I, a Mental Patient, Was Chosen to Participate in AnalogHorror
Chapter 390 - 356: Survival in the Wilderness

Chapter 390: Chapter 356: Survival in the Wilderness

Lush trees cast intricate shadows in the lingering glow of the sunset, accentuating Martin’s steady strides.

He had been walking for several hours and, by his rough estimate, he should be close to getting out of this wilderness.

Just then, a faint sobbing broke the silence of the wilderness.

Martin crouched down alertly, adopting an extremely professional posture, then slowly approached the source of the crying with soft steps.

In the bushes, a little girl in a white dress was squatting there, staring at Martin, her small body trembling, repeatedly imploring him to go back.

"Why do you want me to go back?"

The girl’s appearance was too abrupt, her skin almost transparently white in the twilight, making her look particularly eerie.

Martin stopped in his tracks, aware that no child would be in such a remote and dangerous wilderness without reason.

"Are you lost? Where are your family?" Martin tried to ask in the calmest voice.

However, the little girl did not answer his questions; she just raised her tearful eyes to look at Martin and cried even harder.

"Go back, you must go back, you shouldn’t go on... not right now..." Her voice seemed to carry an ominous premonition.

This only made Martin more resolute, knowing that any anomaly in the wilderness could be a well-laid trap.

Moreover, since he had left the funeral home, his intuition had been telling him that he was in a kind of danger like never before.

"No, I have to leave this place," Martin said, his voice firm and detached.

He walked past the little girl, quickening his pace, mentally reciting that he just needed to keep moving to escape this enchantment.

But just as he was about to leave the bushes, a sharp scream pierced the night sky, the girl’s voice no longer crying but filled with panic and anger.

"You ignored my warning! You’ll regret this!"

The scream echoed in his ears, and Martin felt a chill on his back, as if invisible hands were trying to pull him back to the squatting girl; he quickened his pace, almost running.

Just when he thought he could escape this eerie phenomenon, a strange and unpredictable aura suddenly condensed in the air ahead of him.

Compared to the childlike crying just before, it was heavier, more profound.

Martin stopped, staring ahead, where something seemed to be waiting for him, the ominous presence intensifying his unease and sense of threat.

He was a veteran, each mission as a special forces soldier a brush with death.

Yet, this tension was unlike any alert, tracking, or ambush he had experienced before.

This fear, stemming from nature and the unknown, was his intuition constantly warning him, telling him not to underestimate this unknown presence.

He glanced back, the funeral home seemed to flicker before his eyes.

"Am I meant to go back?"

Just as he was hesitating, a thunderbolt struck right above him, and the rain poured down without giving him a chance to react.

"Shit!"

The ground was already sloped, and the rain made the already difficult path muddier.

"No way!"

Wiping the dirty rainwater from his face, Martin made a quick decision.

"I can’t keep going like this, I need to find somewhere to take shelter."

It was pouring too much, and with the cold weather, he would definitely get hypothermia if it continued.

Luckily, he soon found a small cave situated on a small mound.

Or rather, it wasn’t exactly small.

Inside, there was about three or four square meters, enough even to accommodate Martin for a simple sleep.

And the entrance of the cave was slightly downward, so rainwater wouldn’t pour in.

"Scrape scrape scrape!"

Undoubtedly a professional at making sound, he had lit some dry grass in the cave with a flint stone in no time.

And there were plenty of long-burning branches nearby, not making it too difficult to get through this bout of rain.

"What a gift, crab! This weather is even more fickle than my grandma!"

After lighting the fire, Martin quickly took off his clothes to dry them and simultaneously did push-ups to ensure his body temperature didn’t drop.

After doing all this, the rain outside showed no sign of stopping, in fact, it was getting heavier.

If it were an ordinary person, they would probably have already regretted leaving the funeral parlor.

But Martin’s resolve was firm; the harsher the external conditions, the more he felt he had chosen the right path.

"All this is just a test from God, Martin, you know it, it’s nothing, hold on."

The main portrayal was that of a tough guy!

It must be said, sometimes watching Martin operate was truly a pleasure.

He skillfully took a stick and swiftly skewered steamed buns and chicken legs, roasting them over the fire.

For a moment, it really felt like wilderness survival.

Outside was a fierce storm, yet inside the cave, it was snugly warm and even carried a delicious scent of meat.

Not until the chicken legs began sizzling with oil did Martin prepare to enjoy the meal.

"We set out at about six in the morning; now it should be around ten. This rain... it should gradually lessen or even stop in the next two to three hours."

"Given all this, maybe I should rest for a while, take a nap?"

Although sleeping now felt a bit arbitrary, what else could he do without sleep?

With the raging storm outside, it was certainly not feasible to go out; better to sleep a bit and recover some energy.

"So comfy~"

Lying on the soft, fluffy dry grass, feeling the gentle warmth of the flames, Martin half-squinted his eyes and couldn’t help but reminisce about his tumultuous years of outdoor training.

Just then, he felt a cool breeze sweep through the cave entrance, and along with the breeze came a faint sound like that of rubbing paper, forming a stark contrast with the fierce storm outside.

Martin’s consciousness suddenly felt a sting of pain until that sound became more pronounced; only then did he groggily look toward the cave entrance.

"Go back..." a faint voice, nearly drowned out by the storm, quietly reached his ears.

Martin instantly became alert, the fatigue in his eyes swept away as he fixed his stare at the cave entrance, but saw no shadow of anyone.

"Who?" he growled, his wide eyes flashing with a warrior’s vigilance and resolution.

The flames, as if sensing his inner tension, suddenly leaped up, illuminating the entire cave.

But aside from him, there was nothing else inside the cave.

Even though the thunder outside roared like the angry bellowing of gods, the calm inside the cave was like high walls and deep moats, isolating Martin’s inner voice, leaving only his lonely breathing and tense heartbeat.

Suddenly, a wet note dropped from the ceiling, landing directly onto the knees of Martin, who was sitting cross-legged.

This was unexpected for Martin, and his first reaction was to swiftly move back, his hand instinctively reaching for the axe at his waist for defense.

However, when his hand touched the note, Martin realized it was just an ordinary piece of paper, even carrying ink that was not yet dry, with handwriting blurred by the rain.

He focused his eyes and could only make out a few words: "Help me... return..."

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.