Chapter 277: Third Night: Figure in the Fog

Here, apart from the distant roar of the water, there was almost no other sound. That single word came out of nowhere, sudden and abrupt, catching me off guard and making me break out in a cold sweat.

My first reaction was to wonder if it was one of Third Uncle's men—could there be a survivor here? The sound I just heard was definitely a person speaking. I knew I wasn't hallucinating; I hadn't expected to run into another living soul, but another person put me somewhat at ease. I stopped moving and craned my neck to look behind Fatty, but all I saw back there was a jumble of piled-up dead branches, tangled and indistinct, and with the poor light, I couldn't make out anything clearly.

It had to be one of Third Uncle's men, I thought. There couldn't be anyone else in this forest. If I suddenly ran into someone, the most likely scenario was that it was Third Uncle's people. Maybe it was the same person who had called out to me earlier, then been swept here by the current before I fell into the quagmire. From what I'd just heard, it seemed he was talking to someone else, which meant there might be more than one person.

"Who's there?" I called out, squinting hard in that direction. If I ran into one of Third Uncle's men here, that would be a godsend—I could finally find out what had happened to Third Uncle and where he was.

But after waiting a moment, there was only silence behind Fatty, not a single reply. The animal's mouth hidden beneath those branches showed no movement either.

I immediately grew wary, a bad feeling creeping over me. I felt around for a long wooden stick nearby, picked it up and held it ready, then slowly moved closer. But I'd only taken a few steps when I heard another faint, ethereal voice from deep within the pile of branches: "Little Third Master?"

The voice was very strange, speaking extremely quickly, but it was definitely a person's voice—and it was calling my nickname. I instantly relaxed; it had to be one of Third Uncle's men, and someone who knew me.

I let out a sigh of relief. "It's me!" I hurried over, pushing apart the gaps in the branches as I went, asking, "Who's in there? Are you trapped? Don't worry, I'll get you out right now!"

"Little Third Master?" came the voice from deeper inside again.

"It's me! It's me!" I shouted, tearing open a hole in the branches and sticking my head through the gaps, trying to find the person deeper in.

I dug quite a ways in but didn't see anyone—just rotten branches everywhere. The person inside had stopped talking. Finding it strange, I cursed in Changsha dialect: "Fuck your mother, who the hell is in there? What are you playing at? Say something and tell me where you are."

I called out a few more times, but there was still no reply. That uneasy feeling crept back. The way that person had spoken didn't sound like he was injured or unable to move—he should have come over when I said that. Why was he ignoring me for so long? Couldn't he hear what I was saying? Or was he confused too?

Then it hit me: even though I hadn't been affected, the swamp had been full of black gas, and some of it must have gotten in here. This person might have been bitten by a snake as well. If the poisoning was severe, he'd definitely be out of his mind; even if he hadn't been bitten, the force of the current might have knocked his head and made it hard for him to hear me clearly.

So I stopped calling out, clenched my teeth, and started digging deeper, determined to reach him first. If he really was poisoned too, then we were in serious trouble—I couldn't take care of two people on my own, but I couldn't just abandon him either.

This pile of branches was six or seven meters tall—not huge, but digging a hole through it to find someone was still extremely difficult. Biting back the pain, I used my hands to push the branches aside. It took me two or three minutes just to clear enough space, and then I immediately dropped to my belly and stuck my head through, looking toward where the voice had come from.

I'd expected to see someone leaning against something, but what left me dumbfounded was that there was nothing inside the branches at all—absolutely no one. The back of the pile was just the beast's mouth.

"What the hell?" I cursed. Before the words had even left my mouth, another faint, ghost-like voice came from the side of the hole I'd just dug.

"Little Third Master?"

That voice seemed to whisper right into my ear. My scalp went numb and I nearly tumbled off the pile of branches. I whipped my head around and saw that, on one side of the hole I'd made, in the darkness tangled among the branches, there was someone lying just like I was. A pair of blood-red eyes peeked through the gaps, staring at me intently.