Chapter 379: Chapter 224: Oppression of the Dark Forest (Part 3)

This pile of strongly scented entrails will become a higher priority target, attracting some of the predators’ attention, buying him precious time and safety for his retreat.

This abandonment is entirely worthwhile; he no longer needs to use entrails to make bait for fishing, as the protein he has stored is enough to last him until the end of the challenge.

In a short span of less than fifteen minutes, the weight of this porcupine has been reduced by at least a third.

Now, he needs to take the remaining, still thorny "spiked body" back with him.

Carrying it directly on his back is impossible; those spikes would teach him a lesson. Dragging it also requires solving the friction and potential danger caused by the spikes.

He stands up, looks around, and the beam of his headlamp sweeps through the dark forest, finally settling on a few tall, silver-white birch trees not far away.

He quickly walks over, takes the short-handled logging axe from the side of his backpack, and chooses a young birch tree about the thickness of a wrist.

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

Facing the camera, he adjusts his breathing while explaining his choice, "I need a lot of birch bark to wrap this porcupine."

"Of course, I could strip bark directly from those big trees, but that would be too inefficient, and it’s hard to get the whole piece of bark I need from one tree."

"More importantly, if I strip a circle of bark around the trunk, that big tree wouldn’t survive either. So it’s better to only sacrifice one birch tree."

"This way, I can easily obtain all the bark I need. In the wilderness, every energy expenditure must bring maximum resource return. This is efficiency."

The crisp and powerful sound of chopping echoes in the silent forest. With less than ten strikes, accompanied by a cracking sound, the small tree falls, stirring up a spray of snow.

Dragging the fallen tree to a clearing, he deftly trims off the branches with his axe, then uses the tip of his knife to make several vertical cuts on it.

Effortlessly, he peels off sheets of the bark, as flexible as parchment, in one whole piece. The whole process flows smoothly, several times faster than working on a standing tree.

Lin Yu’an returns to the porcupine carcass, the severe cold has already begun to stiffen the body, signaling the need to race against time.

Without superfluous movements, he directly uses a section of parachute cord to roughly secure the porcupine’s limbs.

Then, with several thick layers of birch bark, he meticulously wraps the fifteen-kilogram porcupine carcass, layer by layer, until all the spikes are completely covered.

Finally, he binds the entire package tightly with nylon rope, making it resemble a giant mummy.

"Wrapping it like this can completely isolate the spikes, forming a solid protective layer, preventing accidental injuries during transportation."

By the time the porcupine carcass wrapped in birch bark is tightly bound into a compact, sturdy cylinder, the sky has already turned pitch-black.

When he completed this task, the sky has become thoroughly dark, the beam of his headlamp only able to cast a pale, weak dot on it.

All sounds in the forest have vanished, this extreme silence is itself a warning.

No more delays are possible; immediate loading for the journey back must commence.

He picks up the birch-wrapped package, both cold and hard, feeling like a giant rock.

Then, he vertically places this heavy cylinder into the main compartment of his backpack, the pack bulging outward.

The return journey begins.

He strides forward with heavy steps, his snowshoes still preventing him from sinking deeply into the snow.

Lin Yu’an doesn’t switch or replace the headlamp, instead adjusting the beam angle higher so that the center of the light extends from beneath his feet to ten meters ahead, illuminating his path forward.

No longer is there the need for constant silence, bending over to search for traces with caution and slowness; his only goal now is to return to the shelter as fast as possible.

The night forest is a world entirely different from the day.

The cold is no longer merely low temperature, but a constant, pervasive energy drain.

The trees around, in the swaying light from his headlamp, cast various distorted, elongated shadows, swinging violently with the light, full of dynamic oppression.

In the dead silence, occasionally the sound of snow snapping branches far away can be heard, sounding particularly abrupt in the open forest.

Lin Yu’an has walked for so long that he feels his thigh muscles no longer ache but burn.

Each step is as if pulling out from a mire, heavy, and his lungs, from continuously and intensely inhaling the cold, dry air, begin to sting with a peppery pain.

Finally, when he feels his body is nearing the breaking point, he struggles through the last dense patch of spruce Forest.

His eyes open wide!

At the end of the headlamp’s beam, he sees the familiar figure of the large mushroom seemingly growing naturally from the snow.

That is the snow igloo smokehouse he built himself, used for smoking fish and meat.

And not far from the smokehouse, the vent of the semi-dugout shelter emits a faint warm yellow glow.

That is the firelight from the fireplace, reflecting through the chimney’s gaps, creating a scene amidst the snow. But to him, it is safety, warmth, and the endpoint where he can lay down all burdens.

He has finally reached home without incident.

A wave of fatigue from the long pursuit clashed with a sense of relief, fiercely intertwining within him.

These two utterly opposite feelings finally weave into a strange physiological response, nearly overwhelming his entire body.

But his heavy footsteps do not pause for a moment, marching steadily towards that light for the final few dozen meters.

Finally, he stands beside the snow igloo smokehouse he built with his own hands.