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墨書 Inktalez
It seemed that Buasong realized I was injured, and the voice I heard earlier was calling another Lao Person for help. This Lao Person had a shorter rope, which couldn't be swung too far, so I had to rely on Buasong to swing me over. The immense pain had drained my strength; I didn't even have the energy to lift my head to look at Buasong. As the rope swung toward the other Lao Person, I took the opportunity to move my stiff left hand a bit. I couldn't hold on much longer; this time, I had to grab the rope.
As my physical strength dwindled, the longer I delayed, the worse my chances of saving myself became. I wasn't foolish enough to think that sheer willpower could overcome everything.
My left hand was much more agile than my right; at least it didn't hurt when I reached upward and could stretch it to its fullest extent. Yet even so, no matter how hard I tried to extend my left hand, it couldn't reach my right hand—it felt as if my right arm had grown longer. I knew what was happening and could only smile bitterly at it, giving myself a nod for my endurance and willpower. My right arm had dislocated.
As I swung toward the other rope, I had to concentrate intensely, keeping my eyes fixed on the rope hanging slightly higher while also observing the movements of that Lao Person. Our coordination among the three of us couldn't afford even the slightest mistake; otherwise, it would end in tragedy.
I couldn't be sure whether this outcome would be good or bad because the position of the other Lao Person was quite precarious. He was at the very end of a branch, and his weight had already bent it dramatically like a bow. Adding my weight—would this branch break? It was hard to tell. But there were no other options; we would only know the result once it happened.
The Lao Person lay flat on the branch like a big monkey, swaying with the treetop. As I swung toward him, his face gradually came into focus; he looked very concentrated but not tense, as if this task wasn't particularly difficult for him. I didn't know where his confidence came from; perhaps it was because he wasn't the one in danger. Nonetheless, his expression gave me some reassurance.
The rope he held was still far from me; if it just hung there, there was no way I could grab it. I knew he was waiting for the right moment to swing one end of the rope toward me, just like he had done when he whipped it across my face earlier. My job was to reach out and grab one end of the rope at just the right moment.
The process of swinging over felt like it should be brief, but to me, it seemed interminable. My left palm was sweating profusely, but rainwater had soaked me completely by now; that little sweat wouldn't affect my grip on the rope.
I was almost at the highest point of my swing when the rope hanging in front of me remained still. My heart raced with frustration.
Suddenly, the rope in front of me flicked like a nimble snake, slicing through the rain curtain and shooting toward my face like an arrow parting water. The short length of the rope meant its movement would be quick; this tested my reflexes severely. I knew that if this rope entered my reach, it was crucial that I grab it in an instant without any mistakes.
I reached out for it; my eyes could no longer be trusted for judgment. The moment I felt the strong tug of the rope against my hand, I seized it. My taut nerves and nearly numb right hand relaxed simultaneously. My right arm fell uncontrollably downward, numbness erasing any pain.
The rope pulled me forward as I swung out; this time felt like a significant arc. The initial drop was alarming as if the branch might snap. I nervously watched the Lao Person above me, feeling ten times more anxious than riding a roller coaster. As I swung outward, that branch bent down significantly under our combined weight; my tense face contrasted with the Lao Person's calm expression—it created a somewhat comical scene.
Lao People always maintained a crouched position on the tree branch, one arm gripping the rope and swinging vigorously in the direction I was moving. At that moment, I realized just how short that rope was; one of his hands was holding onto the other end, and it looked like he was straining.
Hold on! Damn it, can't you find a longer rope?
Just then, I witnessed the most shocking scene of my life. The hand gripping the rope above my head let go.
As that hand released its grip, the branch that was about to snap under pressure and Lao People quickly sprang upward, disappearing into the dense canopy of leaves. Simultaneously, the taut rope collapsed like a fallen stack of blocks, coming down toward me. I cursed under my breath and resignedly let go of the rope.
Suddenly, I felt an inexplicable sense of relief, as if a burdened porter had unloaded his load while climbing a mountain and gained freedom. Of course, what I had unloaded was the weight on my heart, and it was a complete release. In that moment of losing control, the shadow of Li Squad Leader appeared in my mind—someone who had given me immense pressure despite our limited interactions. I began to contemplate how to explain my years of mediocrity when I met him in that world.
However, this sense of relaxation did not last long; just as I had adopted this calm mindset, a sharp Severe Pain shot through my right arm. I realized I had collided with something.
Despite the Severe Pain nearly taking my life, survival instinct compelled me to grab onto something. Then my face plunged into a mass of leaves, and the back of my head struck something hard. Before me appeared countless golden stars, leaves, and raindrops; in my daze, I couldn't tell which were real.
I lay sprawled on a thick cluster of branches that could serve as a cushion. It was in this backward position that I fell onto another tree, and I was grateful for how lush this tree was. However, my weight caused the branch to sway precariously; its tip drooped downward, leaving my body in a half-upright position In Midair.
I desperately clung to whatever I could on the branch, maintaining an awkward posture. From a distance, it might have looked like I was sprawled out comfortably among dense branches, appearing relaxed and carefree. But the reality was that after being thrown over by Lao People, my body kept sliding downward. Here I was again in such an uncomfortable and ungraceful position; if I had landed flat on this branch, I could have pulled myself up. Now my right arm was practically useless, making even rolling over impossible.
To make matters worse, this tree's resilience was clearly stronger than that of a Banyan Tree. The branch swayed under my weight like a willow branch in the wind.
I recalled Li Mu Bai from the movie Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, standing with his sword atop an unattainable treetop—elegant and poised. Now I understood that it was all fiction; the real sensation was dizziness and nausea—I couldn't help but feel like throwing up.
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