Buzz—
In the gray-white desert, the light of a lantern once again appeared from the sunken pit.
Two figures emerged from the light, of course, they were Germain and Menchi.
Menchi let go of the messenger ghost's hand, stood up, and first greeted Bisky and Shizuku. Then, she looked up, curiously scanning her surroundings.
Whether it was the "Labyrinth" or the "Wilderness," this was her first time here, so her curiosity was perfectly natural.
Germain took back the teleportation lantern, then saw Bisky approach and ask, "Two teleports, back and forth. What did you get this time?"
"Two 'negative traits,' no 'disease.'" Germain answered honestly. "One is 'Thanatophobia' (fear of death), and the other is 'Perfectionism.'"
"'Perfectionism' is fine. It increases my pressure by 5 points every time I make a mistake."
"But, I have the 'Champion Aura.' Every time, it reduces 7 points of pressure, so 'Perfectionism' has no negative effect on me."
"'Thanatophobia' is more troublesome."
"When I take heavy damage, or in game terms, when my 'HP drops below 50%,' all events that can increase my pressure will affect me more, meaning the percentage of pressure I bear will increase."
Bisky couldn't help but nervously bite his finger.
"This is troublesome, but luckily 'Thanatophobia' is conditional."
"You need to be careful. Once you take heavy damage, don't overthink it. Just use 'Breath of the Archangel.'"
In this team, only Germain and Menchi could use "Breath of the Archangel." Everyone else had already used it once and couldn't use it again.
Germain shook his head. "I'm not fragile porcelain that shatters at the slightest touch."
"You definitely aren't," Bisky said seriously, "But your importance is obvious."
"Honestly, any one of us could die, but not you."
"Once you're dead, the chain reaction could lead to the destruction of our entire team. As long as you're alive, there's a chance we can bring back survivors."
"I understand." Germain didn't respond much. He turned his head and looked around the gray-white pit, asking, "Where's Ging?"
"He's outside, conducting reconnaissance with a 300-meter radius centered on the pit. He won't go too far," Bisky answered.
"Then let's go up too," Germain suggested.
Bisky, Shizuku, and Menchi all nodded. The group started climbing up the stone walls of the gray-white pit.
The rock layers were quite smooth. For an ordinary person, it might be difficult to climb without tools, but for a Nen user, it was like walking on flat ground.
The four of them left the gray-white pit, but they hadn't escaped the gray-white world. Everywhere they looked, there was drifting gray dust. The scene felt like a nuclear winter had occurred.
Germain reached up to pull the black mask around his neck, covering the lower half of his face.
He turned around to remind the others but saw that they were ahead of him, already taking out their masks to put them on.
Bisky complained in a muffled voice beneath his mask, "Will these gray-white grains hurt my skin if they scrape my face?"
Menchi was also complaining, but her focus was different, "In a place like this, there's definitely no chance of finding ingredients for cooking. Unless you want to eat dirt."
"Do you want me to use my 'Blinky' to suck up the dust and clear the way?" Shizuku raised her hands and made a gripping gesture.
Germain shook his head, "Your 'Blinky' is 'first in, last out.' Don't put unnecessary things in, or it will slow down the process of taking out the suitcase."
The "suitcase" here refers to the silver suitcase filled with a new batch of "resource cards." Once the cards are unsealed, they can be used.
"Okay." Shizuku had no intention of arguing.
Wooo—wooo—wooo—
At that moment, a fierce wind, howling like a ghostly scream, blew toward them. It lifted more grayish-white sand and gravel, making the entire wasteland look even more desolate.
The raised stone mountains, stone pillars, and stone bridges were all gray-white. The sandstorm roared like an unpredictable beast, smashing against them and breaking them into pieces.
Boom, boom, boom—
Wooo—wooo—wooo—
The wind grew more violent. The group had no choice but to unseal their cards and put on goggles, just so they could barely make out the faces of the others.
They put on coats and hoods—Germain tucked away his triangle hat, then tightened his zipper, looking like a survivor in a blizzard trying to survive.
As the howling wind turned into a rumbling sound, they had to shout loudly to talk, though even then, the other person might not hear clearly.
Fortunately, they had prepared for this situation. These coats were designed by Dwun, List, and the others, with communication devices installed.
By pressing a button on the collar, they could talk to everyone through the built-in microphones, all on the same channel.
However, even with the communication device, the storm still caused noise, and the rustling sounds interfered with the quality of the conversation.
In the end, Germain used the simplest method—he gestured for the others to follow him. His "En" had sensed Ging's location, and it was better to gather first.
The other three, even the slowest Shizuku, understood the gesture.
They nodded and gathered together, struggling to move forward in the sudden gray and white sandstorm.
No wonder Beyond's team strayed from their original route on the way back.
They most likely encountered a sandstorm like this, with visibility barely two or three meters, surrounded by a world of gray and white that seemed endless.
For humans, not seeing any color other than gray and white for a long time is even more terrifying than being colorblind.
This situation wasn't just torture—it was worse than torture, to the point that most of Beyond's team members developed severe psychological issues. Naturally, they started making wrong judgments.
After walking for a while, their bodies were covered in sand and dust, making them look as if they were covered in snow.
Even though they kept shaking it off, as the storm intensified, the sand kept pouring in like a swarm of locusts.
But as long as they kept moving, there was an advantage.
In such harsh conditions, staying still in an open place without shelter meant they would be swallowed up entirely by the gray and white dust.
After walking a bit more, a figure appeared ahead, also wearing a thick coat and a hood. He waved at them.
"It's me... shh... Ging..." The voice of Ging, mixed with static, came from the hoods of Germain and the other three. "The storm suddenly hit... shh... it's really troublesome..."
He stepped cautiously through the gray-white sand, making his way over.
Even though he wore goggles and a mask, it was still possible to make out Ging's weathered face.
Germain pressed the button on his collar, lowered his head, and said loudly, "Let's find some shelter, wait out this sandstorm, and then continue moving."
He didn't know how much of his words the others could hear on the same frequency, but soon someone replied—it was Ging.
"Then follow me... shh... I just passed by a... shh... large rock blocking the wind direction... We can take cover behind it..."
Ging turned and pointed in a direction.
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