王磊 sitting on the ground kept massaging his calf, the stinging pain from the self-inflicted wound slowly subsiding. The poison had indeed vanished, but the lingering pain felt like searing embers deep in his bones, a constant reminder that something was terribly wrong.

He looked around the dense forest, the wind whistling through the canopy like whispers of the dead. The shadows stretched long and eerie, distorting the trees into grotesque shapes that seemed to move on their own.

"Damn it," muttered Wang Lei, clutching his throat. The pain was already easing, but the burning sensation at the back of his throat was a different story. It felt like a tiny flame was slowly consuming his insides.

He had chased after a fleeting glimmer of hope – a rare herb rumored to be hidden deep within this cursed forest. The forest itself was a labyrinth of illusions, and he had been wandering for days, driven by desperation. Now, the poison had taken effect, and the herb was still beyond his reach.