What Chen Mo saw before him was no longer the stables or the military camp. The rows of barracks had long since vanished, and all that remained in his vision was an expanse of thick gray mist.
Chen Mo became alert, his instincts kicking in. He reached behind him, and the haystack was still there, a comforting presence.
But the situation didn't make sense. Even if he had undergone the transformation, he hadn't expected such a sudden shift. How could a thick fog appear out of nowhere without any warning? It didn't make sense.
Everything around him was obscured by the gray mist. He couldn't see a single thing besides the fog and the haystack behind him. Even the stable, which should have been right beside him, had vanished.
He had seen fog before, but never this kind of fog. It wasn't just thick, it was gray. What kind of fog was this?
Chen Mo extended his hand, waving it in front of him. The mist shifted slightly due to his movements, but most of it remained unchanged, as if unaffected.
He didn't dare call out into the fog. The military camp was strict about curfew. Going outside after curfew or shouting aloud were serious offenses. If discovered, one could expect a severe beating—at least eighty lashes with a military stick. If no one intervened to offer a bribe, the punishment could very well result in a death sentence.
He held onto the haystack and reached out with his other hand, feeling around for the stable where the horses should have been. But there was nothing. Only the gray fog, cold and empty.
Chen Mo took a couple of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. He pinched himself hard, feeling the sharp pain shoot through his body. It was clear and distinct, confirming that he wasn't dreaming or imagining this.
He couldn't make sense of what was happening. Had he gone insane after being reborn? That was impossible. He had to figure this out.
Swallowing hard, Chen Mo pulled out some hay from the stack and quickly began twisting it together. Within moments, he had formed a thin, two-meter-long straw rope. It wasn't much, but it would serve its purpose.
He still couldn't understand what the gray mist was. Was it so dense that it was blocking out the world, or was something else happening? If the haystack hadn't been here to anchor him, he might have believed that he had somehow traveled to another world. After all, if one time-travel could happen, then why not another?
He tied one end of the rope around the haystack, holding the other end tightly in his hand, and cautiously began walking forward.
If he hadn't been able to reach the stable earlier due to the short distance, surely now, with the rope, he would be able to find it. But he walked. And walked. He couldn't see the haystack anymore, but the rope remained taut. There was still no sign of anything. No stable, no landmarks—nothing but endless gray fog.
Up, down, left, right—there was nothing. No sense of direction. No sound. The only thing that seemed to exist was the fog, a suffocating, oppressive gray.
Even the ground beneath his feet felt strange. It was flat and smooth, almost like fine-tempered steel. He couldn't touch any soil or dirt, despite stepping on the ground.
He walked around the haystack several more times, desperate to find some clue, some sign of the camp or the stable. But still, there was nothing.
Could it be that the camp was still there, but he and the haystack had somehow entered a different space—some kind of fog world? No matter how he looked at it, the situation didn't make sense.
Chen Mo began to panic slightly. He had to find a way out of this. The fog made everything so disorienting that he wasn't sure how much longer he could last in this strange place. If he couldn't find his way out, he might have to resort to eating hay just to survive.
A sudden, blood-curdling scream shattered the silence. It sounded like an animal—sharp, hoarse, and eerie. The kind of sound that made teeth ache from just hearing it, as though two pieces of rough iron were scraping together.
Chen Mo's heart skipped a beat as he turned toward the source of the sound. What he saw was enough to freeze his blood.
A grotesque, hunched figure appeared from the fog. It was a humanoid creature, no more than three feet tall, with a mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth. Its body was thin and frail, but there was something wrong with it—something unsettling.
It looked like a monkey, but its skin was not the usual fur-covered kind. The creature's skin appeared to have been peeled off, leaving only raw, exposed red muscles, dripping with blood. It looked like something that had been skinned alive, and the sight of it made Chen Mo's scalp tingle with disgust.
"Roar!" The blood monkey screamed again, its pale white eyes rolling in its skull as it stared at Chen Mo.
Chen Mo's instincts told him to retreat, but his feet felt frozen in place. The blood monkey was too strange, too terrifying. He didn't want to engage with it unless absolutely necessary.
But the creature wasn't done. It twisted its head around and then suddenly lunged toward Chen Mo.
The blood monkey moved faster than expected. It was like a gust of wind, a red streak flashing through the fog. And with that speed came an overwhelming stench—rotting flesh and decay.
Chen Mo raised his fists instinctively to block the blow, but the monkey's strength was terrifying. Even after being reborn and enhanced, he could barely keep up with the creature's strength. It was as if his physical body wasn't enough.
"Woo!" The blood monkey roared again, its attack failing, but it didn't stop. It quickly retreated, only to circle around and prepare for another strike.
Chen Mo's arms were trembling. The creature was no ordinary beast. It was as strong as iron. He could feel his own strength waning. If this continued, he would be killed. There was no doubt about it.
The blood monkey was smart. It seemed to sense Chen Mo's weaknesses, constantly circling him, looking for an opening. Its eyes glowed with an almost malevolent intelligence.
Chen Mo gritted his teeth. Despite all the hardships he had endured since joining the military camp, he had finally found a moment of stability in his life. Yet now, here he was, facing this creature in a world that didn't make any sense.
If only he had thought ahead to carry a weapon. If he had even a small dagger, he could have at least defended himself.
But now, with only his bare hands, facing this monster, things seemed grim.
The blood monkey let out another screech, twisting its back at an unnatural angle before launching itself at Chen Mo's lower body.
Chen Mo didn't dodge. Instead, he gathered all his strength and kicked forward, his left leg numbing from the impact. The kick was enough to push the monkey back, but it wasn't enough to stop it.
The blood monkey wrapped its arms around his legs, exposing its bloody fangs, ready to bite.
Without thinking, Chen Mo dropped to his knees, using his weight to pin the creature down, pressing his knees into its chest and abdomen. The monkey howled in fury, but Chen Mo wasn't done. He grabbed the monkey's head with one hand, pressing it down, while using his other fist to hammer away at the creature's neck.
But the blood monkey's body was like steel. It took several more punches—seven, eight, maybe more—before the creature stopped moving. With each punch, Chen Mo's fingers began to bleed, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the monkey went limp, its body heavy and lifeless.
Chen Mo collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. He looked at the creature's body. It had been a brutal fight, but it was over.
To his surprise, the blood monkey's body began to disintegrate before his eyes, its form dissolving like smoke in the wind. In moments, there was nothing left but a small red bloodstone, the size of a baby's fist. Its surface was rough, covered in grooves.
End