Chapter 2: Forest Expedition


    As the saying goes, when it rains, it pours. Han Ming didn’t have a house, but he was unlucky enough to encounter a heavy rain.


    After stumbling into the strange forest, before he could even take the time to admire the peculiar plants, he was caught in a downpour. This rain filled Han Ming with panic. First, he knew nothing about this otherworldly realm. He had no idea if the rain here was different from that in the human world. What if it contained something like acid? That would be a disaster. Second, even if the rain wasn’t harmful, catching a cold or fever could be enough to kill him. There were no medicines here, no doctors, not even food. A simple cold could easily take his life. He understood that much.


    Fortunately, the plants here were enormous, and it didn’t take much effort to find a tree hollow. It was a towering tree, and Han Ming only glanced at it briefly before crawling inside. His clothes were already soaked. He had been drenched twice in one day—the first time in the human world by the black rain, though it had partially dried when he was carried by the dragon through the fireball. Thinking back to that intense heat, Han Ming felt a wave of panic. Now he was drenched again, and who knew if he’d catch a cold or fever? All he could do was pray. Thankfully, the temperature inside the tree hollow was warm enough for him to take off his clothes and wring them dry.


    Now wearing only his underwear, Han Ming began to carefully examine the tree hollow. It wasn’t just a hollow—it was more like several rooms combined. Recalling how the tree stretched into the clouds, it wasn’t hard to understand why the hollow was so spacious.


    After wandering around the hollow for a bit, he found nothing particularly special. Han Ming sat near the entrance, hugging his knees and watching the rain pour down outside. The musty smell of the hollow filled his nose, and a mix of emotions washed over him—loneliness, fear, helplessness, and a hint of wonder.


    He didn’t dare fall asleep, glancing back into the hollow every now and then. He remembered the scene from the movie *King Kong* where a log hid giant centipedes. The thought gave him goosebumps. He didn’t want to wake up to some unknown insect biting him. The chances of turning into Spider-Man were slim, but the bite could easily kill him.


    The sky grew darker. His stomach growled again. When would this streak of bad luck end? Han Ming had already made up his mind: as soon as the rain stopped, he’d go out and find something to eat, then return to the place where he first arrived to see if there was any way back to the human world. He had already looked around earlier and saw no sign of a vortex or anything similar. The hope of returning seemed slim, but his strong desire to go home kept him clinging to a sliver of hope.


    After what felt like an eternity, he finally fell asleep. In his dream, he returned to the human world, sharing drinks and laughter with his new dorm mates, chatting about life and watching adult films together. It was so joyful, so full of camaraderie. He even dreamed that a stunningly beautiful woman came to their dorm, and he was the only one left inside. She gently nudged him twice, hinting that he should make a move. Han Ming was eager, but he couldn’t control his body—he couldn’t move no matter how hard he tried. The woman nudged him again, and when he still didn’t respond, she turned and left in anger. Han Ming was filled with regret, desperately trying to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t open. The more he struggled, the more frustrated he became. Finally… he woke up.


    Rubbing his sore eyes, his vision focused on a face—or rather, something resembling a face. It was covered in a black, keratin-like shell. Its head was enormous, with a body about the size of a human child. It stood in front of Han Ming, its large black eyes staring intently at his face. Han Ming finally snapped back to reality and let out a shrill scream, kicking off the ground and scrambling backward. The creature seemed just as startled by Han Ming’s reaction. It turned and ran, tripping over an exposed tree root after a few steps, tumbling to the ground before getting up and disappearing into the forest.


    Han Ming slumped back in the tree hollow, his heart nearly jumping out of his throat. Even though he had seen a dragon, a giant bat, and enormous birds earlier, waking up to find a face—or something resembling one—staring at him was terrifying. It didn’t matter if it was a monster or a person; it would have scared anyone out of their wits. And this thing was downright ugly.


    He quickly glanced around to make sure there were no other strange creatures nearby before calming down. Muttering curses under his breath, it took him a while to recover. What kind of situation was this? It was enough to drive him insane.


    The rain outside had stopped, and his clothes had somehow dried. This place was truly magical. His clothes had dried on their own inside the tree hollow. Han Ming then noticed that despite the prolonged rain, no water had seeped into the hollow. Curious, he looked closer and saw a ring of black, tar-like substance around the edge of the hollow. No wonder the rain hadn’t flooded in. Did that mean this hollow belonged to the creature from earlier? It didn’t matter now. Finding something to eat was more important. Stretching, he suddenly felt dizzy and nearly collapsed, quickly steadying himself against the tree trunk. After a moment, he regained his balance. Rubbing his sore thighs, he stepped out of the hollow.


    In this strange, unfamiliar forest, Han Ming treaded carefully, taking a few steps at a time and constantly scanning his surroundings for any sudden attacks from bizarre creatures. After walking like this for about half an hour without encountering anything unusual, his courage gradually returned, and he resumed a normal pace. That’s when he realized a serious problem: he had no idea what was edible and what wasn’t. Every plant here was completely foreign to him. Earlier, he had spotted a few brightly colored objects that looked like fruit, but he didn’t dare try them. The brighter something was, the more likely it was poisonous. After wandering around for a while without finding anything useful, his stomach growled even louder. The sky was slowly darkening.


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    It seemed he’d have to wait until tomorrow. Fortunately, he had left markers along the way—small stones to guide him back—and many of the plants here glowed, so he wouldn’t lose his way. Just as he was about to head back to the hollow in frustration, the bushes nearby rustled, and a beast the size of a wolf dog leaped out. Its fur stood on end, and it bared its teeth, growling menacingly at Han Ming. Han Ming screamed, “Oh my god!” and fell backward onto the ground. This creature looked far more ferocious than any dog. Before he could react, the beast pounced.


    Han Ming watched the beast lunging toward him and sighed inwardly. It seemed this was where his journey would end.


    Just as he was preparing to meet his end in this otherworldly realm, a stick suddenly jabbed the beast mid-air, sending it flying. Not a swing—a jab. The beast yelped as it was flung sideways, crashing into a tree trunk. The stench of the beast’s breath lingered in front of Han Ming, making him nauseous.


    Turning his head, Han Ming nearly dropped his jaw at what he saw. It was the big-headed creature from earlier, now holding a wooden stick and gesturing threateningly at the beast.


    Had this thing just saved him?


    The beast rolled on the ground a few times before getting back up and charging at the big-headed creature with a snarl. This time, the big-head couldn’t dodge in time and was bitten on the neck. Han Ming’s heart sank. Was this creature going to die here?


    But the expected outcome didn’t happen. The beast’s teeth couldn’t penetrate the big-head’s keratin-like neck covering. The two wrestled, with the big-head occasionally kicking the beast or hitting it with the stick. The struggle dragged on, neither gaining the upper hand, thanks to the big-head’s tough exterior.


    Han Ming finally snapped out of his daze and grabbed a stick from nearby. “Damn it!” he thought. If the big-head died, he was done for. After being dragged to this godforsaken place, he had a lot of pent-up frustration, and this beast was going to bear the brunt of it.


    Summoning all his strength, he swung the stick with all his might—only to hit the big-head’s head by mistake. Han Ming froze. What a blunder. He quickly apologized, not caring if the big-head understood, and swung again, this time hitting the beast’s head. The beast rolled away and lunged at Han Ming.


    Now furious, Han Ming swung the stick again, but human strength had its limits. The blow only knocked the beast’s head to the side. At the same time, the big-head’s stick came down, jabbing the beast and sending it flying once more.


    The beast seemed determined to fight to the death. It got up and charged at the big-head again, using its only tactic: pouncing and biting. This time, the big-head aimed its stick straight into the beast’s mouth, the end piercing through the back of its skull. The beast fell to the ground, twitched a few times, and finally went still.


    Fighting a beast was a first for Han Ming. He gasped for breath, his body trembling slightly from the adrenaline. The big-head dragged the beast by one leg, glanced at Han Ming, shook its large head, and started walking away. Han Ming understood—the big-head wanted him to follow. Since it had just saved him, it probably didn’t mean him any harm. Out of curiosity, he followed the big-head back to the tree hollow. It seemed this was indeed the creature’s home.


    The big-head dropped the beast at the entrance, sat down unsteadily, and immediately bit into one of its legs. It tore off a mouthful of fur, spat it out, and bit again until it reached the meat. Blood dripped from its mouth as it chewed. Seeing Han Ming staring in shock, the big-head pushed the beast toward him, muttering something and gesturing for Han Ming to eat as well.


    This piqued Han Ming’s interest—not because he wanted to eat raw meat (he wasn’t used to that), but because the big-headed creature had just spoken. He couldn’t understand a word, but it seemed this ugly creature had a kind heart.


    However, Han Ming had no intention of eating raw meat. Just the sight of it made him nauseous, but his stomach was growling fiercely. He rummaged through his pockets and, to his surprise, pulled out a lighter and a pack of soggy cigarettes. Han Ming laughed aloud. This was fate! He had been smoking in the bathroom when the dragon appeared, and through all the chaos, he hadn’t lost these two items. The cigarettes were ruined, but the lighter was still functional.


    The big-head was startled by Han Ming’s laughter and quickly retreated a few steps. Seeing that Han Ming wasn’t paying attention, it watched curiously as he fiddled with something. A moment later, a small flame flickered to life. The big-head was terrified. It let out two strange cries and fled into the hollow, refusing to come out.


    Han Ming tried calling it a few times, but when it refused to emerge, he gave up. He was starving. He gathered some dry grass from under the strange plants and piled it up. But looking at the beast’s furry body, he realized another problem: he had no knife. Even if he did, he doubted he had the strength to skin the beast. He tugged at the fur for a while but made no progress. Seeing the big-head peeking out curiously, he had an idea. After some gesturing, he stepped aside. The big-head cautiously approached, eyeing Han Ming warily, and began tearing at the beast with its mouth.


    Han Ming grinned. It seemed the big-head understood. After a while, the beast’s fur was completely torn off. The big-head then scurried back into the hollow.


    Han Ming struggled to skewer the beast with a stick, creating a makeshift roasting spit. It looked easy in movies, but he hadn’t expected it to be so difficult. Just lifting the beast was exhausting. But he managed to set up a crude roasting rack. He piled the dry grass, lit it with the lighter, and a crackling fire burst to life, flames shooting into the air. Han Ming jumped back in surprise. These plants burned fiercely! He scooped out some of the grass to control the flame’s height and began roasting the meat. Meanwhile, the big-head was cowering in the hollow, trembling.


    Han Ming shook his head helplessly and focused on the task at hand. The beast’s meat sizzled over the fire, fat dripping and filling the air with a tantalizing aroma. His stomach growled again.


    Hours later, Han Ming looked awkwardly at his handiwork. In the middle of roasting, he realized the beast hadn’t been bled or gutted. He had to drag it back into the hollow and have the big-head bite off its limbs. After all that effort, he finally managed to roast the four legs to a somewhat edible state.


    Han Ming couldn’t wait any longer. He took a bite and immediately grimaced. This was, without a doubt, the worst roast he had ever eaten. It had no seasoning, and some parts were raw while others were burnt. His cooking skills were clearly lacking, though it smelled decent.


    He handed a roasted hind leg to the big-head. At first, the creature hesitated, but after sniffing the meat a few times, it grabbed the leg and began devouring it. Han Ming chuckled and did the same. At least he had some meat to eat.