Chapter 165: Testing Poisons  

In a couple of days, there was an awful rotten smell flowing in the air, attracting several mutated flies. Each fly was as big as a frog, and they all had green skin and produced a deafening, noisy sound when they flew. If that were all they could do, then it would not have been that big of a deal. Sound pollution was not that dangerous after all.

However, that kind of mutant was attracted to wounds and could absorb a bigger volume of blood than its body size. The human skin could not resist such an attack. If one got stung, one might lose a few hundred milliliters of blood. Still, the flies did not pose such a significant threat to them, considering they had spent almost a month in the forest.

A group of survivors was carefully walking down the moss-covered street. Their clothes were shabby, and their hair and face were filthy. There were many scars with black bloodstains on their bodies, and some of their wounds were still bleeding, pus dripping out of them. The most disgusting thing about them were the worms crawling on their injuries.

They were leaning on each other, trying their best to move forward. A very buff, tan guy, was walking ahead of the team. He looked highly alert as he kept checking their surroundings.

Suddenly, he felt something strange on his arm and hit it without even checking to see what it was. A big fly had been smashed, lying in a small puddle of blood on his palm. Dexterity was crucial for anyone living in the forest. If one didn’t react fast, they would die.

The man was acting slightly slower as he realized the blood on his palm was his. He frowned and lifted the fly up into the air. He checked it, but he did not notice anything special about it. It did not seem to be venomous either. He looked further up front and realized there were a lot more of them. He had hesitated for a while before he stuffed the fly into his mouth.

The team had run out of food a day ago. All the dried meat they had kept had been finished, and starvation had taken the lives of three people’s lives. If the insects were edible, then they would have finally found some food. If there was an excess of them, they could sustain them for the next few days. Finding a food source was crucial during the end of the world. Although there were many mutated beasts around, they could not directly attack the stronger ones, and even the weaker ones had become trickier to hunt these days. They would need to put in a lot of effort to catch a few. However, the team was big, and many of them were injured. One beast would not be enough to feed so many mouths.

Besides, not all living things were edible. Some species could be harmful to the human body. One needed experience and good judgment. However, sometimes survival knowledge was not entirely reliable. Some creatures looked harmless but were venomous. The only way to tell was to examine them one by one. If they were lucky, they might only get a stomachache for a few days. If the creatures were venomous though, they could die. So far, five members of the team had died of food poisoning.

Besides, it was not safe to test the food by eating the creatures. They had found that there were too many different species after the evolution. It felt like a powerful catalyst had been added to the world, and most living things had entered an uncontrollable situation and evolved into thousands of different kinds of creatures.

“It’s my turn,” a pale man walking in the back said.

Sweat was dripping down his forehead and his nose. One of his legs was damp with his blood, and he had a big wound on one of his thighs. It seemed like his main blood vessels were broken, and he left a large blood print on the ground as he walked. He could hardly move without anyone helping him.

As he saw the young man hesitate, he smiled helplessly and said, "We can’t break the rules. I know I won’t be able to make it. It won’t benefit anyone if you insist on dragging me along. Let me test the poison. I can’t even move anymore. Let me at least do something for you before I die."

"Don’t give up, Qian Cheng! We will not give up on any of our friends from Three Camps! Not till death does us part," a guy quickly told Qian Cheng as he sensed his intention to die.

“Commander, I know my condition. I don’t want to make things worse. Let me stay here. I really can’t take it anymore.” The man smiled and struggled away from his friend before slumping down on the ground.

"Let me have it. Don’t let me die hungry," the man said with a smile. He had seen many of his friends leave them and was no longer afraid of death.

“Let him have it,” the commander ordered with a wave.

The tan man twitched his lips but remained silent. He had gotten used to this a long time ago. It had already happened to the team several times. Those who could not take it had died or committed suicide. Qian Cheng took the mutated fly from the tan man and stuffed it into his mouth. He tried very hard to chew it and swallowed it.

He seemed to get worse after eating the fly. Sweat was dripping like water down his face. He waved his hand as he saw someone trying to check on him. He did not want them to go near him.

Ten minutes later, he was not feeling anything. “It’s edible. It’s not venomous,” he told his team members before he fell to the ground again.

He had consumed his last bit of energy. Suddenly, there was a big puddle of blood under his body. A warrior tried to check his pulse but kept shaking his head. The whole team immediately went silent.

“Keep walking! We are just 100 kilometers away from Shanghai. We would probably get there in a day if we were walking at a reasonable pace. We might be moving slower now, but based on our current speed, we can still reach it in three or four days’ time. We’re already here. We must get there no matter what!” the commander said seriously.

He knew that they would not be able to arrive there in such a short time. The route they were taking was not as advanced as it used to be before the mutation outbreak. There were dangers in the forest, and they could die if they were not careful enough. Plus, their physical condition was not as good as it used to be anymore. Most of them had several injuries and wounds on their bodies. Some of them could even die in their sleep.

In fact, the commander would be grateful if he managed to bring the team to Shanghai in half a month. However, reality was cruel. He knew it was almost impossible as they had lost contact with the main team since the great migration. There had been about 200 members on the first day, and now there were only about ten team members left. Some of the warriors had not even frowned when they’d lost their arms in the battlefield, but they had secretly committed suicide, no longer able to stand the long journey and the severe injuries. The team gave no response to the commander. They were all feeling hopeless.

Suddenly, someone sensed something strange and shouted, “Commander! There’s something wrong here. It’s too quiet.”

Everyone quickly came to a stop. It dawned upon the team that there have not been any encounters with giant mutated beasts along the journey. It was indeed strange. How peculiar.