“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!”
The gale lashed Xiao Yi's face like a barbed whip, stinging him with every blow.
“Damn it! Why won't this piece-of-junk parachute open?!”
Thousands of meters in the air, Xiao Yi fumbled desperately with the parachute cords, cursing the program crew and their ancestors to the eighteenth generation. He was a washed-up adventure streamer, but for a five-million-dollar prize, he was willing to risk his life. Still, was the crew of Global Deserted Island Survival really serious? They'd given him a faulty parachute from the start?
At long last, there was a muffled bang and the reserve chute opened. The tremendous force nearly made Xiao Yi throw up his breakfast.
Before he could catch his breath, the black-green swamp below rushed toward him faster than anything he'd ever seen.
“Splash!”
A loud crash, and mud flew everywhere.
