Chapter 1348 - 1031: Never Underestimate a Desperate Young Rat

Chapter 1348: Chapter 1031: Never Underestimate a Desperate Young Rat

Thanks to the leader of Premium Pumpkin Porridge.

Depth 14, Illusion Mud Pit.

Fifteen minutes until the Thunderclap White Plains explosion, thirty minutes until the Depth Storm arrives.

In the stench, the endless swamp stretches to the horizon, everything is shrouded in a bleak white mist, and in the deepest part of the fog, a gray gloom occasionally reveals slow-moving giant shadows.

Yet you hear no sound.

Only the thick sound of the mud stirring beneath the platform underfoot.

Above the bottomless mire, a dozen wooden planks are haphazardly joined into a crude platform, akin to a raft, slowly drifting through the muddy waters of the swamp’s undercurrent.

Direction unknown.

Beside the gray tent, a fire burns in an iron barrel, roasting slices of colorful mushrooms. As the grease is released, the mushroom slices open small mouths, producing a sharp noise akin to squashed rats on the grill.

The man with the horsehead mask casually grabs a handful of pepper and sprinkles it, then brushes on sauce again until these curse-laden poisonous mushrooms stop their wailing completely, releasing a tempting aroma.

"To be honest, that guy Huai Shi may be unethical, but this recipe is pretty good," Tony takes a skewer and bites into it, clicking his tongue appreciatively, "At least we don’t have to gnaw on compressed rations."

The companion sighs and picks up a skewer: "Though that’s true, you’ve completely got the recipe wrong, over half of the mushrooms you grew are poisonous."

"Lucian, you just don’t get it. Isn’t this adding a Hellish flavor? Toxic makes it more exciting," Tony eats with oil dripping, glancing toward the last companion in the tent.

"Want some?"

"Your cooking? No, thanks."

The ’companion’ wearing shackles snorts, uninterested.

Tony shrugs, unconcerned, tilting his head to peer into the distant fog, where countless bizarre illusions continually appear, enticing explorers to delve deeper.

Until they cannot extricate themselves, becoming skeletons in the mud, companions to countless corpses.

"Brilliant, truly brilliant."

Tony marvels, "This is much more exciting than Current Circumstances’ television dramas, this twist is truly remarkable."

Lucian shakes his head helplessly beside him.

Encountering a companion who uses poisonous mushrooms to enhance flavor and views curse illusions as a serial drama, for a legitimate Hell Explorer, is truly shocking.

After finishing a meal of toxic mushrooms, Tony lifts his sleeve, wipes the oil off his horse face, and turns to ask, "What time is it?"

Lucian checks his watch, "Current Circumstances time, 3:15 AM."

"We’ve been waiting for two days, right? Still not here?" Tony scratches his head, "Could it be that guy had bad luck and fell into the Ruler’s lair upon stepping out?"

Lucian wants to say, "You damn well talking nonsense," but upon reflection, has to admit, "Ah, with Huai Shi’s luck, it’s quite possible..."

As the ’guide’ arranged by the Astronomical Society in Hell, they have been waiting here for three days now.

According to the planned route, Huai Shi should have joined them a day ago, then both sides would collaborate until reaching around depth level 40 in the Domain of the Depth Area, then separate.

But now it seems, the plan had gone wrong from the start.

The Huai Shi team is a day late.

In Hell, anything could happen, perhaps they took a wrong turn, or met some misfortune, but it could also be... they have already died.

"Still wait?" Tony asks.

"Another day."

Lucian says, "We have our own mission, if he hasn’t arrived by then, we have to set off."

"Then one more day." Tony turns back to the tent, "General, what do you think?"

"Ha, is a prisoner’s opinion necessary to consider?" The General in shackles glances at him indifferently, "Even if disagreeing, doesn’t it just add more humiliation?"

"Honestly, you’ve become much easier to talk to since wearing shackles; I really don’t want to remove them," Tony sighs.

"You better not."

The General’s lips curl slightly, "I can’t guarantee what I’ll do."

"Don’t worry, I run fast."

Tony nonchalantly opens the bag, continues to place slices of fresh mushrooms, beginning to grill. But before he flips them for the second time, Lucian, who is rejuvenating with closed eyes, suddenly has a slight tremor in his finger.

On his wrist, among a string of beads of various colors, suddenly a bead emerges with gloom.

He remains silent for a moment, then suddenly says:

"We should go."

"No more waiting?"

"No more waiting." Lucian rises, starting to pack things quickly and neatly, "We need to go, quickly, otherwise there might be a mishap."

Tony does not persistently question the reason for the other’s judgment. In hell exploration, the least needed is reason—what is most needed, is precisely trust.

Trust should be given to those who can bear it.

In terms of hell exploration, Tony knows even ten thousand of himself combined wouldn’t compare to Lucian’s casual glance. So there’s nothing more to say. If he says to go, then go.

"What if Huai Shi arrives later?"

"If he can’t see us, he will know we’ve set off. He’s not someone who’d stay behind waiting foolishly; besides, he has his own mission." Lucian’s movements remain uninterrupted.