My Abyss Survival Diary

Chapter 33 The Moment of Revenge

Machine gun bullets swept across, and tree bark and debris flew like rain.

Simon instinctively rolled to the side and hid behind another large tree, his finger already on the trigger of the crossbow. One shot would blow that makeshift machine gun emplacement into the air.

But after a moment's hesitation, he failed to fire an explosive crossbow bolt.

He only had three explosive bolts left in his backpack, and he didn't know what he would face ahead. He couldn't afford to waste his precious explosive bolts here.

His gaze swept over the corpse at his feet, which he had chopped in two, and a wooden-handled grenade was tucked into his waistband.

He quickly bent down, ripped off the grenade, pulled the pin, and in the brief moment between the clinking of the ammunition belts and the machine gun reloading, he suddenly darted out from behind the tree and hurled the grenade!

The wooden-handled grenade traced an arc in the air and landed precisely in front of the machine gun position.

"Grenade!"

Theodore's men screamed in terror, and both fell to the sides at the same time.

It's now!

Simon pushed off the ground with both legs and shot out like an arrow.

As soon as an enemy raised his head from the ground, before he could even raise his gun, Simon's knee slammed into his chin!

Click—

The man's head snapped back, and he fell backward to the ground, motionless.

Another enemy finally raised his rifle, but Simon's harpoon swept across, the sharp blade slicing through his neck, his head flying off while his eyes blinked in terror.

The machine gun threat is gone.

Simon took a breath, pulled out the harpoon, and looked at the wound on his shoulder.

The wound on my shoulder has scabbed over, but the wound on my back still needs treatment.

A moment later, Klein and Badr emerged from the white mist.

"Where's Theodore?" Klein asked anxiously.

Simon pointed ahead, where a thin figure was staggering and fleeing into the depths of the woods.

"Chase."

"Wait!" Klein suddenly grabbed Simon's arm.

Simon turned around and noticed something burning in Klein's eyes that he had never seen before, an almost obsessive obsession.

"Give me this chance." Klein's voice trembled, but his tone was unusually firm. "Please, Simon, let me end all of this myself."

Simon stared at him, remaining silent for two seconds.

"Don't let him get away," he finally said.

Klein nodded, drew the dagger from his waist, and rushed into the fog without looking back.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Theodore leaned against a dead tree and turned around. There was only one pursuer, the young man.

"Ha..." he let out a hoarse laugh, "I was really underestimated."

Klein stopped five steps away from him, dagger held horizontally in front of him, his chest heaving violently.

"Poor little Klein." Theodore tilted his head, a sickly smile on his pale face. "Don't do this. Killing me won't help. Your camp and your friends won't come back."

Klein did not answer, but simply gripped the dagger tighter.

Suddenly, he noticed that Theodore in front of him had two complete arms.

What happened? Wasn't Simon supposed to cut off his arm?

Theodore shrugged, turned slightly to the side, and showed it to Klein...

Display the flesh, the incriminating evidence, on the back of his neck.

The scarlet flesh throbbed and pulsated on the back of his neck.

"You're a madman." Klein's voice trembled slightly.

He heard the sound of "growth".

A more primal, more eerie sound, like damp wood crackling in a fire, or like countless tiny insects gnawing at it.

At Theodore's severed arm, grayish-white mycelium wriggled like maggots, stitching the severed arm to his body. The muscle fibers formed by the mycelium seemed to be woven into bundles by an invisible hand.

The entire process lasted only a dozen seconds.

Theodore raised his reattached arm, moved his fingers, and made a "creaking" sound, like a rusty hinge turning.

"Look at me now..." Theodore looked at his arm, which was clearly the wrong color, and at the stitches made of fungal hyphae, and burst into laughter. "I look like a fucking teddy bear with ripped stitches, hahaha!"

He laughed so hard he bent over, then coughed up blood.

Klein watched this scene and felt nauseous.

"You will soon be consumed by the flesh of the evidence of sin." His voice was hoarse.

"Do you think I care?" Theodore stopped laughing, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. "I'm someone who survived being violated by this world, kid. You think the flesh of sin is a curse? No, it's a gift, compensation this world owes me."

He suddenly burst out with a curse, because Klein suddenly rushed over!

The dagger pierced Theodore's throat, moving so fast that its trajectory was almost invisible.

But Theodore dodged to the side, his newly grown arm suddenly grabbing Klein's wrist, his gray-white fingers clamping down like iron clamps.

"Too slow."

His knee slammed into Klein's abdomen.

Klein felt as if his internal organs were being squeezed by someone's hands, acid from his stomach surged up his throat, and his vision went black.

He staggered backward, but Theodore gave him no chance to catch his breath. The gray hand loosened its grip on his wrist and instead grabbed his neck, lifting him up!

"You still think you're the hunter?"

Theodore slammed him against the tree trunk, and Klein's back struck the rough bark, the pain nearly crushing his teeth.

"No, from the moment you caught up with me, you were the prey!"

Theodore punched Klein in the face.

The force of that punch was abnormally great. Klein felt as if his cheekbone was about to shatter, and blood gushed from his nose.

But Theodore didn't stop. He was like a machine out of control, punching down one after another, each punch accompanied by the sound of bones shattering.

Klein's consciousness struggled between ambiguity and lucidity.

He heard Theodore laughing, a manic, piercing laugh that sounded like an echo from hell.

His movements stopped abruptly. He tilted his head, one eye still bright, while the other was cloudy and empty like a pool of stagnant water.

It is clear that his consciousness has been corrupted.

Klein seized this valuable opportunity.

He drew the dagger from his waist with his right hand, gripped the hilt tightly, and with his last bit of strength, thrust it upwards!

The dagger plunged into Theodore's side.

Theodore belatedly looked down at the knife stuck in his abdomen, blinking as if he hadn't quite realized what was happening.

His body had been transformed by the flesh of the evidence of sin, and he felt no pain at all.

Klein kicked him in the chest, sending him flying.

The two fell to the ground at the same time, then got up at the same time, facing each other like two wounded wild beasts.

A large patch of blood seeped from Theodore's abdomen, but the blood was not bright red; it was a dark, almost black liquid that smelled of decay.

Without a dagger, engaging in close combat with a half-fungal corpse that feels no pain...

Klein felt like he was going crazy.

But sometimes you have to go crazy!

Klein gritted his teeth and pounced on Theodore, knocking him to the ground. The two rolled in the mud, using fists, knees, teeth, and every weapon at their disposal.

They rolled, bit, and struggled in the mud like two mad dogs, the mud and blood mixed together, making it impossible to tell whose it was.

Klein finally mounted Theodore.

He gripped Theodore's neck with both hands, his fingers tearing at the flesh that bore the evidence of Theodore's guilt.

The sticky liquid dripped down between his fingers. Once he tore off this piece of flesh, the evidence of his guilt, he would achieve final victory!

Theodore's face gradually stiffened, and his grayish-white hand frantically scratched at Klein's arm, leaving bloody marks on his skin with his nails.

"Klein..." Before he was completely turned into a fungal corpse, Theodore still had a stiff smile on his lips. "I'll be waiting for you in hell."

"The day I die, I'll go to hell and continue hunting you down." His hands stained with blood, Klein expressionlessly tore a piece of flesh, the incriminating evidence, from the back of his neck. "This is for Anthony!"

The once arrogant king of sinners, his eyes lifeless and breathless, had white mycelium emerging from his mouth and ears, preparing a simple funeral for him.

Klein, having lost all his strength, collapsed to the ground...

He was in excruciating pain all over his body, and in a daze, he saw something white fall from the sky and land in front of him.

It looks like... a feather?