It was nearly dusk, the radio ran out of power, and the distress signal stopped. There were two paths in front of the gunsmith at the moment, either to stay where they were and wait for help or to get out of the rainforest on their own.

If this crash was not a conspiracy of the Empire, then within twenty hours, his disappearance would have been detected, and someone should have come to look for the plane that had suddenly lost contact, in which case it would undoubtedly be wiser to wait, but if it was a man-made accident, then it would probably be meaningless.

Although it was not too difficult for him to survive in this swamp with the gunsmith's ability, even if it was ten and a half days and a half, he really didn't want to waste too much time on something that was uncertain about the outcome.

In the end, he decided to find a way out on his own, because the gunsmith felt that he could get out of danger by relying on his own ability, which was actually the same as waiting for the rescue, and it would take more time and energy. Besides, if there is really rescue, if no one comes to look for it after waiting for a week, or if there are a few killers who collect the corpses after waiting for two or three days, wouldn't it be a cocoon?

Determined to do everything he needed to help him make a long walk through the jungle, he sewed thick cloth and seat belts into simple backpacks, the rest of which were attached to long ropes for backup, the oxygen masks on the plane were transformed into water reservoirs, and the ignition made of residual oil and spark plugs could be used for a long time.

The gunsmith's plan was to go west, or rather, to the sunset, because he couldn't tell the difference between east and west......

He was scheduled to get up at sunrise every day and hurry up early in the morning, even if the earth's magnetic field was disturbed, but as long as the sun rose as usual, at least he could be sure that he was always heading in the same direction and not in circles. At noon, when the sun was overhead, he stopped, found a place to make a fire to cook, rested a little, went hunting in the afternoon, prepared the next day's ration in advance, and when he had done this, he returned to the place where the fire was made, and from this point he began his journey again until the sun had completely set.

By the time his plans and preparations were complete, it was already dark.

There is always an oppressive silence in the rainforest, but there are also small and trivial sounds coming from time to time, and from time to time there are a few strange noises in the shadowy trees, whether it is the chirping of birds, the hissing of snakes, the drum noise of insects, or the breathing of a toad or something, or of course, two species in close proximity to each other in the food chain.

In the afternoon, when the rescue signal was not broken, the gunsmith was not idle, and he estimated that he would probably have to spend the night here, so he made a sleeping bag out of a chair cover to prevent some animals looking for heat from taking advantage of him while sleeping. In order to get up early tomorrow, he put on a life jacket, got into his sleeping bag and fell asleep.

It was a difficult night, the air was very humid and hot flashes, but it was still important to maintain body temperature, so the sweaty gunsmith slept very uncomfortably and woke up several times.

In his confusion, he had a dream that when he was a child, his grandfather took him to hunt together, and on the snowy slopes, they were crawling like two rocks, not moving, waiting for the moment when the prey relaxed their vigilance. Even though he was wrapped in a thick jacket, his young hands were still exposed to the cold air.

Grandpa never let the gunsmith wear gloves, even if the child's hand was frozen like a Xiaoice bump, and the tiny fingers seemed to break when he pulled the trigger, but the stubborn old Rohr did not compromise once. Because when pulling the trigger, the feeling of bare hands is different from wearing gloves, and that's why he is doing it. He always said to the gunsmith: "Charles, there is no such thing as a 'second shot' in this world, just like you can't come back a second time in life." This sentence is a mantra that the old man always hangs on his lips.

So the young gunsmith never had one chance, and he had only one bullet to decide if he missed a shot, or if he had dinner in the soup, whether it was venison or cold bread.

Nine-year-old Charles Rohr was armed with an old-fashioned shotgun that was enough to enter the museum, there was no infrared fixed point, no cross sight, not even a telescope, he had to rely on the naked eye, three points and one line to aim at the prey, and calculate the temperature, wind speed, air resistance, the prey's reaction when it heard the gunshot, and all other factors that could affect the result, in order to have a chance to hit the target hundreds of meters away from him.

Every bullet of a sharpshooter can take a life, so these bullets are sacred, they hold the soul of their master, convey respect, determination and show of superior skill.

As the gunshots rang out in the dream, the gunsmith woke up.

It was already slightly bright, and as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw a colored frog, lying less than a meter in front of him, and when he woke up, the guy quickly jumped up and slipped into the woods.

He quickly got up and packed up, took the food he had reserved for the day, rolled up his sleeping bag, tied it to the bag he had prepared, strapped it on his shoulders, and began to walk forward with the rising sun on his back.

In fact, with the strength of a gunsmith, it is okay to travel on a high place, but it is just to go up a tree and jump, but this is more physically demanding, so he still tries to walk on the ground, and when he encounters a swamp where the water level is higher than his waist, he considers taking the empty route, no one knows what will be in the water, spiders, snakes, snapping turtles...... Any animal with poison and germs can inhabit that muddy water, even if the bite of these things is purer than that of a virgin, you will not want to leave a wound in this humid environment, because there is a high chance that this wound will be infected by something else, if you have some kind of parasitic disease, you will either be blind or disabled in the next fifteen years, and the lightest is that you will never be able to participate in activities such as blood donation and take drugs for a long time, of course, many people do not live that long and are finished.

The morning went on like this, and the gunsmith couldn't tell how far he had walked, but there were times when he jumped up the tree to look, and saw only more trees......

He was thinking about whether to start his meal earlier, when suddenly he smelled a strange smell, obviously rancid, and it was not too far from him. It stands to reason that small and medium-sized animals rarely have corpses exposed to the wilderness, they will basically be swallowed whole by predators, at most a little bone is left, and the residue on it will be quickly cleaned up by scavengers, how can there be such an obvious smell at this moment? Could it be that there are large animals dying nearby? This is strange, there are no lions and coyotes in the rainforest, even if some are transported, they can get the crocodile?

The gunsmith pondered as he approached where the scent was coming from, and he pushed aside a few huge leaves, and a shocking scene appeared before his eyes.