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墨書 Inktalez
After about ten minutes, a shadow faintly appeared in the pale yellow gas.
Gradually, the shadow became clearer, eventually revealing the outline of a person. Zhu Jincheng emerged from the toxic mist, carrying two bulging sacks on his back. When he reached the others, it seemed he had exhausted all his strength; he stumbled and fell to his knees on the ground.
Wang Fugui turned to look at Zhu Jincheng, noticing that his eyes were bloodshot, as if they might bleed at any moment. His violent coughing sounded as though it could shatter his chest cavity, making it quite unsettling to hear. Wang Fugui observed that the cloth covering Zhu Jincheng's face was missing, leaving his mouth and nose fully exposed to the air.
"Xiao Zhu, why did you take off that cloth?"
Zhu Jincheng continued to cough uncontrollably. Once he finally caught his breath, he slightly lifted his head and replied to Wang Fugui, "I ran too fast just now... cough cough... that cloth fell off by itself."
At that moment, several other villagers gathered around, anxiously asking Zhu Jincheng, "Xiao Zhu, did you manage to get our food back?"
Zhu Jincheng shook his head while coughing. "Cough cough... the toxic smoke down there is too thick... cough cough... I really couldn't do it... I'm sorry."
It wasn't that Zhu Jincheng didn't want to help them; after retrieving his own food, he already felt like he couldn't breathe from coughing. If he didn't hurry back up the mountain, he truly felt he would die there.
Seeing that he hadn't brought back their food, disappointment flickered in the villagers' eyes as they shook their heads and dispersed helplessly.
"Everyone, let's hurry back to the mountaintop; we can't stay here any longer."
They were now very close to the foot of the mountain, and the concentration of toxic gas was already quite significant. Wang Fugui suggested they return together.
Upon hearing Wang Fugui's words, everyone turned around and began to make their way back up the mountain one after another.
Zhu Jincheng also stood up from the ground, preparing to take the two bags of food he had just retrieved and follow everyone up the mountain. However, after taking only a couple of steps, he suddenly stumbled and fell sideways as if his body was no longer under his control.
Seeing this, Wang Fugui hurried over to support him. "Xiao Zhu, are you okay?"
Zhu Jincheng weakly shook his head, wanting Wang Fugui to let go so he could walk on his own, but Wang Fugui insisted on helping him.
"I'll help you up to the mountaintop; otherwise, you'll be in trouble if you fall again."
With that, Wang Fugui supported Zhu Jincheng as they made their way back to the flat area at the top of the mountain.
"Thank you... cough cough... Director Wang," Zhu Jincheng said, expressing his gratitude before picking up the two sacks of grain, preparing to return to his tent.
However, as he reached the entrance of the tent, a wave of nausea hit him.
He doubled over and began to vomit violently on the ground. Having eaten very little over the past couple of days, what came out was mostly a clear, pale yellow liquid. The feeling of nausea remained strong, and Zhu Jincheng continued to dry heave for a while before finally managing to stand up unsteadily and crawl into his tent.
Wang Fugui stood not far away, observing Zhu Jincheng's condition. It was worse than he had imagined. He hadn’t expected that entering that area filled with toxic gas would cause such severe damage to his body in just a matter of minutes.
Now, Wang Fugui had a sinking feeling that it might not be possible to take these people back to the village to fetch more supplies.
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