Stepping out of that dilapidated cabin, I prepared to move forward. But raising my eyes to the wreckage of ships and planes piled up ahead like small hills, I felt completely at a loss.

To be honest, as an ordinary person, not made of iron, having gone through so much, on top of previous injuries, my physical strength was already completely depleted. I looked at my hands, covered in scratches—some from the bones in the cave, some from fighting unknown monsters, and others left from sliding through the underground river.

I clenched my fist, only to find my fingers weak; making a fist made my whole body tremble like an addict going through withdrawal. It was a clear sign of total physical exhaustion coupled with extreme mental fatigue.

If I forced myself to keep walking in this state, I might collapse somewhere and never get up again. What I needed right now was food, water, and a good night's sleep.

With that thought, I glanced at the massive, glowing object still far in the distance, and finally decided to rest first. So, I returned to the broken-down cabin, first setting down the backpack that had gotten soaked by the water, then dragging my weary body back out to gather some pieces of wood from the wrecked vessels.

The air here was incredibly damp, and it took considerable effort to start a small campfire. But the flame from this fire was small, yet the smoke was intensely thick, nearly choking me to death.

I had no choice but to crawl and tumble out of the cabin, waiting for the moisture in the firewood to evaporate completely and the smoke to thin out before I dared return inside. This cabin couldn't really shelter me from the wind and rain; the countless holes in its roof did nothing to help me retain body heat.

Yet, in this environment, it offered a semblance of cover, as who knew what other beasts might lurk here besides those strange giant worms. I was thoroughly drenched by the river water and covered in mud; cleaning myself was unavoidable.

Fortunately, there were many rivers around. I found the nearest one, stripped off all my clothes to wash them clean, and then took a quick bath by the shallow bank.

I had intended to fetch some water back to boil and drink, but while bathing, I noticed a sharp, stinging pain whenever the river water touched my small scratches. Scooping some up and tasting it, I realized this wasn't river water at all; it had a brackish, salty flavor—it was like seawater.

I was quite surprised, which only heightened my curiosity about the source of these rivers. There was no point in drinking saltwater.

Thankfully, I had filled both my canteens when I was in the underground river, so I wasn't in immediate danger of dying of thirst here. Clutching my clothes, I walked back to the ruined cabin naked, found a few broken wooden sticks, fashioned a rudimentary rack, and hung my clothes up to dry.

Additionally, I located a relatively flat piece of broken iron plate to use as a stool. Sitting by the fire, warming myself, I took out a can of soybeans and began to eat.

I ate very slowly, because as I stared into the flickering flames, with the temperature just right, my eyelids started to droop heavily. I fought the drowsiness, finishing the entire can, then took Mr.

Wu’s overcoat—which was already about seventy percent dry from the heat—and draped it over myself before dozing off right there. I don't know how I fell asleep; I intended to remain somewhat vigilant, but the exhaustion hit me too fiercely; I couldn't resist it.

I hadn't eaten my fill, nor was I fully clothed; sleeping wasn't comfortable. I couldn't figure out why people sleep so restlessly when they aren't wearing clothes.

If you aren't dressed, you always dream you're walking naked down a busy street, or that you realize you have no pants on during a lecture and dare not stand up, terrified of being laughed at. Perhaps it's an excessive worry stemming from some inherent sense of modesty?

In any case, this time I dreamed I was going to a hot spring. I stripped off my clothes but couldn't find the entrance to the men's bath.

Just then, a group of women wrapped in towels came chattering out of the women's bath and caught sight of me standing there, completely bare, in the hallway. For a virgin like me, that dream was enough to wake me in a cold sweat.

So I yelled, "I'm not a pervert!" and jolted awake from the dream. Upon waking, I immediately sprang up and hastily grabbed my clothes, which were now partially dry, and put them on.

Only after dressing did I feel the soreness throughout my body. However, the dry clothes still holding the residual warmth of the fire made me feel much better, and I stretched leisurely.

I picked up the silver pocket watch from the ground. When I first found it, I wound it, and discovered it was still running.

Although I didn't know the exact time now, judging by the starting time of 2:30, I had slept for nearly five hours. For someone as utterly exhausted as I was, five hours wasn't much, but I didn't have time to waste, especially underground where I hadn't yet figured out the situation—every second was critical to survival.

I looked down at the small pile of embers on the ground; the fire had died down, with only tiny red sparks flickering and emitting a faint wisp of pale smoke. Out of habit, I poured some water from my canteen onto the embers until the fire was completely extinguished, then slung my pack over my shoulder and headed toward the exit.

I have to say, this habit of mine prevented a massive problem, or perhaps even saved my life, in what happened next. Because just as I was walking toward the cabin exit, I suddenly heard a strange sound from outside.

The sound was extremely rapid and piercing, immediately signaling to anyone who heard it that something bad was about to happen. And this wasn't the first time I had heard this sound; it felt oddly familiar.

It was a drawn-out "Whooo..." sound, mixed with a grinding, clanking noise like metal hitting metal. Yes, I thought about it, and realized it was the sound a fighter jet makes when it loses control and plummets from the sky.

I thought, That's odd. Am I about to witness a plane crash firsthand?

As I looked up toward the ceiling, sure enough, through a hole above the cabin, I saw the tail section of a plane spewing smoke, spiraling downward with a screeching noise. I was utterly stunned, my jaw nearly hitting the floor.

Where on earth did this plane come from? There must be miles of rock layer above it!

In that moment of shock, the plane slammed into the ground with a tremendous, shattering crash, but there was no explosion. I guessed the plane must have landed on this accumulated wreckage of years, which provided some cushioning, thus preventing an immediate blast.

So, I shouted, "Company!" and tried to rush out to help. But just as the noise from the plane began to settle slightly, I suddenly heard heavy footsteps resounding all around me.

This time, I was shocked beyond measure again, because it sounded like there were people here! And quite a few of them!

Why hadn't I seen anyone here before? And what was their purpose in coming out now?

I waited for the answer, thinking that once I got a clear look at who these people were, I might finally understand. Sure enough, after a short wait, several heavy footfalls grew closer to the dilapidated cabin where I was hiding.

Clearly, a few people were about to pass by my location. I noted that although their steps were heavy, they were also rushed; they must be moving quickly.

I found a section of the cabin that wasn't too severely damaged and concealed myself, ensuring that those passing outside wouldn't spot me immediately through the holes. After waiting for about ten seconds, the footsteps drew nearer, and then, through a broken opening opposite me, I saw several figures, nearly ten feet tall, striding rapidly from a short distance away.

I silently mouthed, "My God!" but dared not make a sound. Because what kind of people could possibly stand three meters tall?

Even if five or six Shaquille O'Neals appeared together, the sight wouldn't be this jarring. Their steps were quick, and coupled with their already long legs, they moved like a gust of wind, swiftly arriving in front of the broken cabin where I was hiding.

At this point, I was almost unable to stop myself from shouting, because I had clearly seen the appearance of these individuals. They were wearing wide robes resembling bat-wing cloaks, and as they walked, the fabric billowed, making them look like giant, floating black specters.