Chapter 826 - 2: Car Accident

Chapter 826: Chapter 2: Car Accident

There wasn’t a hint of light along the highway at night; looking toward the distance, he couldn’t find a single streetlamp, and even passing cars were rare.

In the weed-choked woods, tiny insects flitted about, and a muggy heat, mingled with the calls of insects, birds, and other animals, enveloped Chen Zhou’s senses.

The weakness from the injection still hadn’t faded; that chill had devoured his strength, making him feel, for the first time in ages, the fragility he should have as an ordinary person.

Struggling to control himself, he took off the animal skin coat, revealing the filthy combat uniform underneath. Chen Zhou looked like a scruffy drunk, wobbling forward along the highway.

The sky was growing darker, and at last, vehicles sped down the highway.

The shapes of those cars resembled the style of the 1950s—body designs shifting from rigid old classics toward smooth lines, with most sporting independent round headlights up front.

They roared past, bright beams flashing as they raced by Chen Zhou, none of them noticing the "drunk" watching warily from the roadside woods.

"I have almost no means of protecting myself right now. I need to find someplace to rest, then ask where ’Ambrose’ actually is."

He watched the vehicles disappear into the distance, calculating his next move.

The silver lining was that before leaving the Prehistoric World, he’d brought most of his portable survival tools and weapons with him—multipurpose military sabers, Long Saber, fire starter, and the black-robed man’s light armor.

Though he was out in the wild, at least it was summer—no need to worry about freezing to death at night.

Without his former physical prowess to rely on, Chen Zhou felt utterly unsafe.

He cut down a young tree, shaved off the branches to use as a walking stick, then cautiously followed the highway in the direction the vehicles had gone.

He dared not walk right on the highway, terrified a member of the "slasher" family might spot him there; nor did he risk going deep into the jungle—

You never knew, maybe that family had a castle or villa tucked deep in the forest, and if he wandered onto their turf, he’d practically gift-wrap himself for them.

...

As he walked, gazing at the dim woods, the neglected highway, and roadside signs nobody bothered to replace, Chen Zhou suddenly realized how much it all looked like scenes out of an American horror movie.

Pity horror films never were his favorite genre, and "slasher" as a general term felt much too bland.

Without much effort, images sprang to his mind—Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, mask-wearing killers with screaming faces, Jigsaw, and the high-IQ criminals from Seven.

In those films were both super-smart crooks and brutish, antisocial maniacs.

Moving forward as he analyzed, using those guys as hypothetical enemies, Chen Zhou gradually pinpointed his advantage—

Whether it was Hannibal or the other slashers, they pretty much all shared one glaring flaw: severely lacking individual combat strength.

Even if they could outthink him, once it came to close-quarters combat, none of those slashers could possibly go toe-to-toe with him.

But this place was more like "gunfight attire"—they say no matter how good you are with martial arts, you still fear a cleaver; and even Boxing King Tyson can’t withstand a well-placed bullet. He wasn’t sure he’d even get a shot at close combat. If the enemy spotted him and prepared their guns, his edge vanished in a flash.

The manual for the defensive gene transformation potion never clarified how much his body’s resistance would improve post-modification—but he doubted it could handle large-caliber bullets. If he caught a round to the head, he probably wouldn’t even have the chance to inject the regeneration potion.

At that, Chen Zhou felt a chill creep over him. ℯ

Because his opponent wasn’t just a single "slasher," but an entire family.

In this nation where guns were freely owned, there was no way the other side didn’t have firepower. That made things dangerously tricky.

...

He walked for a while, couldn’t suppress the exhaustion seeping up from his bones, and at last decided to make camp and rest.

By then it was around 1 a.m.; the highway had been empty for ages, only the chorus of insects broke the silence, and even the birds were resting.

To guard against poisonous snakes and wild beasts, Chen Zhou hacked down some wild grass and made a bonfire right on the spot.

But bad luck never comes alone—when trouble hits you, even drinking water can make you choke.

The bonfire had barely gotten going; he hadn’t even warmed up the dried meat he carried when clouds covered the stars and moon, and soon after, fat raindrops began falling.

No matter how strong the fire, it couldn’t withstand the downpour—the flames on the grass were quickly snuffed out, leaving a pile of steaming black ash.

Chen Zhou clutched his coat, squatted beneath a tree, gazing at the rain-soaked highway. For a moment, he looked every bit the homeless wanderer.

"Goddammit, when it rains, it pours."

Now my stamina’s down, my immune system probably tanked with it.

If I catch a cold from the rain, shit’ll go from bad to worse. Maybe I’ll need to buy medicine—which would surely draw unwanted attention..."

"The Rift Tribunal sure pulled out all the stops to turn me into a slave."

Damn, the moment I arrive they hit me with hell. But whatever, I’ll just hole up in the wild until the side effects wear off. I refuse to believe they’d send slashers into the wild to come find me."

With a sigh, he huddled tighter under the tree, muttering inwardly.

But before he could "finish his tough talk," thunder rumbled across the sky shrouded in clouds, and soon lightning flickered everywhere.