Super Zoo

Suming used alcohol to disinfect the Wild Man's wound and then applied Yunnan Baiyao and gauze for a simplified dressing, which barely managed to stop the bleeding.

It was less that the bleeding was stopped, and more that the Wild Man's blood was almost drained. With three bullets, three holes, in his shoulder, and behind his thigh and buttocks, he received no timely medical treatment after being shot and had just been lying on the ground. During the fight between Suming and He, the Wild Man even managed to contribute a few moves, ultimately killing Mr. Qian.

By the time everything settled, nearly ten minutes had passed. For an ordinary person, with three large bullet wounds, they would have bled out long ago. It was only because the Wild Man's physical condition was so astonishingly robust that he was still alive.

It was also a stroke of luck—it was probably because of the excessive bleeding that the anesthetic didn't work. The Wild Man was pale but still somewhat conscious and hadn't fainted. If he had fallen unconscious with such severe wounds, not even a deity could save him.

"Hang on, I'll carry you down the mountain to find a doctor!" Suming said, sweating profusely with urgency. There was a long way to go to get out of the mountains, and carrying the Wild Man would slow him down even more. Even if he managed to carry him out, the Wild Man likely wouldn't survive that long and would die halfway.

There was no other choice, they had to treat the situation like a dying horse on its last legs. Although the Wild Man could sense spiritual power, he was not a pure beast, and the healing effects of the spiritual power were not as evident on him as they were on other animals—especially since his wounds were too severe and he was nearly bled to death.

People do what they can and leave the rest to fate—it was up to the Wild Man's own destiny now.

Just as Suming bent down to hoist the Wild Man onto his back, the Wild Man waved a large, fur-covered hand and then struggled to turn over, crawling towards the direction of the pond.

"Hm? Could it be that the Wild Man has a tradition of water burial? Is he going to the pond to wait for death?" Suming was startled.

The Wild Man crawled on the ground, leaving a trail of blood behind. Before he even reached the shore, he ran out of energy and lay on the ground, gasping for air and tilting his head to stare toward the waterfall.

Suming suddenly realized, dismissing the thought of a water burial. This guy was trying to crawl back to the cave behind the waterfall. That cave with signs of habitation was likely his 'home'!

"Hold on, hold on! I'll take you inside!"

Suming tested with his spiritual power and his guess was indeed correct. The Wild Man had a strong desire to return to the cave. Suming didn't know exactly why he wanted to go back, but there was no time to discuss it now. He quickly went over, grabbed the Wild Man's arm, exerted himself to lift the huge body on his back.

As the saying goes, "dead weight," which implies heaviness, certainly applies when someone has passed away. Though not dead, the Wild Man was close to it and already heavy due to his two-meter stature. Suming stumbled, nearly collapsing under the Wild Man's weight.

The Wild Man also groaned in pain.

Fortunately, the waterfall wasn't far. Suming gritted his teeth, carried the Wild Man to the edge of the pond, placed him on a small inflatable boat, and then jumped in himself, paddling towards the waterfall. It took a Herculean effort to carry the Wild Man to the recess behind the waterfall and drag him through the cave entrance into the interior.

The Wild Man's breath grew weaker, and his consciousness started to fade. The feedback from spiritual power was muddled; his body occasionally convulsing, he seemed on the brink of death!

"Hey, hey, hey, don't you die! Hey!" Suming was desperate, slapping the Wild Man's face with a crack. He meant to just pat his face, but in his urgency, he struck too hard, turning it into a slap, echoing crisply through the cave.

Spiritual power was poured into the Wild Man like it was free, hoping to stimulate him back to life.

Luckily, it worked. After being slapped twice, the Wild Man's cloudy eyes brightened slightly, and he made a "ugh" sound from his throat, regaining some awareness.

After surveying his surroundings, the wild man twitched his nose twice, tilted his head, and extended his tongue like a large dog, licking the damp spots on the cave floor.

Suming thought he was thirsty from heavy blood loss and hurriedly took down the military canteen from his waist to feed the wild man.

The wild man sniffed the opening of the canteen but didn't drink the pure water inside, instead continuing to lick the dampness on the ground.

Suming, faced with the wild man's picky behavior, simply emptied the water from the canteen, stood up, and looked around.

In fact, the cave was located beneath a waterfall and river, its floor was stony, with water constantly seeping down from inside the cave and its ceiling. These drippings, accumulating over time, formed trickling streams that gathered in the uneven ground, creating puddles of various sizes. Suming found a basin-sized puddle, filled the canteen halfway with water from it, and handed it back to the wild man.

After a brief sniff, the wild man nodded heavily and made "uh-uh-uh" sounds from his throat, opened his mouth wide, and, holding the canteen, began to guzzle the water with gusto.

Having drunk the water in the canteen, the wild man seemed revitalized, like an injection of a cardiac stimulant had been administered. His gaze cleared, and he even propped himself up with one hand and sat up on the ground, panting heavily.

Suming, surprised by the scene, hurriedly scanned him with his spiritual power and found that the wild man's vitality had clearly increased.

He quickly filled another half canteen with water, then assisted the wild man as they slowly walked back to the largest den, which evidently was the wild man's home. Upon entering, the wild man collapsed onto a pile of dry grass, gasping for air.

Through all these exertions, the wild man's gunshot wound burst open again, the gauze turning blood-red as blood continuously seeped from the wound.

Suming frowned slightly and after a moment's thought, pulled out a Swiss Army knife and a lighter from his pocket. Imitating what he had seen on television, he disinfected the blade by repeatedly running it through the flame.

Extracting a bullet is a skillful job, requiring an incision to be made in the flesh over the wound, then forcibly removing the bullet. During this process, the patient not only experiences excruciating pain, but it is also extremely dangerous. A slight mistake could damage tendons, resulting in permanent disability, and if the bullet had penetrated bone, it would be even more troublesome.

Moreover, opening up the wound could lead to significant blood loss and possibly death.

Of course, Suming didn't possess such skills, let alone practical experience, but now he was left with no choice but to take a gamble on luck and extract the bullet by force. Any further delay and the wound might become infected and fester, putting the wild man's life in grave jeopardy.

Suming looked at the wild man and said very seriously, using both spiritual power and human language, "I am going to extract the bullet! It will hurt a lot... "

The wild man, with wide eyes, seemed to understand Suming's intention, made "uh-uh" sounds from his throat, and then nodded.

Suming, holding the searing hot knife, gestured over the wound on the wild man's leg, pondering where to make the incision.

"I'm doing this to save you, you better not hit me!"

After saying this, Suming cut down fiercely with the knife.