Eric swallowed her scream, holding her breath as waves of pain twisted through her core.
As the serpentine tongue flicked menacingly toward her face once more, she instinctively leaned back—just out of reach—but terror gripped her tightly, nearly suffocating her.
Remarkably, the giant python had not retreated. It remained coiled near the mire, its mud-caked head probing the surroundings, its flickering tongue relaying airborne prey information.
After enduring utter terror, Eric realized the beast had yet to detect her presence.
Gazing downward at the thick layer of mud enveloping her, overwhelming joy surged within her heart. Fortunately, she had purchased healing kits; her wounds from the broken leg bleed no longer! Thus, the python feasted on an open-mouthed crocodile reeking of blood and flesh, oblivious to the mud-shrouded figure that was she.
Suppressing her elation, she cautiously inched sideways, inch by inch—and miraculously, she successfully crawled four or five meters away.
Upon standing and sprinting behind a tree, Eric felt as though she had died and been reborn—had she truly escaped the python's clutches?
As these thoughts raced through her mind, a tremendous splash echoed from the swamp; the python plunged half its enormous body into the mire, sending water spraying everywhere—including upon Eric.
Her heart pounded with dread. Had she remained within that swampy grasp, death would have been certain!
Frozen in place, Eric remained still as the python finally withdrew. The massive creature's passage carved a broad, winding clearing through the forest. Observing toppled, severed trees, she finally exhaled deeply.
Not rushing away, Eric returned to the swamp's edge, extracting ten buckets of mud before ceasing. Though she and Sister Zhuang's group had smeared earth on exposed skin, the python had nevertheless tracked them. Whether these muds held unique properties or simply masked her scent and heat—perhaps both—the truth was clear: she had to carry this mud with her, reapplying it to her body whenever possible.
Encumbered by her precious mud, Eric resumed her journey, directionless in her quest for the halo—resolving to take one step at a time.
She encountered no players; their fates unknown. Misfortune descended midday as rain began to fall. Raising her hand, she watched the half-dried mud dissolve and quickly donned a raincoat, pressing onward amidst the downpour.
Signs of the python's presence marked the path. Eric followed cautiously, sensing this monstrous serpent might hold the key to uncovering the halo—perhaps the game's cunning design was precisely this: players, spooked by the python, instinctively fled, unwittingly straying from the clues carried by the very beast they sought to avoid—until exhaustion overcame them and they became its prey.
With this thought, Eric reverently tracked the python's path through the forest. The rain intensified, its steady patter masking the creature's subtle movements, amplifying Eric's vigilance for any sudden glances back that might meet the python's gaze—a nightmare she dared not endure.
Unconsciously, night fell, marking her second day in the dungeon. Though equipped with supermarket hacks alleviating concerns over sustenance, Eric avoided overdependence—gathering edible wild fruits to supplement her rations alongside supermarket provisions.
Clad in rainwear beneath a tree, she swallowed the last bite of bread, sipped water, and pressed forward. The rain washed away spiderwebs and insects; eschewing torchlight, she relied solely on her flashlight for illumination.
A sudden strange noise rang out nearby; Eric spun, brandishing her knife.
"Is that you? Eric!"
A familiar silhouette emerged from the darkness. The flashlight beam revealed Sister Zhuang.
"Sister Zhuang?" No python—relief washed over Eric. She bore no concern that her raincoat and flashlight might arouse suspicion; along her path there had been signs of human passage—flattened water bottles, tattered jackets, rusted frames. Sister Zhuang herself was wrapped in a patchwork of semi-new canvas, sporting waterproof plastic shoes.
"Unexpected to meet you. Have you found any clues?" Sister Zhuang sought shelter beside her, casting an admiring glance at Eric's raincoat and flashlight. "You're lucky to find such useful supplies. I only managed to salvage a ruined tent and ripped off its fabric for rain cover."
"No clues. After the rain, the python's tracks vanished," Eric replied to the first question.
Sister Zhuang expressed approval: "Following the python was wise. The dungeon's challenge lies with the python; our survival will be tied to it as well."
Both eager to track the python for clues, they readily agreed to cooperate.
"Hungry? Here, have this." Sister Zhuang offered a fruit he had gathered. "It's edible, though a bit sour."
"Thank you, Sister Zhuang. Here, take these." Eric returned the favor with wild fruits she had foraged. Sister Zhuang paused, pleased to receive them. "These look sweet."
They ate beneath the tree before braving the rain anew. Sister Zhuang never intended to rest overnight; encountering Eric rather than other male players—and with Eric's flashlight in hand—was a blessing.
Drawing on her forest dungeon experience, Sister Zhuang led their journey through the rainforest. Eric observed quietly, absorbing her survival tactics.
Fortune favored Sister Zhuang—for after their split, the python did not pursue her. Yet knowing Eric had been chased, she hastened to ask, "How did you manage to escape?"
After hearing Eric's tale, Sister Zhuang resolved to cover herself in mud should she next encounter a swamp.
Before reaching such terrain again, however, the python found them.
A rainy night offered the best concealment, yet when Eric spotted the python, it was already too late.
The incident occurred as Eric waited under another tree for Sister Zhuang to finish relieving herself.
"I'm done. Do you need to go?" Sister Zhuang asked softly.
"No, I don't." Eric turned to watch her approach.
Only three meters separated them—three meters—and in that fleeting moment, Eric beheld a scene that seared her eyes with horror.
A massive snake head emerged silently from the darkness, its sinuous body coiling. Without a sound, it descended and gently opened its jaws, swallowing Sister Zhuang whole after only a few steps.
So casually, so effortlessly.
Eric was rendered mute; her heart pounded wildly as a flood of terror overwhelmed her. She stiffened, petrified. The snake head tilted, seemingly fixing its gaze upon her; instinctively, she hurled the flashlight away.
The snake's head shifted slowly, eyes locked onto the gleam of the flashlight.
"Hisssss—" The forked tongue flicked continuously as the python's upper body began to move. Its head brushed the flashlight's spot, knocking it into a puddle where mud obscured the beam's glow.
With its quarry lost, the python hissed and withdrew its head, the great bulk curling into the forest like a small hill, coiling tighter and tighter. At last, the blood-red eyes closed slowly.
Eric remained motionless for a long, long while before cautiously retreating to sit upon a root protruding from the earth.
She had succeeded—once more, the swamp's mud had proven invaluable!
To soothe her fraying nerves, Eric retrieved a bucket of mud from her supermarket supplies and patched herself thoroughly, ensuring no exposed skin remained.
When finished, calm returned. Observing the python, she no longer felt such dread; she knew she must accustom herself to its presence, for fear compromised reason and provoked fatal mistakes—she did not wish to perish.
Sleep eluded her throughout the night; her body ached. Yet with dawn, the rain ceased—a welcome reprieve. Slowly savoring a chocolate ball for breakfast, she continued her vigil over the python, resolved to follow it faithfully.
At daybreak, the python's tail twitched before its eyes fluttered open. Raising its head, it stretched languidly before gliding back into the forest's depths.
Without hesitation, Eric pursued.
For yet another full day, Eric trailed the python, during which she encountered another player similarly cloaked in mud, cautiously navigating the jungle. Upon seeing her, he was visibly astonished.
"It's you!"
Eric recalled his name from introductions—Benjamin—and waved, calling out, "Ben!"
The two converged, and Benjamin was elated. "I never thought I'd see another living soul! You've got the swamp mud too, haven't you? Did the crocodiles get you? Damn, they took both my feet—excruciating!"
"I lost a foot in the swamp as well, but I bought a healing kit afterward."
"Ah, that's just how dungeons are. Luck favors some, while others spend points before even clearing the mission." Benjamin then inquired if she'd seen others. Eric, cautious, mentioned encountering Sister Zhuang, who had gone ahead to scout.
Benjamin brightened. "That's good! Let's keep following this python then!"
Traveling with Benjamin, Eric remained vigilant, maintaining a safe distance between them. As dusk fell, the towering rainforest grew dim, yet the python suddenly quickened its pace. Eric's eyes lit up; exchanging a glance with Benjamin, they hastened their steps.
The python vanished, but its fresh trail remained. Eric and Benjamin pressed on.
Suddenly, the view opened up before them. Eric, her weary eyes widening, beheld a vast clearing where a cluster of four-story buildings rose from the earth, encircled by a four-meter-high wall topped with a dilapidated electric fence.
"It must be an abandoned facility. The python went in there!" Benjamin pointed excitedly. "This rainforest holds no clues; the halo must be inside those buildings. It's the dungeon's pattern!"
Eric shared his enthusiasm. "Shall we enter now or wait until tomorrow?"
"I'd go in today. We've got the swamp mud—what's there to fear?" Benjamin urged.
Eric glanced skyward; not a trace of sunlight remained, and darkness had fully descended. She shook her head. "I'd rather wait until tomorrow. We don't know what's inside, and searching for the halo in the dark isn't ideal."
Benjamin, unwilling to venture alone, reluctantly agreed. "Fine, tomorrow it is."
That night, Eric managed only a half-hour of restless sleep.
At dawn, she and Benjamin approached the compound, entering through the python's exclusive passage—a gaping hole in the wall, seemingly smashed open by sheer force.
Their progress was smooth; inside, the python's trail led clearly to an eastern building, its first-floor wall collapsed—likely the serpent's lair.
They decided to avoid the eastern building initially, searching others for the halo.
Splitting up, Eric climbed through a window, landing on thick moss. The walls and ceiling were similarly overgrown, with wild vines creeping in and clusters of mushrooms sprouting in corners.
The rainforest had reclaimed these structures.
Eric explored several rooms, finding no halo but gathering wild mushrooms.
Gradually, she discerned that this compound had once been a research facility. Scattered remnants of abandoned equipment lay everywhere—shattered beakers embedded in moss, sprouting vibrant yet toxic fungi. Rusted machinery peeked through the greenery; Eric prodded them with a stick, unable to discern their purpose.
Having thoroughly searched the building, even ascending to the rooftop, she found no trace of the halo.
Standing atop the roof, she surveyed the dense canopy surrounding her, feeling trapped in the heart of the rainforest, searching for a halo that promised escape.
"Ah! Help!"
A cry for aid shattered the silence. Startled, Eric rushed to the rooftop's edge, peering down.
Benjamin, legs flailing, sprinted from a nearby building, pursued by a writhing mass of snakes!
The serpentine swarm coiled and rolled like a ball of yarn, swiftly engulfing Benjamin. His screams ceased abruptly, and a chill surged from Eric's soles, freezing her limbs.
The snake cluster soon retreated, leaving no trace of Benjamin—utterly obliterated.
Eric stood motionless for an immeasurable time before regaining sensation in her legs. Taking several deep breaths, she descended to continue her search. By midday, she reached the building where Benjamin had met his end. Hesitant to enter, she observed cautiously.
The sound of dripping water echoed faintly.
Before stepping inside, Eric meticulously ensured her freshly applied mud remained intact, covering every inch of her skin. Adjusting her raincoat and pulling the hood snugly over her head, she finally ventured in.
The ground was sodden; each step squeezed water from the mossy carpet. The snake swarm had vanished—not a single serpent remained in sight.
Passing through the damp hall, she arrived at a corridor blocked by numerous concrete bricks, impassable. Looking upward, she saw that the corridor's ceiling had collapsed, with water stains covering the side walls. Vines, soaked by the dripping water, hung heavy with constantly falling droplets that splashed into puddles formed by scattered stones below, producing the faint rustling sound she had heard earlier.
Spotting something amongst the rubble, she prodded with a stick and dislodged a mud-encrusted shoe.
It was Benjamin's shoe.
Eric surmised that accumulated water had caused the ceiling to buckle and collapse; Benjamin had likely been investigating nearby when the deluge struck, washing away the mud from his body and revealing his human scent—thus attracting the concealed serpents lurking nearby.
With this notion, Eric dared not examine the building further. She sensed its instability and feared unknown collapses; even her raincoat might not shield her in such an event.
Resolutely withdrawing, she fixed her gaze upon the lone remaining eastern structure and, after several moments to steel herself, approached.
At the entrance, an intense stench of blood assaulted her senses. She avoided the main door, opting instead to climb through a window.
The python's traces were unmistakable. Ignoring the desiccated snake scales littering the floor and the slivers of shed skin peeking from vines on the walls, Eric cautiously navigated through the ruinous remains of a wall, stepped over cracked flooring, and explored the fragmented building until she found a cavernous pit.
The pit hollowed out the ground, a chilling breath rising from its depths. She faintly discerned the shadow of the python below.
Staring down into the abyss, she marveled that such a vast chasm could lie at the building's core without toppling its exterior—indistinguishable from neighboring structures.
A heavy silence permeated the space, eerie in its stillness.
Lost in thought, her eyes fixed relentlessly on the pit. Suddenly, a tremor coursed through her feet, ceasing moments later—perhaps the python shifting beneath her.
How long would it remain there?
Would it linger indefinitely?
Might hunger eventually lure it away?
If she were the last player, and no prey remained outside, would it emerge again?
Ultimately, Eric resolved not to wait further and descended in search of the halo, determined to confirm its presence or depart swiftly to seek it elsewhere.
The pit appeared naturally formed; its walls rugged with recesses and protrusions, enshrouded by resilient vines that offered invaluable holds.
After climbing two meters, she encountered something solid. Shifting vines aside, she uncovered a human skull ensnared beneath the thick foliage. Continuing downward, she encountered numerous human remains interred beneath the dense vines, their presence weighing heavily upon her spirit and heightening her vigilance—periodically checking that her mud coating remained intact, dutifully patching any abrasion.
Step by step, she descended further into total blackness. Yet, nearing the bottom, the python's scales refracted faint light, granting her an ever clearer view of the colossal serpent.
The python coiled like a giant spiral occupying the entire pit, its head nestled protectively amidst the coils, shielding a serpent egg at the center.
Of course, Eric could not yet see the egg itself. The python's presence was overwhelming. Upon reaching the pit's bottom, she sought a foothold—struggling to find a spot to stand on one foot, leaning heavily against the pit wall for balance.
Assuming this awkward stance, she surveyed the pit's interior. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, but all she perceived was the immense body of the python, obscuring any sign of the halo.
The halo's luminescence was unmistakable, radiating an inescapable glow wherever it appeared.
Since the python filled the entire pit, any halo present would surely be concealed.
She had to devise a way to lure the python out.
Finding no clues at the bottom, Eric reluctantly retreated.
Her hands ached painfully after the ascent; she knew her own skin was bleeding beneath the layered fabrics and plastic sacks that composed her makeshift gloves. Removing them would unleash the scent of blood, likely provoking the python's assault.
Gazing at her heavy gloves, an idea formed.
Two hours later, the python stirred—its head rising swiftly, body sliding upward with fluid grace.
It crept smoothly from the pit toward the source of the metallic tang of blood in the air.
Having set her bait, Eric held her breath at a corner of the compound's wall, watching it depart, awe-struck by the creature's keen and rapid scent detection—no wonder the few players entering this mission had been so swiftly located!
Wasting no time, Eric dashed toward the pit.
Peering downward, she finally beheld the halo—glowing brilliantly in the pit's center.
Ignoring everything else, she immediately began to descend. Halfway down, rustling noises drew her gaze upward—when she saw the serpentine swarm that had killed Benjamin!
They tumbled like balls of yarn, shedding strands as several snakes fell upon her.
With one free hand, she grabbed the serpents from her head and flung them off, yet countless others bit and tore at her, blood flowing freely and staining the air with its scent—terror gripped her fiercely.
Ignoring the serpents, Eric hastened her descent—sliding rather than climbing—her body thudding against the pit walls, pain wrenching her insides, yet the anguish paled before her resolve, and she reached the pit's floor.
The swarm landed after her, surging like a tide intent on engulfing her.
She hurled a chunk of iron shelving to slow their advance and, without looking back, sprinted toward the halo.
The ground trembled violently as debris rained upon her head and shoulders—some fragments blocking her path.
From the corner of her eye, the giant python descended rapidly, jaws ajar, exuding a foul stench, closing the distance between them in an instant!
Amidst paralyzing fear, her mind sharpened; her gaze fixed solely upon the halo ahead.
A powerful gust surged from behind, propelling her to roll through scattered stones and rebar, landing safely within the halo's radiant embrace.
[Player Eric has successfully completed the Ordinary Dungeon: Rainforest Python, earning 4 points.]