered the shrimp on two sticks and roasted them by the fire. They cooked quickly.
Sprinkled with salt grains, the shrimp meat was fresh and sweet.
With food in her stomach, long-ignored hunger surged back. Mu Shan munched on flatbread by the campfire.
By then, the sugar water had boiled. She poured it into a cup to cool for later.
She refilled the pot with stream water and set it to boil again.
As darkness fell, the mosquitoes by the water buzzed en masse, swarming toward her. These weren’t city mosquitoes; each was huge, capable of leaving swollen, unbearably itchy bites.
Afraid of being devoured, Mu Shan scooted closer to the fire—the smoke from the burning wood repelled them.
Munching flatbread and sipping hot water, she checked the system mall. The camping tool packs, mosquito kits, snake repellents, and insect powders that no one wanted in the last instance were now selling at exorbitant prices, with gold coins doubled.
Pure price gouging and profiteering—Mu Shan cursed inwardly.
After eating, the stream water in the pot had boiled. Once cooled slightly, she dipped a towel in the warm water to wipe her cheeks, neck, and body.
The scrapes from branches during her fall down the slope burned painfully. The wounds had turned from bright red to dark red. Mu Shan gritted her teeth, cleaned them thoroughly, and shakily applied medicine.
By the time she finished, night had fully fallen.
The sunset reddened the horizon. Mu Shan took a stick from the extinguished fire into the tent and used the smoke to drive out the mosquitoes inside.
The wind was strong by the shore; the clothes she had hung out earlier were already dry. Mu Shan kicked off her filthy boots, changed into dry clothes, and snuggled into the tent.
She lit the camping lamp, its dim yellow light illuminating the small space.
The pitch-black forest at night resembled a man-eating beast, with nocturnal creatures stirring. After a moment’s thought, Mu Shan took out the card album and released a zombie worker.
【A zombie transformed from a player (summoned by the Collector)】
The gray-skinned male zombie was tall and burly, clad in camouflage combat gear, an iron helmet on his head, and a bloodstained kitchen knife in hand—its original equipment.
From behind, it looked like a typical doomsday player.
But its skin was veined with blood-red lines, its lips pitch-black, eyes rolled back, sores crawling with maggots, and it reeked of the dead.
Ugly, yes, but very useful. Mu Shan had the zombie worker stand guard around the tent all night without closing its eyes, diligently patrolling.
The zombie monsters that players loathed in the last instance now stood obediently by the tent, looking utterly reliable.
Mu Shan slipped into the sleeping bag. Hearing the “grunt grunt” close by her ear, she fell into deep sleep.
Under extreme physical strain, every second of rest was maximally utilized. She felt like she had only blinked, and morning arrived.
A few drab little birds perched on the zombie worker’s head and shoulders. As soon as she emerged, they scattered with a “whoosh.”
Small paw prints dotted the dirt by the campfire—likely from forest rodents.
Mu Shan splashed her face with cold water, shouldered her pack, and set off again.
This time, with the shambling zombie following behind, her pace slowed noticeably.
Zombies weren’t living people; their limbs were extremely uncoordinated. It frequently tripped over roots, slipped on stones, snagged on branches, or fell into pits if not careful.
Mu Shan had it carry the berries and pods she had gathered along the way, making use of every bit of labor.
Fortunately, the river widened, and the gravelly bank had few large shrubs, making it much easier to walk.
Finally, at noon the next day, Mu Shan arrived at her safe house location, dragging her whole household along.
The rushing river was nearby, about fifty meters wide by eye. Her safe house sat on the riverbank at the forest’s edge.
Surrounding it was lush forest; weeds and shrubs nearly obscured the building.
In just two days, the sunroom’s roof was covered in fallen branches and leaves, with vines draping down to the walls.
Mu Shan did not rush inside, because she discovered that the system prompt on the roof had an extra number: 5.
【⑤】
【Mu Shan’s safe house】
The yellow number was displayed in full 3D, visible no matter which direction one stood in.
Mu Shan picked up a stone and threw it over. The stone passed through the number, and “⑤” disappeared before quickly reforming.
At least, this proved that the thing was marked by the system and existed under certain laws of causality.
‘What did it mean? No. 5 camp? No. 5 player?’