My Abyss Survival Diary

Chapter 42 Mutual Utilization

When Simon and Elphis returned to the camp, the campfire had almost burned out.

The orange flames struggled in the ashes, occasionally bursting into a spark that would flash for a moment before sinking again.

When it was time to change shifts, Klein and Badar, rubbing their sleepy eyes, left the tent and saw Mr. Bell sitting on the other side of the fire, his bear-head hat tucked under his arm, revealing a head of messy gray hair and a face covered in scars.

Klein saw Mr. Bell first, and his eyes widened suddenly.

"Mr. Bell!" His voice trembled.

A smile graced his scarred face, his eyes narrowing into slits. Mr. Bell dropped his hat, opened his strong arms, and pounced like a real bear, embracing Klein and Badar.

"Alright, alright, you're going to strangle me!" Klein shouted, struggling.

Simon greeted them, lifted the tent flap, and went inside.

The tent was small, only big enough for three people to lie down. Several clean tarpaulins were laid on the ground, and captured ammunition and canned goods were piled up in the corner.

The birdcage hung on the tent pole, and Brienne's head swayed gently inside, her long hair hanging down from the gaps in the bars, like a piece of black silk in the dim light.

Her eyes were closed, but upon hearing footsteps, she slowly opened them, her unfocused pupils precisely aimed in Simon's direction.

"Where did you go?" Her voice was soft and sweet, tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Why didn't you take me with you?"

Simon sat on the oilcloth, placed the harpoon at his feet, and unbuttoned his coat.

"Discussing a collaboration with a tunnel raider."

Brienne blinked her beautiful eyes, her pupils contracting slightly, like a cat catching a glimmer of light in the darkness.

"The cave raiders appeared on the first level?" Her voice rose a half octave, the languid, nonchalant tone vanished. "Unheard of!"

Simon looked up at her. "It's unheard of for heretics to appear on the first floor."

Brienne gave a bitter laugh, a laugh that was somewhere between helplessness and annoyance, as if she had been silenced by her own words.

Simon repeated Elphis's words.

The caller's urn of bones, the flesh of the hungry angel's sins—three conditions.

He spoke very briefly, without embellishing or omitting any key information.

Brienne's face flickered in the darkness, her eyes fixed on him, their gaze shimmering like two cold, lifeless stars.

"Is that guy reliable?" Simon asked.

Brienne's lips curled up into a wicked smile, the kind that only appears when she sees something interesting.

"You trust me that much, Mr. Simon?" She asked with a disdainful smile, raising an eyebrow. "You consult me ​​about everything? Please, I'm a heretic, your enemy!"

Simon shook his head: "I just wanted to hear your opinion. Whether I'll take it or not is uncertain."

"Seven parts true, three parts false." Her voice returned to its soft, nonchalant tone. "The part about the Summoner's bone jars is fine. The problem is that the tunnel raiders are all old foxes. They only care about their own interests. The tunnels they dig can only last a few minutes at most. They're too busy transporting samples out to have any time to transport people out."

Simon stroked his chin thoughtfully. Seven parts true, three parts false—this was pretty much what he had guessed.

"That's pretty much what I guessed."

"Then why are you still cooperating with them?"

"Cooperate, but don't listen to them." Simon closed his eyes, leaning against the floor mat. "In the final battle, whoever grabs that piece of meat gets to call the shots."

His thinking was very clear: the key to the decisive battle lay in that precious piece of flesh, the evidence of guilt.

Once Simon obtains it, he will have ample leverage to trade with the cave raiders and even the Empire; before this, their relationship was merely one of mutual exploitation.

Brienne laughed happily; there was no ferocity on her beautiful face, only pure, unadulterated joy.

"Are you really going to kill the Hungry Angel?"

Her voice trembled, a trembling of excitement that was almost like a triumphant cheer.

"right."

"That's great! Take me with you! You absolutely must take me! I want to witness your end."

The next morning, before dawn.

The fog was thicker than yesterday, and the grayish-white moisture clung to the ground like a weightless layer of snow.

Simon emerged from the tent, harpoon in hand, crossbow bolts in his quiver, the quiver lid fastened.

He checked his equipment, touching the dagger at his waist, the backpack and rifle on his back, making sure everything was there.

This also includes Brenée in the birdcage, of course.

At her strong suggestion, Simon adjusted her position so that even if he ran at full speed, Brienne wouldn't bounce around like a ball in a birdcage.

Elphis stood at the edge of the camp waiting for him, his iron mask slightly upturned, a strange homemade cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Upon seeing the "human head" in the birdcage, he showed no surprise whatsoever.

"Kidnapping a heretic to be an advisor, hmm, not a bad idea... Let's go."

He threw down his cigarette butt and led the way into the great cavern.

Simon and Brienne exchanged a surprised glance; this guy was indeed no ordinary person.

The two walked one after the other towards the large hollow.

The soil beneath our feet is getting softer and softer, and the air is getting more and more humid.

The soil around the edge of the large cavity was swirling and rolled up, like an old scar that had been torn open.

A cold wind blew up from below the cave entrance, carrying a damp, rotten smell, like the odor of a corpse soaking in water for a long time, causing the robe to flutter constantly.

Simon stood in a safe position at the edge of the cave entrance, bending down to gaze into the darkness, the thick, impenetrable darkness.

Elphis stood beside him, his iron mask facing a small patch of sky peeking through the abyss's stone wall.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch.

"They're almost there," he whispered a reminder.

The outline of the hot air balloon slowly emerged from the darkness at the bottom of the abyss, appearing in their field of vision...

Gradually, Simon saw a huge, dark gray airbag with seven or eight patches on the fabric, sewn together with coarse hemp thread. The seams bulged out like old scars on a balloon.

Every branch of the rattan hanging basket was soaked with the moisture of the fungal carpet, and grayish-white moss grew on its surface, trembling slightly in the morning breeze.

The flames from the burner illuminated the lower edge of the airbag, the bright light casting dappled shadows on the patches.

The hot air balloon rose very slowly, like an old, giant beast struggling to break free from a swamp, taking a deep breath for every meter it ascended.

As the altitude gradually increased, the clouds churned around its gasbag, leaving a dry, hollow ring baked out by the flames.

Simon looked up and watched the tattered shadow slowly glide across the treetops, obscuring the gray light of day.

The ropes of the gondola hung down, with several jingling tin cans swaying in the wind.