What was meant to happen finally came to pass.
After noticing the strange behavior of the Lao People, I knew something was about to occur; he wouldn’t suddenly act out of character for no reason. The moment the pavement surged, I reacted instinctively. I shoved the One-Eyed Beast into my mouth. I needed both hands free to face the unknown danger.
The tail end of the One-Eyed Beast had a groove that allowed me to bite down on it; otherwise, I would have lost it during previous dangerous encounters. However, this design also made it feel oddly repulsive when held in my mouth. If it weren’t for the urgent need to keep my hands free, I would have been extremely reluctant to shove it in there. Especially considering its diameter, which fit too perfectly with certain parts of the human anatomy, just thinking about it made me want to gag.
With both hands now free, I instinctively reached for my gun. Perhaps it was a self-protective instinct born from danger; even though I didn’t yet know what kind of threat I was facing, besides my teeth, this gun was all I had.
Buasong also positioned his wooden stick in front of him, his legs clamping tightly around it as he leaned slightly forward. I could see he was contemplating jumping into the water to rescue another Lao Person. That was far too reckless; the currents and whirlpools here could swallow him whole in an instant. I didn’t think that was a viable option. Yet, I couldn’t persuade him, nor could I express my thoughts accurately.
I quickly abandoned the idea of trying to convince him. If the person on the other side were Fatty, I wouldn’t give up either. I swiftly pulled a bundle of rope from my backpack, tying one end around Buasong’s waist and the other around my own. This way, if either of us fell into the water, as long as the other remained on the wood, we could pull each other back up.
As I tied the rope around Buasong, he glanced back at me. In the glaring light of the One-Eyed Beast, I saw tears in his eyes. However, he didn’t speak or show much emotion; perhaps he was simply too tense and repressed.
I understood how he felt.
What I was doing was extremely dangerous for me as well. If he truly chose to jump into the water without regard for his safety to save someone, while pulling him back up, there was a significant chance that I could be dragged down with him—perhaps even more so. If I hadn’t tied one end of the rope around my waist, I would have been safe; however, there would be no way for me to pull him up. The logic was clear: while preventing him from being swept away by the current, I first had to ensure my own safety on the wood. At that moment, holding onto the wood was crucial; I didn’t have the strength to grasp both it and the rope simultaneously.
After some time working together, Buasong and I had developed a certain level of understanding—especially with Buasong. He glanced at what I was doing and his expression visibly relaxed a bit; perhaps he felt that he wouldn’t easily perish after all. I thought we had established a degree of trust between us.
At that moment, boiling water surged upward in a climax; with it came countless tiny bubbles that turned the water near where the Lao People lay on their wood into a frothy white mass. It seemed like the water level had risen significantly.
Suddenly, both the Lao People and their wooden plank were lifted into the air.
Despite my heightened focus and the various scenarios I had considered, this sudden change caught me off guard. I shook my head and directed the light of the One-Eyed Beast into the sky. Fortunately, the beam of the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight was set to its maximum brightness. Although my reaction couldn't keep up with Lao People's speed, I managed to keep him within the light's range.
In the air, Lao People had separated from the wooden plank, which had split in two and was beginning to fall. However, Lao People continued to ascend, heading directly towards our Flow Channel. He was definitely using some sort of cheat, I muttered to myself as I quickly gripped the wood tighter. If he landed in our path, we might actually be able to rescue him. My job was to illuminate where he would land and prepare for Buasong to dive in for the rescue.
Lao People traced an arc in the air before diving into the water with a Van Pessy-like leap. I couldn't fathom his reasoning; perhaps he thought it would increase his surface area upon landing so he wouldn't sink immediately. But in that position, hitting the pavement would surely leave him half-dead.
Fortunately, his maneuver worked as intended. Lao People barely sank before bobbing back up from the pavement. The moment he hit the water, Buasong leaped in after him.
I was ready; my pistol was already tucked away, and I straddled the wood, gripping the rope that was falling into the water. The One-Eyed Beast continued to shine on Lao People ahead of us. Buasong's speed in the water couldn't match that of the wood drifting downstream, but Lao People's landing wasn't precisely on course either. He had drifted slightly off target, and Buasong needed to reach him before the wood floated past and grab him.
This was undoubtedly a daunting task. Lao People's landing spot was not far from us, but the current's speed far exceeded Buasong's lateral swimming speed. If Buasong couldn't reach Lao People in time, I'd have to make a choice: pull him up and abandon any hope of rescuing Lao People.
For now, I didn't need to exert myself; all I had to do was maintain illumination. However, I had to be ready at any moment—whether it was when the rope tightened or when Buasong managed to grab Lao People—I would need to haul one or both of them up. Frankly, I felt immense pressure.
Lao People had flown quite a distance; he must have traveled from far right of our channel to near left. I certainly didn't believe he could fly, but there wasn't time to ponder that now; at least I couldn't turn the One-Eyed Beast towards where he took off.
The One-Eyed Beast clamped between my teeth restricted my neck movement while the current shifted our positions constantly. I dared not let even a moment pass without keeping its light on Lao People; even a brief lapse in concentration could be disastrous. I knew that where there was no light lay darkness—a great danger closing in on me, Buasong, or another Lao People. All I could feel was a chill running down my spine; doing anything else felt like a luxury I couldn't afford. My intense focus allowed no room for distraction.
The wooden plank beneath me quickly outpaced Buasong. Facing forward on it, I had to twist my neck so that the One-Eyed Beast's light remained on the fluctuating figure of Lao People. Buasong had entered the beam of light from One-Eyed Beast—that was a good sign; I finally saw him clearly. My flashlight could only illuminate another Lao People nearby; I could only guess Buasong's progress. Now both figures were visible within the light's circle, close enough that their faces were discernible.
I gradually turned my neck back, exaggeratingly twisting my head—a test of flexibility for my neck muscles. Yet I couldn't turn my body; such a wide motion would destabilize my illumination—especially while balancing on this wooden plank and needing extreme focus—I simply couldn't manage it.
.
Comment 0 Comment Count