Chapter 103: Saved

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Li Cu woke up.

The pain kept him from falling back asleep, while the dryness in his throat and the salty taste at the corner of his mouth made it difficult to breathe. He touched it with his hand and found that he was covered in blood.

It appeared he had puked up more blood in his sleep. He didn't know whether that was a good or a bad thing, nor was he sure if spitting the blood out meant there wouldn't be any blockage in the body.

He moved his hands and feet, and found that the previous feeling of being unable to use any strength because of the severe pain had disappeared. The pain was still the same, but it seemed like he could bear with it as long as he grit his teeth.

He didn't have any feeling in his knee, but there was definitely a sharp pain when he moved it more than an inch. He tore open his pants and saw that his leg was as swollen as a radish, and some of the wounds had become terrible scabs.

It was black and blue, of course, but under the green light, the bruises from the wound seemed to cover his whole leg.

It might not be too bad to just cut it off directly.

"I'm done. I can't play striker anymore. Do the Paralympic Games even have any soccer events?" He lamented.

He looked up at the rope hanging from the plant root and felt that it should be fine to climb.

Alright, Bear Grylls explained on his show how to use simple equipment to slowly climb ropes.

Li Cu pulled out the carabiner hook from his backpack, grabbed the rope, gave a loud roar, and tried to pull himself up.

The rope didn't move.

He strained for a long time before eventually relaxing.

In addition to the pain coursing through his whole body, there wasn't even a hint of his ass falling. In other words, he hadn't lifted himself at all.

He lay down on his back in frustration. Did it not work? Was there any way he could climb without using any leg strength?

He sat up and continued gazing upwards, wondering what to do.

After thinking for more than ten minutes, he lay down again and fell back asleep.

He slept longer this time, but when he woke up, his head felt much heavier.

His beard had grown out, his fingernails were longer, and his body's metabolism was vigorous. He braced himself up again and felt much better.

There was no improvement in his leg, many parts of his chest felt strange, and his breathing was labored, but it was still better than before.

He ate something and felt as if his head wasn't as stuffy. His wounded leg gave off a strange smell and seemed to be going through necrosis. He poked at the swollen and bruised part with his finger, and was a little relieved when he still felt a sharp pain.

He decided to try again, pulling hard on the rope for support. After a few attempts this time, his butt finally made it half a meter off the ground. He supported himself with his uninjured leg and finally stood up.

Drenched in a cold sweat, he wrapped the rope around his arm until he was sure he wouldn't faint. He gasped for a long time before he recovered, feeling that there was no way he could climb any higher.

He leaned against the rope, resting there in a daze before soon falling asleep again. He tried resisting this strange drowsiness, but his body really needed to rest. The rope hanging from his arm slowly loosened, and he slid against it back onto the beach.

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