My Abyss Survival Diary

Chapter 5 Looting the Battlefield

The first thing they searched was the young man's body.

The body lay face up in the mud, its empty eyes staring at the gray sky.

Simon's pupils contracted slightly when his gaze fell on him.

The deceased's mouth...

Her lips were slightly parted, and a few strands of white downy hair peeked out from between her lips and teeth.

Very fine, like spider silk, it slowly crawled out from deep inside his mouth, hanging down his lower lip, trembling slightly in the air. With each tremor, new downy hairs squeezed out from between his teeth, growing at a visible speed, still thriving after the man's death.

Fiber? No, it's probably some kind of mycelium...

Simon crouched down and stared at the mouth for a few seconds.

He gripped the dagger tightly and gently parted the man's lips with the tip of the blade; the man's mouth was already filled with white downy hair.

Thick downy hairs gushed from deep within the deceased's throat, gathering at the lips like a pale, deformed flower in bloom.

Simon's neck hairs stood on end slightly.

This is too bizarre! He has seen dead people and all kinds of deaths, but he has never seen a dead person with hair growing in their mouth after death.

He didn't delay any longer and quickly began to loot...

The man had a longsword with an exaggerated design, a scabbard made of animal hide, and a heavy hilt with copper ornaments.

Simon drew the knife from its sheath and swung it a couple of times casually. His center of gravity was forward, making the swings laborious and a complete hindrance in the dense thicket.

He casually tossed it back onto the ground.

My gaze fell on the man's feet. They were ankle boots, made of dark brown leather, which looked thick and sturdy, with little wear.

Simon looked down at his feet; his linen prison shoes were soaked through, cold and slippery, and he could feel the mud seeping into his toes.

Without saying a word, he tore off the man's boots and put them on his own feet.

He stepped on it, his feet sinking into the soft, wet mud, feeling very stable.

He then looked at the bearded man.

The man lay on his side in a pool of blood, his knee a bloody mess.

Simon touched the side of his neck; it was cold and there was no pulse. The cause of death was excessive blood loss and shock.

I crouched down and looked at the face covered by a reddish-brown beard.

A few minutes earlier, the older man had fired a shot that saved the younger man.

As he bent down to check the man's injuries, a treacherous shot shattered his kneecap.

As he lay screaming in the mud, he probably didn't even understand what was happening...

Those utterly immoral sinners didn't save him. Even a simple act of stuffing his bleeding wound with cloth could have increased his chances of survival, but not a single one of them went to help him, leaving the only kind-hearted person among them to die on the wet mud.

Simon reached out and took the military water bottle from the man's waist.

The dark green tin canteen is an Imperial military product, engraved with the insignia of the Fifth Legion—the Pale Knights. It has a built-in filter and is of reliable quality. Apart from being a little heavy, it has no flaws.

He rummaged through the uncle's pockets again and felt a small string of cold things.

A necklace.

It was cheap, but I kept it close to my body and polished it until it shone.

Tucked inside the pendant was a faded, blurry photograph: a man in a black robe posing with a boy.

Simon stared at the necklace for two seconds, then stuffed it into his pocket.

He then looked at the woman's corpse.

She was shockingly thin, looking like a skeleton covered with skin.

Beneath the tattered robe, his ribs were clearly visible, his cheekbones were high, and his eyes were sunken.

Simon recalled her terrifying appearance just now—her stiff movements, her dry voice, and the mouthful of dirty yellow teeth revealed when she suddenly bit down.

She's long dead; it's something behind her neck that's controlling her to act.

He took off the robe.

The fabric was rough, with a musty smell and a faint, sweet, rotten odor, but it was thick and could block the wind.

He shook himself and draped the cloak over himself.

He now has four nail guns—his own, the one he picked up from the scarred prisoner's body, the one he just took from the man, and the one from the bearded man.

In addition, there was a leather bag, a dagger, a kettle, a robe, and new boots.

He only felt a little more at ease after his equipment was upgraded.

He tucked two nail guns into his waistband, stuffed them into his backpack, tucked a dagger into a convenient spot, and slung a water bottle across his shoulder.

In the past, he would never have been able to carry so much stuff. Even if he managed to carry all the spoils on his back, the heavy weight would make it difficult for him to move.

But after receiving the Iron Emperor's blessing, he couldn't even feel the weight of the backpack; it felt as light as if he were carrying an empty bag.

Just as he was about to leave, he couldn't help but glance at the man's corpse again.

White downy hair kept emerging from his mouth, nasal cavity, and ears, and within minutes it had covered his head and neck...

Some of the downy hairs even grew from the soil, spreading and growing along the limbs of the corpse, tightly wrapping around the limbs, and then enveloping the body, covering it completely within minutes, like an insect entangled in spider silk.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the thick fog—human footsteps.

Simon froze, then quickly ducked down and disappeared into a clump of bushes nearby.

The footsteps grew closer, and several blurry figures emerged from the gray fog.

Five people.

The leader was a tall, thin man with long, dark red hair, prominent cheekbones, and narrow eyes.

Behind him were four sinners. Simon looked familiar; they had come down from the same carriage as him.

The long-haired man stopped, his gaze sweeping over the three corpses on the ground before settling on the bushes where Simon was hiding.

"Come out," he said. "You're safe now."

Simon crouched in place, his brow furrowed.

It was safe just now, but it's hard to say now...

The long-haired man chuckled. "Don't be nervous. We're all just trying to survive in this godforsaken place, why hide?"

Simon found it laughable.

When the gunfire started, they ran far away, unwilling to even help the kind-hearted bearded man. Now that the gunfire has stopped, they're coming out to pick up the scraps.

"Take down two by yourself, this brother is quite skilled..." After offering some compliments, he pointed to the criminals behind him, "We're all poor souls trying to survive. This place is too terrifying; one person definitely can't survive alone. How about we team up and live together?"

The long-haired man paused, his gaze falling on the corpse's bleeding nape.

"Did you get that piece of meat?"

He looked towards the bushes, his tone sincere and seemingly conciliatory, but Simon detected a strong sense of threat in his voice:

"We're all starving. Could you give us that piece of meat in exchange for some dry rations so we can have a good meal?"

Their target was indeed the flesh that served as evidence of their crimes.

Seeing that Simon hadn't responded yet, the long-haired man's face darkened, and he waved to his companion.

Three skull-crushing nail guns were aimed at the bush where Simon was.

The tense atmosphere was like a powder keg filled with gunpowder, ready to explode at the slightest spark.

At the crucial moment, Simon appeared.

He left the bushes, carrying the cheap leather bag in his hand.

The long-haired man looked him up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the two nail guns at his waist before moving away, his face full of smiles.

"That's right, don't be so selfish. From now on, we're all one family, and we'll share resources."

"How can anyone survive with these insects?" Simon thought to himself, but still nodded in agreement.

He carried a briefcase in his left hand and...

Using the bag as cover, he stealthily reached for his waist with his right hand, where the nail gun he had snatched from the man was tucked in, already loaded.

He gripped the cold gun handle, took a deep breath, and aimed the muzzle at the long-haired man through the fabric of his leather bag.

"Here, take it."

He handed over the briefcase, and the long-haired man reached out to take it...

The criminals behind him relaxed their guard, and some even started to walk forward, wanting to see what the legendary piece of meat looked like.

Just as the person in charge's fingers were about to touch the purse—

"Go to hell."

Simon abruptly pulled back his left hand! The briefcase was ripped open in an instant, revealing the dark muzzle of a gun in his right hand!

boom--

The gun barrel exploded almost against the long-haired man's abdomen! The scorching steel nail, carrying immense kinetic energy, pierced deep into his flesh!

"Ah—!" He let out a painful scream, clutching his stomach where a large hole had been drilled through by steel nails, blood gushing from between his fingers.

Simon didn't stop. He slung his bag over his shoulder, forcefully grabbed the person in charge by the hair, pulled him over, and made him stand in front of him!

"Shoot now!"

"Kill him!"

The people behind him reacted instantly! Gunshots rang out!

bang bang bang-

Bullets came from all directions! Simon cowered behind the "meat shield," the body in front of him trembling as if electrocuted! Warm blood and rotten flesh splattered everywhere!

These bloodthirsty outlaws didn't care that the human shields standing in front of their guns were their former "allies"; nobody cared.

They just kept firing, reloading, and continuing to shoot. They only wanted to shoot him through, kill Simon, and then steal that precious piece of flesh that was evidence of his guilt!

Simon gave a sudden shove, and the long-haired man's mangled corpse fell toward them!

Several people instinctively dodged!

It's now!

Simon turned around, the thick fog churning like a living thing, swallowing his figure. His new boots made each step firm, and his leather bag bounced behind him.

He ran wildly into the unknown depths of the jungle.