Apocalypse Forecast

Chapter 517: Chapter 447: The Essence of Traveling_1

Before leaving Darwin, the last thing Huai Shi did was to take out his phone and turn it off.

According to Raven, since you’re seeking thrills, you might as well follow through... Well, that wasn’t the exact wording, but the idea was similar.

After all, this is the Current Circumstances, a place where even the Astronomical Society can’t find a spot without signal.

Make a call? Not only could you get emergency rescue, but you could even have an orbital strike prepared for you.

If you kept your phone on the entire time, scrolling through social media feeds, singing songs, and posting online updates, wouldn’t the sense of adventure completely vanish?

Then, before long, he realized he was blind.

—He had gotten lost.

Australia has over sixteen percent of the world’s iron ore deposits.

That’s what the high school geography book said, and at least in the Current Circumstances, it seemed to be accurate.

It was only after the compass started spinning wildly like a rabid dog that Huai Shi remembered this fact... God knows how many magnetite mines were buried in this damn desert!

By the time he was ready to turn back, he realized he couldn’t even find the way back.

What was even more bizarre was... even the positions of the stars were constantly changing.

The Big Dipper in this godforsaken place was like the spin wheel at some shady lottery website, spinning aimlessly when idle, pointing in every direction but never indicating the correct one.

When in Australia, surf till you’re out of reach.

The entire vast desert seemed like an invisible labyrinth, appearing as a monotonously uniform wasteland and sand dunes, but in reality constantly shifting.

Like a seasoned inmate in an asylum, each time Huai Shi felt despondent, it emitted a mocking, piercing laugh.

If you don’t move, I’ll move; if you move, I’ll move erratically; if you move erratically, I’ll move blindly...

What seemed like a drab Wasteland World was, in fact, like a chaotic field that was spinning and stirring at all times, sucking anyone who entered deep into an endless heat and desolation.

Fortunately, even though this place was already so chaotic, the sun still followed its regular pattern of rising in the east and setting in the west, allowing Huai Shi to barely find his direction during the change from dawn to dusk.

And then there were the few local ’friends’.

”Excuse me, which way is south?”

Huai Shi squatted like a madman next to a cactus, grinning and bearing it as he repeatedly asked for directions, pressing his hand against its prickles, ”Don’t be so fierce, bro, you seem to have quite the temper... Don’t be mad, I’m just asking for directions. South, which way is south? Where does the sun rise? Bro, you look no more than four or five years old, how come you’ve got Parkinson’s already? Can I water you, at least? Over there, right?”

Enduring their prickly spines, Huai Shi asked three nearby cacti, buckthorn, and shrubs repeatedly, and finally confirmed his direction.

Then, taking advantage of the deep night, Huai Shi looked left and right to make sure no one was around, and started whistling as he began to water his three little buddies.

It was a mutually beneficial interaction, and they got along quite pleasantly.

In all the plant communities Huai Shi had ever seen, those in the desert were among the most exclusionary and stingy.

Being able to survive in such harsh conditions inherently meant scrimping and saving every bit of sunlight, moisture, and even nutrients.

Just like the black-hearted merchants of Darwin.

To Huai Shi, an outsider Mountain Ghost, they simply couldn’t be bothered to deal with him; some were even extremely hostile, outright refusing Huai Shi’s attempts at communication the moment they made contact.

They firmly refused to give even a drop of water or nutrients to the foreign plant-being.

Unless Huai Shi also produced water to trade.

However, after so many days, Huai Shi had at least gained a bit of experience and some gains—especially once he discovered that these local guys didn’t care about what kind of water you provided...

So for the next two days, he slept in cool shade during the day and traveled by night.

When Huai Shi checked the map, looking at the distant volcano intermittently spouting lava, he finally confirmed his approximate location.

He had gradually passed through the fringes of the desert and was about to officially enter its domain.

Looking up at the distant grey sky and hearing thunder, Huai Shi unclipped the gas mask from his backpack and put it on his face.

Then he fastened all the zippers and buttons on his clothes.

Before he could finish preparing, dark clouds had already drifted over, followed by a flurry of ash falling from the sky like a blizzard.

The dust, mingled with tiny ice crystals, rattled against the goggles of the mask.

In the sweeping hurricane, Huai Shi could only struggle forward, bending low under his heavy backpack.

Otherwise, he might be rolled up by the furious wind like a tumbling gourd; while climbing some sand dunes, he even had to pull out a rope in advance to secure himself.

Otherwise, he would easily be buried by the shifting dunes.

Every so often, polluted clouds from the distant industrial cities would drift into the desert, bringing dust and irritating smog, making the desert environment even more severe.

He finally understood why Lucian’s list repeatedly emphasized the need to carry a gas mask.

After a grey snowfall, a filter rated to last three days in industrial pollution was completely spent; Huai Shi’s stock of filters was simply not enough.

He had no choice but to think up his own alterations.

Now, on both sides of the mask, on the outer sides of the filter cartridges, were two cans of ”happy water” that Huai Shi had welded on using his Hand of Confinement. After layering the structure inside like a hookah, he filled it with the filter liquid commonly found in Alchemy.

With every breath he took, he could hear a gurgling sound from the cans, and that acrid scent was something even his makeshift filters couldn’t completely block.

But fortunately, it was just unpleasant to smell, and the harm wasn’t significant. Even the recovery power of a Mountain Ghost, weakened to its limit in the desert, could just barely handle it.

During the arduous climb, Huai Shi missed his footing and stumbled. The howling wind immediately knocked him to the ground, rolling him awkwardly. The moment the mask fell off his face, Huai Shi felt as though he had inhaled a heavy draught of concentrated acid.

Instantly, the sensation of breathing was lost.

He couldn’t feel his lungs anymore.

It took him a long time, fumbling to refasten the mask, to finally feel the searing pain from spasms in his viscera.

He suspected his eyeballs had been scorched red by that aged, concentrated miasma.

How could the pollution in Australia be so potent!

For the next while, he lay motionless on the ground. Ashes and dust buried him, only to be scattered again by the fierce winds. At last, accompanied by the distant volcanic rumbling, the gray dust-fall gradually dissipated.

In the midst of the murky yellow ground and the residual gray from the dust, Huai Shi finally raised his head, struggled up from the earth, and shakily shook off the corrosive chemical substances that had seeped into his sleeves and pant legs.

Finally, with a frazzled appearance, he sat atop a mound of sand, staring blankly up at the sliver of sunrise slowly creeping up the horizon.

Dawn was breaking.

He finally let out a sigh of relief, got up, and looked around for a spot in the shade, painstakingly setting up his tent.

Once inside, he was too exhausted to change and just collapsed on top of his sleeping bag.

He didn’t want to move at all.

Still too weak, huh... he murmured softly and closed his eyes.

After a while, snoring sounds emerged.

.

.

Before this, Huai Shi had never imagined that in this desert, the greatest danger wasn’t the day, but the night.

The day was merely unbearably hot, but when night fell, what awaited was endless torment. Similarly, what was most unsettling wasn’t the endless expanse of yellow sand before his eyes, but rather those dilapidated towns in the ruins that had long been abandoned...

Just getting close made him feel an innate oppression.

Whether they were hideouts constructed by fugitives, temporary towns erected during the gold rush frenzy sixty years ago, or settlements gradually abandoned with the disappearance of water sources... What mostly remained were crumbling walls and the faint outlines hidden in the sand.

Invisible enemies were here.

No, it would be more accurate to say that everything in sight was an enemy...

The combat prowess he once took pride in was utterly useless under these circumstances, and without the illusion of his omnipotence, the youth that remained, when faced with malice from the whole world, was no different from any ordinary person.

If it weren’t for the occasional chats with Raven and Beelzebub, he might have long sought a way to beat a retreat.

Traveling was an exceptionally arduous task, often a self-imposed hassle.

Now, he had come to understand this all too well.

And he had understood his own insignificance thoroughly.

Yet despite this... he found himself increasingly looking forward to the journey ahead.

It was like sneakily posting illicit images while the group admin was away and not getting kicked out, like a sprout breaking through the snow from beneath an iceberg, growing its own branches in this barren desert wasteland.

Courting death was too interesting.

Especially amidst such unfamiliar adversity.

He felt certain there was something wrong with him.

But wasn’t that the very essence of travel?

There always had to be some challenges.

After a long sleep, Huai Shi got up again, stretching lazily in the direction of the setting sun. Water in a can on the small gas stove was bubbling along with the compressed biscuits tossed inside.

It was almost time to eat them as a mushy porridge.

The texture was highly unpleasant, but at least it was filling.

While waiting, he took out paper, pen, and a map to plan his next route. He rechecked his supplies and equipment to make sure everything was still within his capacity to manage.

Huai Shi fashioned a spoon and began wolfing down his breakfast.

Rest for three minutes after eating.

Pack up, ready to hit the road.

A new day, a new round of setbacks, began just like that.

In the midst of the ensuing trying times, Huai Shi discovered at least one slight advantage here.

He didn’t have to think anymore.

At first, his mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts, including what to eat for dinner, what the future held, his life and career path, and how to find a girlfriend—all things a seventeen-year-old boy might mindlessly ponder when unable to sleep.

But as he ventured deeper, becoming increasingly tired and weary, those jumbled thoughts receded like the tide, rapidly ebbing away.

In the end, only the purest instincts remained.

Step with the left foot, then, step with the right.

He had to keep moving forward.

Beyond that, every other inconsequential matter ceased to exist on his long march.

The sky above constantly changed, and an endless wasteland desert stretched before him.

When even Raven ceased to talk, the only companions left for Huai Shi were the enduring silence, the distant wind, and the deep rhythm from within his chest.

INHALE... EXHALE... INHALE... EXHALE...

Continuing this pattern, he moved forward step by step.

His heart was empty.

He stopped worrying about the issues that had plagued him in recent days, didn’t think about the distant future anymore.

For an instant, a profound realization welled up within Huai Shi.

—He lived in the present.