She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 654: The Poisoned Vulture Just last night, a frosty spell had descended upon the woods, dispelling the lingering miasma that haunted the place throughout the year. The improved visibility was both a blessing and a curse.

On the positive side, with the miasma lifted and the slower air currents of winter, she would be able to endure staying here for a longer period. However, the unfortunate consequence was that she could now clearly see everything within this forest.

Sometimes, seeing too clearly was also a misfortune.

It was no wonder that this patch of woodland was known as the "Dead Forest." An eerie atmosphere perpetually hung over it, accompanied by the circling of crows or vultures overhead. Even the occasional wild rabbit that darted out from the woods had its belly torn open, revealing human bones within.

Just as she mentioned vultures, a massive bald-headed vulture flew overhead, its wingspan of over a meter stirring up a foul and cold wind that rustled the leaves.

In this silent forest, the vulture's screech, the rustling of the leaves, and the chilling wind merged together, sending shivers down her spine even in broad daylight.

Cheyenne had no choice but to quicken her pace, following the direction the vulture was headed, running as she went. Vultures usually fed on corpses, so the presence of a vulture overhead meant that there must be a fresh corpse nearby.

She couldn't help but admit that she was dressed too heavily, running as if she were dragging a 360-pound ball around. It didn't take long for the little one in her belly to protest.

It kicked her.

"Ouch!" It kicked too hard, and the pain made Cheyenne's face contort in agony. She had to stop her steps, gasping for breath, rubbing her plump belly with one hand. Irritated, she muttered, "Why are you so delicate? I just warmed up... you're so lazy, you must be a little princess." The baby stopped fussing after her "lesson." Her belly felt much better, and Cheyenne didn't dare to continue running. She resumed walking steadily towards her destination.

After about five to six minutes, she finally caught sight of the vulture she had been following by a small stream. A man dressed in a black robe lay dead by the water's edge. Judging from his short hair and build, she could preliminarily determine he was a man.

As for whether he was handsor not, she couldn't tell because the vulture had pecked at his face, leaving it bloodied, and one of his eyeballs had fallen to the ground.

His internal organs had been devoured, leaving only an empty shell of flesh and blood. Even with no movement, the nauseating stench of blood irritated Cheyenne's stomach. It was too disgusting.

She regretted following this giant bird to this cursed place. She covered her mouth, turning away.

She vomited violently.

Ugh, this was so gross.

Suddenly, she thought cremation would be a good option after death.

Burial in the soil involved worrying about decomposition and pests, while burial at sea might end up as fish food. She quickly took off her backpack, retrieved a bottle of purified water, and drank a few sips to feel a bit better. However, something strange happened. When Cheyenne looked over again, the Mr. Bald Vulture, who had just been feasting voraciously, had actually passed away! Could it be that he ate too much and choked? But as she reluctantly covered her nose and walked towards that direction with her eyes averted, she discovered that the vulture had been poisoned. There were white foam around its beak, and its partially lifeless body was twitching uncontrollably.

It seemed that it was indeed poisoned. It was flying gracefully in the sky just a moment ago, but now it was dead, presumably because it had eaten the flesh of the corpse.

This person must have been poisoned before his death.

How toxic was it exactly to be able to kill such a large bird instantly? Cheyenne's gaze turned to the corpse, which had been partially eaten by the vulture, but sblurry traces of blood could still be seen.

Even the blood vessels and bones were black, indicating a rapid-acting toxin.

She held her breath and carefully took out a set of silver needles from her pocket, using one of them to extract a piece of the black, corrupted flesh and placing it in a sealed glass test tube. The silver needle had been corroded into black.

Truly a highly toxic substance.

After collecting the sample, Cheyenne wanted to bury the corpse, but the frozen ground made it impossible to dig without tools.

So she could only use a small knife to cut off sbranches and cover the body, hoping to attract fewer vultures.

While covering the body, she found a handgun under the black-robed figure's clothes. She picked it up, wiped it casually with a leaf, and tucked it into her military coat.

As she ventured deeper into the forest, she felt a growing chill. Who knows what kind of bears or fierce beasts might leap out? The silver needles wouldn't be reliable in those situations.

Having a handgun could provide sprotection.

Cheyenne continued forward, leaving the area behind. Just as she left the ground, a black figure appeared closely behind her.

With each step, the soles of her shoes rustled the frost-covered leaves, creating a faint sound.

If they hadn't been about ten meters away from each other, Cheyenne would have surely heard it.

However, relying on a woman's intuition, she felt an intermittent gust of cold wind behind her, prompting her to turn around.

The man had excellent anti-tracking fell to the abilities. He immehin the grass ground I hiding deep within the and covering himself with leaves, leaving no traces.

A chilly breeze blew by, and the forest echoed with howling and an om unbearable stench. Cheyenne couldn't stand it and covered her nose as she quickly walked away. For sunknown reason, generally speaking, the higher the altitude when climbing a mountain, the colder it would be.

But as she ascended, she felt that the temperature was warmer than at the foot of the mountain, likely due to the miasma, which was absent at the mountain's base but gradually becoming denser along the mountainside.

Considering her pregnancy, Cheyenne opened a bottle of hem personally carried herbal medicine, swallowed a pill, and temporarily sealed her meridians with a silver needle. This way, her heart rate would decrease, and her breathing would slow down.

As tpassed, the sun finally emerged today, and the miasma in the forest reached its peak concentration.

Everything appeared white, and nothing could be seen. Walking in the forest felt like being blind, only able to move forward tentatively.

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