Volume One, Chapter 22: Poisoning the Wild Wolf

Lin Yifan dared not move, not even the slightest bit!

His eyes could see nothing; he was no different from a blind man. However, the wolf lurking in the darkness could pinpoint his location with such precision that it was clear the creature’s vision was perfectly functional. Under these circumstances, he feared that even the smallest movement might trigger a sneak attack.

Yet, the standoff felt deceptively fast. It seemed as though only a moment had passed, but five minutes had already slipped away. Lin Yifan remained frozen, but suddenly, he noticed a peculiar sound echoing at the edge of his hearing.

It sounded like the murmurs of an infant, the bitter, resentful complaints of a woman, and the gentle, insistent warnings of a beloved elder, all woven together. These chaotic voices intertwined, seeming both distant and near, impossible to distinguish. As they merged, they seemed to undergo a mutation, stirring a growing sense of agitation within him. He couldn't help but reach up to pat his ears, desperate to drive away the interference. Yet, no matter how he clapped or covered them, the voices persisted, refusing to dissipate.

If someone were standing before Lin Yifan now, they would see that his eyes were bloodshot, his very pupils beginning to shift into a deep, scarlet hue—the exact shade of the blood-red moon hanging in the sky. It was hard for him to believe the two were unrelated, but he was far too weak, still struggling to survive the coming natural disasters, let alone confront something so intangible and maddening.

After several failed attempts to silence the noise, he realized that as time passed, the voices grew increasingly chaotic, fueling his irritation to the point of near-insanity. He vaguely sensed that this strange sound might be the true essence of the night's danger.

No! He could not stay out in the wild any longer. He had to reach the shelter at once.

Biting his tongue to force himself into a state of cold, painful clarity, Lin Yifan ignored the wolf that had been stalking him. He tossed the box containing his fire starter into his ring’s storage space and crept toward the shelter. It was already quite close; even in his current state, he could reach it in five or six minutes.

However, he had taken only ten steps when he heard movement to his left. He reacted swiftly, his right hand—clutching a poison-tipped arrow—stabbing out into the darkness. He struck nothing but air; the wolf was clearly too cunning to be caught so easily. Lin Yifan had not expected to land a hit, intending the strike more as a deterrent. Sure enough, the wolf vanished again.

He maintained his vigilance, quickening his pace. Two minutes later, the shelter finally appeared through the mist, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Just then, a sharp, piercing sound cut through the air. It was so fast that the noise was faint, yet it carried a lethal, persistent force. Lin Yifan had no time to react; to take the hit would mean certain injury. He dropped into a sudden crouch and thrust his poison arrow upward with all his might.

*Thwack!*

The sound of the arrowhead piercing flesh echoed instantly, followed by a heavy thud as something hit the ground right in front of him. Blinded by the darkness, he couldn't see, so he braced himself, readying for the next attack.

Instead, a series of shrill, agonized howls erupted: "Awoo! Awoo! Awoo!"

Lin Yifan initially considered leaving, but he couldn't bear to abandon the meat. After all, it was a beast he had struggled to kill. Even if wolf meat tasted mediocre, it was still food. In this realm of survival, what could be more important? He couldn't let it go.

Wolves were dangerous, however, and he had to be certain it was dead before approaching. He waited in place until the thrashing grew faint, then crept forward cautiously. He didn't dare touch it with his hands, using his axe to nudge the body instead. It remained motionless.

Only then did he reach down to hoist the carcass. Before leaving, he felt around the ground; he remembered that killing beasts sometimes yielded treasure chests—he had found one after killing the king cobra. Treasures were vital, and he couldn't afford to miss one. As expected, he found a chest near the wolf’s body. He couldn't tell its color, but any chest was a prize.

Storing the wolf and the chest in his ring, Lin Yifan hurried back to the shelter, his mind frayed by the maddening whispers, which were now growing so loud he could barely contain his emotions. He feared he would lose his sanity if he delayed any longer.

The moment he stepped into the shelter, the whispers vanished—so abruptly that he wondered if he had imagined them. To verify, he stepped back out under the eaves. As soon as he left the shelter’s boundary, the murmurs returned, though they were fainter than before. As time passed, they began to intensify again.

Frowning, he picked up the water-collection bin from under the eaves and stepped back inside, lost in thought. Were these whispers only in his area, or were they plaguing the whole world? If global, where did they come from? They were so desperate, so chaotic, so maddening—capable of turning anyone who heard them into a raving lunatic. Was this the silent horror of the night?

Lin Yifan couldn't be sure, but he had to set the thought aside for now. The wood he had previously added to the fire had burned away, but embers remained beneath the ash. He added fresh timber, and the flames roared back to life.

The warmth and light made him feel alive again. Though he had only been outside for half an hour after dark, he felt utterly exhausted. After sitting for a moment to drink some water and eat a few pieces of toast, he finally began to recover his senses.