Chapter Six: The Marsh of Ravenous Spirits

The contents of the bundle burst forth in the wind, scattering as grayish-red powder. The beast, unable to discern the nature of the substance, remained unconcerned, for its body was not only formidable but also immune to toxins. Many poisonous plants and monsters in the forest posed no threat to it, so what harm could mere powder do?

Yet when that grayish-red dust clung to its body, the beast realized its mistake. Its eyes burned with searing pain, as though set aflame, barely able to open. Its tongue felt as if pierced by countless needles, a sensation strange and not simply pain, but agony in its own right.

Luo Chen had given that packet of hidden weaponry a grand name, though its composition was simple—chili, nothing more than a pouch of chili powder. Never underestimate something used merely as seasoning; during his years fleeing disaster, this powder had saved Luo Chen’s life more than once.

The beast’s constitution resisted toxins, but chili powder was no poison—it was simply highly irritating. Thus, the beast fell victim, its eyes swollen and streaming with tears, sneezing violently, its vision blurred and judgment impaired. Luo Chen seized the moment, darting around several large trees, twisting and turning, leaving the beast far behind.

The beast’s eyes watered from the irritation, and while it was moved to tears, it felt none inwardly. As a higher-level monster, it possessed considerable intelligence, and thought to itself how shameful it was to be outwitted by such a pitifully weak human. It was now filled with hatred for Luo Chen, enduring the burning pain and forcing its eyes open to pursue him, vowing to destroy him.

This, Luo Chen mused bitterly, was the price of provoking such a monster—it was a matter of life or death.

Ahead, a meadow appeared, and Luo Chen’s eyes lit up. The Forest of Fear was not without grasslands, but few were as peculiar as this one: no trees, no rocks or earth, perfectly smooth and clean, almost inviting one to roll about upon it. But Luo Chen knew this beautiful field was no friend—it was a trap, infamous in the Forest of Fear, the Hungry Ghost Swamp. It was said to be formed from microorganisms gathered from an alternate dimension. Whether human or beast, anyone who fell into its mire would suffer greatly.

Yet at the sight of the Hungry Ghost Swamp, hope stirred within Luo Chen. Roughly estimating, the swamp stretched over fifty meters wide. Even the fearsome beast could likely not leap across. If he could cross quickly to the other side, forcing the monster to detour, it would lose valuable time—and with its senses dulled by chili powder, it might never find him again.

Fifty meters was far beyond Luo Chen’s ability to jump, but he had a plan. Though risky, he had no choice but to try. Without hesitation, he charged toward the meadow.

Stepping onto the grass, he did not sink immediately. The Hungry Ghost Swamp was cunning; only deeper in would it consume its prey, trapping them with no escape. According to the monster encyclopedia, the swamp would begin to sink around ten meters from the edge—before that, it was safe.

The beast halted sharply at the sight of the meadow, wary of the swamp from its life in the forest.

Luo Chen ran nearly ten meters before leaping with all his strength. This desperate running jump propelled him almost thirteen meters, surpassing his best performance in the academy’s monthly tests. He landed just beyond the edge.

The Hungry Ghost Swamp sensed a human presence, and the verdant grass suddenly flipped to reveal murky water beneath. This mud was so potent that even a feather would sink into it.

At this point, Luo Chen was about twenty-seven meters from the opposite shore. Over the swamp, a branch from a tall tree stretched overhead. If he could grab it, he might escape unharmed, but even the branch was twenty meters away.

Luo Chen took a deep breath and hurled a coiled rope he had prepared. Though only six or seven meters long, it was a retractable rope. The iron plate at its end lengthened the rope several times over under the force of his throw, winding securely around the tree branch.

Filled with joy and relief, Luo Chen knew luck had played a part—his rope-throwing skills were decent at the academy, but hitting a branch at such distance required fortune.

As the rope reached its limit, it contracted, lifting Luo Chen’s falling body and swinging him toward the other side like a pendulum.

Humans, after all, were cleverer than monsters—they knew how to use tools.

The beast, seeing this, was unwilling to let Luo Chen escape. Its monstrous energy gathered once more, and it unleashed its signature move.

Ripples spread through the air—the beast’s innate skill: Stun Wave.

Luo Chen was far enough that the mental wave was weak by the time it reached him, barely perceptible. Yet, after leaping and throwing the rope, he was out of breath, and even a mild psychic attack could be dangerous.

A numbness swept over him—realizing trouble, Luo Chen bit his tongue to stimulate his nerves, but his grip loosened, and he plunged into the swamp below.

Not even a splash—the swamp swallowed him whole. The name Hungry Ghost was well earned.

The beast lingered a moment, satisfied at last. Though it hadn’t slain the human outright, it had prevented his escape.

Luo Chen, engulfed by the swamp, was in dire straits. The microorganisms within had no direct offensive power, but if he couldn’t escape, he would eventually drown.

Though skilled in swimming, the swamp seemed to offer no buoyancy, and no matter how he struggled, he sank like a stone.

Modern humans could hold their breath far longer than those of ancient civilizations, and psionic warriors even more so. As a Level Three psionic warrior and adept swimmer, Luo Chen could last over five minutes underwater. But the swamp’s pressure was greater than water’s, and after four minutes, he felt faint—a sign of oxygen deprivation.

His consciousness fading, Luo Chen cried inwardly, No, I cannot die like this—I have so much left undone. I haven’t had my fill of bread and roast meat, I haven’t slept atop a pile of gold coins, and... I’m still a virgin.

Oh, merciful gods, you can’t be so cruel!

Had I known, I would have seized the chance to hold Ellie’s hand during our internship. I saved her life—such a small request isn’t too much, is it?

If I die now, my life will have amounted to nothing, an insignificant bystander—am I doomed to be nothing more than that?

This was Luo Chen’s final thought before losing consciousness—the last lament of a background character.

Then, something strange happened. A beam of white light emerged from the bottom of the swamp, striking Luo Chen and vanishing within him. His body glowed faintly and, protected by the light, ceased sinking and began to rise. He floated out of the mire, landing atop the ancient tree at the swamp’s edge, nestled among its dense branches. Only then did the white light fade.

The swamp returned to its gray disguise, once again masquerading as clean grassland. Those microorganisms would never understand how their prey escaped so easily.

Even Luo Chen would be shocked—he had walked through the gates of death, only to return.

[Regarding the update schedule for this book: chapters will be released twice per day on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays—first at 10 a.m., then at 8 p.m. On Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, there will also be an extra chapter at 2 p.m. Sunday evenings are special; to boost rankings, the 2 p.m. chapter will instead be posted at midnight. So tonight, being Sunday, the third chapter will be updated at midnight. If you’re online then, don’t forget to cast your votes for me!]