Chapter 694 - 22: Fever (Part 3)
"Listen, as long as you don’t give up, I will never give up on you first.
Everyone has their own role, you just aren’t as skilled in combat as I am.
People need to grow; I didn’t become who I am today in just one day, and you won’t stay like this forever.
Stop saying things like leaving you behind. If I really did that, I’d be worse than a beast."
Chen Zhou pointed to the three Serrated Tiger Cubs that ran into the Shelter with him—
The little ones were scared by the commotion of the roof being lifted, each of them flattening their ears, tucking their tails as they huddled together, pitifully hiding in the corner between the door and the wall.
"At least their elders know how to take risks to rescue their young ones."
"Take good care as you’re ill, it’s just a cold, and you’ll recover soon. Then we’ll set out.
Right now, there’s no air drop and no other challengers requiring us to plan an attack, so we have plenty of time without needing to rush."
After speaking, Chen Zhou brushed off the moss and dust from his head and bent down to leave the Shelter.
...
Just as Chen Zhou had expected, after the physical cooling took effect and enough electrolytes were replenished, Paul’s body temperature quickly returned to normal levels.
His physique was not bad to begin with; it was just that he got caught in a storm, wore soaked clothes to sleep outdoors, lacked adequate rest, and got involved in an intense fight which led to extreme mental and physical fatigue. Once his immunity weakened, it allowed the virus to invade.
After sleeping on and off for a day and eating some warm food, by evening, Paul could move freely, and he looked much better than he did during the high fever.
...
In the military pot simmered a half piece of fresh bird leg, which Chen Zhou had cut off from a bird that seemed like a giant runner bird.
This large bird ran very fast, and he couldn’t catch up with it for a while.
They say those that run on land are not as fast as those that fly, and those that fly are not as fast as those that swim.
Initially, Chen Zhou wanted to catch some fish to eat, but thinking of the two corpses he tossed into the river the night before was unpleasant, so he targeted this giant ’running chicken’ instead.
After several failed attempts by the riverside, he was about to return to the camp to fetch the Wooden Spear for hunting by throwing weapons when he suddenly remembered he still had two shurikens.
Throwing these Japanese Ninja darts was comfortable, and after practicing locally a few times, once he remembered the feeling of throwing darts, Chen Zhou threw a shuriken that directly hit the big bird’s chest from afar.
However, the bird didn’t die on the spot after being hit by the dart and managed to run a full two kilometers before the poison on the dart took effect, causing it to collapse.
Once Chen Zhou dragged it back to camp and dissected it, he found that unlike a chicken, this bird’s heart and lungs were positioned further back instead of near the chest.
His dart likely pierced the lower middle part of the bird’s chest, which was covered by a thick bone plate, absorbing some damage and causing the dart’s point of impact to shift, only puncturing organs like the glandular stomach or pancreas, incapable of quickly taking its life.
But no matter the process, the result was roughly the same, and the bird ended up in the pot after all, no matter how lucky it was.
Looking at the popped-up steam valve, Chen Zhou sought Paul’s opinion.
"How do you feel? Can we move tomorrow morning? If so, we’ll set out tomorrow."
He smiled, glancing at the Shelter built by the Ninja and the American soldier—
It was already dismantled into a scattered mess.
"Don’t worry about this place anymore; it’s been torn apart. Besides, living here, aren’t you afraid they’ll climb out of the river to find you?"
"Hahaha..."
Paul laughed heartily, observing Chen Zhou’s expression. Seeing him in a good mood, he reached into his pocket, carefully unscrewed the bottle of alcohol, poured it full, and downed it in one gulp.
"I’m a firm materialist, unafraid of such things..."
Their conversation was torn apart by the wind, vanishing into the vast night sky.
Only the firelight grew brighter, and the aroma of the bird leg in the pot slowly dispersed.