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Pushing aside the pile of dead leaves, Gordon picked up a handful of charred ash from the ground and reached out to rub it.

This is the firewood ashes, which should have been left by the people of the Blood Prison Society, and they were specially piled with fallen leaves to hide their whereabouts. Under a bush, Gordon found a pile of leftover beast bones and hard human feces, estimating that the other had left about a week ago.

In this area, a fire is a must. At first, Gordon didn't know it, but he drank the water from the river as he had done in the past, and after three hours, he vomited and diarrhea, and had a low-grade fever, only to realize that there were countless parasites hidden in the river that were difficult to distinguish with the naked eye, and the water must be boiled before drinking.

The beasts here also drink river water all year round, so they have a large number of foreign bodies in their bodies, and they also need to be cooked and eaten.

This undoubtedly greatly increases the danger. The firelight is like a bright target, attracting not only fierce beasts, but also peers.

Gordon picked up some dry branches, piled them on the ashes, and built a stove out of a few pieces of sandstone, intending to make a fire here to eat. The Blood Hell Society apparently carefully chose the location where the fire would be lit up, as it was a low-lying terrain surrounded by lush shrubs and a dense canopy of trees above that obscured most of the fire.

Gordon first scraped a lot of debris from the bush with a dagger, then found a piece of dry wood, dug an eye on it, piled up the wood chips around it, and then put a sharpened stick against the wood, rubbed it quickly, and began to drill the wood for fire.

After a while, the green smoke curled, and the sawdust was first ignited, and the faint flames jumped out, and then the dead branches burned, and the fire swayed with the smoke. Gordon took out a large turtle shell that he had hunted, filled it with river water, and put it on the stove to put in the rest of the turtle meat.

Then he jumped on the canopy, set up his crossbow, and looked around cautiously.

Whether eating, sleeping, or walking, he could not be truly at peace. The whole person should be like a taut string, always vigilant.

In the long run, this string that has been stretched to the limit will eventually break, but Gordon regards this as a kind of cultivation.

"Gordon...... "He faintly heard his name called, ...... it was a strange voice from deep in the jungle.

The Goyin Monster is a gray tin level monster, with an ugly appearance, a beak like a crooked beak, long and sharp, and a surprisingly friendly voice, which can naturally perceive the names of other civilized races. Once the person whose name is called opens his mouth to respond, even if it is far away, it will attract endless pursuit and killing by the hook monster. On the contrary, if left unattended, even if they are face to face, the hook monster will be blind and blind to its prey.

It didn't take long for the water to boil, and the turtle broth was milky white in color and fragrant. Gordon immediately jumped down, extinguished the fire, and swallowed as fast as he could.

In order to reduce the danger, he would only light a fire again after two days to eat, and usually feed on wild fruits and pupa insects from the trees. The pupa is the size of a finger, fat and juicy, and although it has a fishy and bitter taste and is difficult to swallow, the pupa has no parasites on its body, and the nutrient-rich flesh and water are enough to maintain the body's needs.

Buried in the ashes, Gordon headed deeper into the jungle. After a week's rest, his wound had scabbed over and was slowly recovering. The cicada can only stop the bleeding, and the recovery of the injury still depends on its own physique.

Along the way, he showed the clues left by the members of the Blood Prison Society several times, and he was also in danger frequently, without a chance to breathe. An ancient tree with eye lines suddenly cracked open its belly and wanted to swallow him in one gulp; Six black lead-level sand wolves besieged and chased after them; A gray-tin iron-clawed eagle was always hovering over him, lingering, looking for an opportunity to pounce......

Every time he is in danger, Gordon always escapes first, and no matter how weak the opponent is, he will not fight hard. Then he sneaked back, observed for a long time, and suddenly launched a sneak attack. The ancient tree was pierced by his eye in the center of the trunk, and the trunk cracked and fell; Six sand wolves were killed one by one; Eventually, he lured the Ironclaw Eagle to fly closer, and shot an arrow through the eagle's throat.

A month later, as Gordon scooped water by the river, a few wisps of green smoke rose from the trees opposite.

He immediately walked around, and with the cover of the grass and trees, tiptoed to the direction where the fireworks were rising. In order not to leave a sound of footsteps, Gordon simply took off his boots and walked barefoot.

About three hundred meters away, Gordon stopped and leaned down. Through the gaps in the foliage, he saw a man with a cloak and hood up, sitting with his back to him. Opposite the man, a bonfire burned brightly, and beside the fire lay a cowhide bladder, and on the side lay a bloody lynx, stripped of its skin and hollowed out.

Gordon set up the crossbow and wound it slowly at a very slow pace. Here it was close to the river, and the sound of the rushing water drowned out the slight sound of the upper winding.

Adjusting the angle of the crossbow arrow, he aimed it at the back of the opponent's head and put his finger on the trigger.

Just as he was about to ejaculate, Gordon suddenly felt a little inappropriate. The man never moved, as if he was in deep thought.

In a dangerous situation, how could a veteran of the Blood Prison Society be so stunned? He should eat as fast as he can!

Gordon slammed into the ground, released the trigger, and did not dare to act rashly. He first looked around to determine the route of retreat, and then remained motionless, quietly observing the other party.

Half an hour passed, and the light of the fire gradually faded, and it was about to burn out. The man still didn't move, the cloak on his body didn't rise or fall in the slightest, and it seemed that he had stopped breathing.

After another moment, a figure suddenly leaped out of the bushes by the fire, his body was burly, his face was full of scars, and his gloves were stabbed with dark green fists.

"Come out, how can there be a fool like this now? What a waste of time! The scar-faced man shouted with his head tilted. Another figure jumped from the towering branches, emaciated, with a grim gaze and a dagger clenched in both hands.

These two people are actually old acquaintances of Gordon, and they almost clashed with Gordon in the huàn shop.

"It's better to be careful." The thin man glanced around, added some dry twigs to the fire, and grabbed the cloak beside him. Under the cloak was a wooden figure carved out of a tree stump.

Gordon suddenly knew in his heart that the two men were worried that the fire would attract a strong enemy, so they secretly ambushed each other on the side, attracting each other's attention with the corpses of wooden people and lynxes. If it is a fierce beast, it will go after the lynx. If it is a peer who takes advantage of the fire to rob, he will inevitably hit the wooden man by mistake and incur a flank attack by the two.

The big man with Scarface grabbed the lynx and grilled it over the fire while keeping an eye on his surroundings. The thin man stood half a meter away from him, looking at him just as much. The perspectives of the two of them happen to form a circle, filling in each other's corners beyond the other's line of sight.

This is the Assassin's full view of blockade. Relying on each other's cooperation, do not miss a little wind and grass around you.

Gordon remained motionless until the lynx was golden brown and fragrant, and he re-applied the trigger, his crossbow slowly aimed at the scar-faced man's neck.

The skinny man was clearly more alert, or rather nervous, than his companion. The corners of his eyes kept jumping, and the dagger kept spinning in his palm, as if ready to stab at any moment. Compared to him, the scar-faced man is the best target.

"You can't even get wine in this hellish place, damn it, I'll go back after a month." The scar-faced man licked his lips, tore off a lynx thigh, and opened his mouth to gnaw.

Gordon calmly pulled the trigger.

A burst of white light pierced the scarface's throat and pinned him to the trunk of a tree behind his back. At the same time, Gordon threw off his crossbow and rolled aside.

"Smack!" A dagger flew out of the thin man's hand and struck Gordon just now, splattering rubble on his face.