Desperate Escape

Chapter 2: Desperate Flight

The courtyard was deathly still, a stark contrast to the faint, spine-chilling roars and insect chirps drifting in from outside. Chen An leaned against the cold, rough stone wall for a full ten-plus minutes before he managed to suppress the post-escape tremors.

"Absolute Safe Zone..." He murmured the words under his breath, as if trying to grasp the true meaning behind them through sheer repetition. Logic told him this was beyond belief, but the peace his body felt and the crystal-clear system message in his mind confirmed it wasn't an illusion.

He took a deep breath. The thick, almost tangible spiritual energy in the courtyard flooded his lungs, bringing a slight dizziness but also lifting his spirits. He had to act—just sitting here wouldn't keep him alive in this godforsaken place.

The first priority was to confirm the boundary of this "absolute safety" and just how "absolute" it really was.

He stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and cautiously approached the courtyard gate. The half-rotted wooden door was still ajar, and through the gap, he could see the perilous primeval forest outside. He reached out, hesitated, then gently touched the threshold.

It felt cold—just ordinary wood. He took another deep breath and slowly stepped one foot over the threshold.

The moment his sole was about to touch the ground outside, an indescribable sense of dread surged up! It was as if his primal instincts had triggered the most piercing alarm, every cell in his body screaming "Danger!" The air outside seemed to thicken with malice, and that omnipresent, savage pressure pressed down on his soul once more.

He yanked his foot back, his heart pounding wildly, cold sweat instantly soaking his back. Just a line's difference, yet it felt like heaven and hell. He had no doubt that if he fully stepped out of this courtyard, he'd be torn to shreds by some Demonic Beast in the next second.

"So, the boundary is definitely this wall," he muttered to himself, gaining a visceral understanding of the system's power. It was reassuring, yet also despairing—he was a prisoner trapped in a safe house, his range limited to this tiny, dozen-pace courtyard.

Next, he needed to test "immunity to all external attacks."

He scanned the yard, his eyes landing on a decayed wooden beam half-buried in the dirt, as thick as an arm. He struggled to pull it out; it was heavy in his hands. Gripping the beam tightly, he walked to the gate and carefully extended one end outside.

Then, he held his breath and waited.

At first, nothing unusual happened. But after a few minutes, a fist-sized insect, shaped like a dragonfly but with a terrifying, metallic-gleaming mouthpart, buzzed over, attracted by the "foreign object." It circled the beam twice, seeming puzzled, then dove sharply, its razor-like mouthpart striking the wood with a thud!

A dull thump echoed, and a small wood chip was pecked off.

Chen An's hand jerked, nearly dropping the beam. The insect lost interest and flew away.

He quickly pulled the beam back inside and examined it closely. Aside from the shallow gouge, the beam was fine. And when the insect attacked, he hadn't felt any impact or vibration through his hand.

"The attack was isolated... or rather, when the part outside was hit, the force couldn't reach my hand inside the yard?" He pondered. This was an important discovery—it meant that even if something attacked the wall or a tool he extended, as long as he was inside, he was safe.

To verify further, he mustered his courage, took out the half-bottle of mineral water from his backpack, unscrewed the cap, and poured a small amount onto the ground outside the gate.

The water quickly seeped into the soil. Nothing unusual.

But he didn't dare pour more—who knew what resources here might attract something terrible. He recapped the bottle; this half-bottle was a lifeline.

The initial boundary and safety tests were done, and the results were satisfying, thoroughly dashing any thoughts of leaving anytime soon. Now, he needed to fully explore this tiny sanctuary and see what useful things he could find.

He first walked to the well in the corner of the yard. The wellhead was half-covered by a thick stone slab, moss-covered. He pushed the slab aside with effort, and a cool, damp air rushed up. The well was deep; peering down, it was dark and bottomless, but the walls were solid stone blocks, looking fairly stable.

He picked up a small stone and dropped it in. After several seconds, a clear "plop" echoed back.

"There's water!" Chen An's spirits lifted. Water meant half the survival problem was solved. He'd need to make a tool to draw it, but that could wait. He noted this vital resource.

Next was the main stone house. Inside, it was even more dilapidated than his quick glance earlier. Several obvious holes in the roof let shafts of sunlight pierce through, illuminating the dust dancing in the air. Scattered on the floor were the remains of completely rotted wooden furniture that crumbled at a touch. In a corner, he found a severely rusted woodcutter's knife and a similarly rusted hoe; their wooden handles had rotted away.

"Better than nothing." Chen An wasn't disappointed—he was pleasantly surprised. Metal tools meant they could be repaired. He carefully carried the knife and hoe outside and set them down.

Then there was the thatched shed, empty inside except for thick dust. It seemed the previous owner had taken everything usable when they left.

Finally, the barren garden. The soil looked decent, dark and rich, but overgrown with tenacious weeds from long neglect. He pushed the grass aside with his foot and examined the dirt closely.

"Loose soil, seems pretty fertile..." As an engineering grad who once dreamed of retiring to a rural life, Chen An had basic agricultural knowledge. If he could till it and plant the seeds he'd brought, he'd have a long-term food source!

After the exploration, Chen An had a basic understanding of the courtyard: safe, with water, arable land, and broken but repairable tools. The fundamental conditions for survival were miraculously all present.

A strong will to survive drove him to act immediately. The first tasks were repairing tools and getting drinking water.

He picked up the heavily rusted woodcutter's knife and split some relatively solid wood chips from the rotten beam. Without sandpaper, he found a flat, rough stone, dipped it in well water, and began patiently grinding off the rust.

"Scrape... scrape..." The monotonous sound echoed in the silent yard. It was a tedious, laborious process, and sweat soon soaked his forehead. But he focused entirely on the task, his mind clear of distractions. This concentration on concrete work oddly eased his inner fear and confusion.

After nearly an hour, the thick rust on the knife's surface was mostly worn away, revealing a dull but now sharp blade. He found a suitable stick, trimmed it with the knife, and fashioned a rough handle, fixing the blade to it.

Crude, but a usable knife was born!

A sense of accomplishment welled up. He repeated the process, starting to grind the hoe.

Meanwhile, he did a simple "test" on the well water. Using his mineral water bottle tied to a rope, he drew up a small amount. First, he observed: the water was clear, colorless, and odorless. He didn't dare drink it directly but dripped a few drops on his wrist—no stinging or discomfort. Then, he cautiously licked a tiny bit; it tasted sweet and cool, with no odd flavor.

"Should be... okay?" He hesitated, but intense thirst eventually overrode caution. He took a small sip. An indescribable, crisp sweetness instantly moistened his parched throat, and a faint warmth seemed to spread through his limbs, easing his fatigue.

"This water... amazing!" Chen An was overjoyed. This well water was more delicious than any mineral or spring water he'd ever had, and it seemed to contain some strange energy. He didn't hesitate, drinking his fill, then refilled his mineral water bottle with well water.

With tools repaired and water confirmed safe, Chen An's confidence soared. He watched the sun sinking westward and knew he had to find food and a relatively safe place to sleep before dark.

The stone house had holes in the roof—obviously not ideal. His eyes fell on the thatched shed. Crude as it was, it could at least block wind and rain... if it rained at night.

He decided to make the shed his temporary "home." First, he used the knife to cut some soft thatch and spread it inside as a simple "bed." Then, knife in hand, he turned his gaze to the courtyard gate.

He needed food, and food was likely outside. The earlier test with the beam had left him wary, but hunger drove him to take the risk.

He walked to the gate again. This time, instead of extending the whole tool, he reached the knife outside and carefully used its tip to poke at the grass near the entrance. He hoped to find some edible plants close by, or... with luck, catch a small animal.

The grass parted, revealing soil and some unknown low plants. No familiar wild greens, no sign of small animals. Disappointed, he was about to pull the knife back when his peripheral vision caught movement under a bush not far away.

It was a creature resembling a wild rabbit, but smaller, with gray-brown fur, nibbling on some red berries. It didn't seem to notice the activity at the gate.

Chen An's heart leaped into his throat. An opportunity!

He held his breath, slowly extending the knife fully outside, its tip aimed toward the little beast. The distance was about three or four meters—far beyond his arm's reach. He couldn't strike it.

What now?

His mind raced. Charging out would be suicide. The only way was to lure it over... or create an opportunity.

He glanced at the cleaver in his hand, then at the small stones on the ground. A risky plan took shape in his mind.

He quietly withdrew the cleaver and picked up a few stones of suitable size. Then, taking a deep breath, he hurled one with all his strength toward the bushes beside the small beast!

Thwack! The stone struck the brush with a sharp sound.

Startled, the small beast jerked its head up, scanning its surroundings warily, but it didn't flee immediately—as if judging the noise no direct threat.

Chen An's heart stirred. Promising! This animal was alert, but it didn't seem as aggressive as the Demonic Beasts he'd seen before.

He threw another stone, this time landing closer to the beast.

The creature hopped back a step, letting out a warning squeak, but still didn't retreat far, reluctant to leave the berry patch.

Chen An waited patiently, lying motionless like a statue behind the crack in the door. Time ticked by. Seeing no further danger, the beast gradually relaxed, lowering its head to nibble berries again, though it occasionally glanced toward the courtyard gate.

Now!

Seizing the moment, Chen An hurled the third stone precisely onto the open ground in front of the beast. It bounced upon landing and rolled right up to the doorstep!

This sudden noise from a closer, "fresher" direction finally spooked the beast completely. In its panic, it instinctively bolted away from the source of the stones—the direction of Chen An's throwing arm—along what seemed the only "open" path: straight toward the courtyard gate!

It shot forward like a gray blur, charging at the door!

Chen An's heart nearly burst from his chest! Already poised, the instant the beast's front paws crossed the threshold, he slammed down hard with the back of the cleaver!

Thump!

A dull sound, mingled with the faint crack of bone. The cleaver struck the beast's neck precisely. It didn't even have time to cry out before collapsing limply across the doorstep, half inside the yard, half out.

Got it!

No time for joy—enormous risk followed! The thick smell of blood was already spreading, and who knew what it might attract!

Without hesitation, he dragged the beast's carcass fully into the yard with all his strength, then slammed the old wooden door shut, bracing it with a wooden stick he'd prepared while sharpening tools!

Done, he slumped against the door, sliding to the ground, panting heavily, drenched in sweat. Staring at the still-warm prey at his feet, fear, excitement, and a faint unease from the cruelty mingled in his heart.

But he knew: in the Primordial World, mercy was suicide. He had taken his first step toward survival in this brutal land.

Night fell quietly. Outside the yard, all kinds of terrifying roars echoed back and forth, far denser and more chilling than during the day. Inside, Chen An lit a small fire from rotten wood and thatch. The orange flames flickered, driving back the darkness and chill, bringing a meager yet vital warmth and sense of safety.

He processed the small beast, his gaze occasionally drifting past the dancing flames toward the boundless darkness beyond the door, his eyes complex.

This was only his second day surviving in the Primordial World. The road ahead was long and arduous.

(End of Chapter 2)