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Visibility over the ocean was extremely poor, and beyond a dozen meters, everything was shrouded in a blinding mist, with raindrops colliding and shattering mid-air, falling into the sea as scattered spray.

Even as the drones managed to work steadily in the Level 7 winds, they now had to close in to discern the specific condition of the life raft.

The sea conditions had officially reached Level 6, with wind speeds at Level 7, and five-meter-high wave peaks were visible everywhere; the ocean roiled like a churning earth dragon, beneath the black sea, only the orange life raft struggled desperately, much like a small beast fighting to escape from the jaws of a snake.

Raindrops struck the life raft, casting a layer of faint glow upon it.

Above and below were rain, beyond was the boundless darkness, below the raft was the ocean, reaching hundreds of meters deep, and all around were transparent curtains of water, as if all the fish in the world had gathered in this space, with rivulets of rain tightly packed with no gaps to be found.

Wave peaks sheared by the wind began to extend into elongated strips along the slopes, and at times, the peaks took on the elongated shape of storm waves. Their edges even started to disintegrate into spray, shattering in mid-air, turned by the fierce winds into invisible, colorless mist.

Bi Fang’s arms were incredibly sore; he no longer remembered the number of waves he had faced or how long he had endured.

Each wave consumed his physical and mental strength, and if not for his stamina already boosted to fifteen points, matched with his elevated recovery abilities, he might have already failed to persevere and left his fate to the heavens.

The will to survive was like a coal mine that, once ignited, was difficult to extinguish.

You can do it!

Countless viewers in front of the screens prayed and cheered for Bi Fang.

There were familiar friends and loyal viewers; with each wave that crashed, it was a stretch to the limits of life’s tension, a perfect demonstration of human survival instinct.

Milani stared at the surging giant waves, her mouth agape, unable to believe that such a scene could be real, what impressive Huaxia people!

Even more formidable than her silly Grandpa De! He’s now her idol!

Milani reached out her little hand and poked the burly man beside her, “Silly De, are you as strong as him?”

Mulenga patted his daughter’s head, watching the giant waves on the television, and despite feeling a shiver, he smiled and nodded, “Of course, your silly dad is the strongest!”

Milani puffed up her cheeks, her tone full of doubt, “Really?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Where did this little girl learn this argument? It almost choked him up.

Mulenga’s expression stiffened, his face the epitome of awkwardness, but he still insisted, “Of course it’s true, would I lie to you?”

Milani pointed at the TV, “Then you go and try drifting too!”

This time, Mulenga was truly stumped; he looked up at the life raft struggling in the waves, admiring yet not completely convinced.

In his view, Bi Fang’s actions had nothing to do with strength anymore; it was sheer recklessness!

To talk about actual skill level, it was really hard to say.

Of course, not to say Bi Fang was without skill, he definitely had it, and it wasn’t shabby either; being able to struggle against the sea waves for dozens of minutes just on physical strength alone would surpass the vast majority of people, otherwise, he would not have accumulated a group of loyal fans.

But as for being the world’s number one…

Mulenga had heard of this recently rising adventurer and recognized his achievements, but to claim, as his fans did, that he was the world’s number one was a bit too exaggerated, or at least he felt he himself was not inferior.

Mulenga originally belonged to the British Scottish Deerstalkers Special Forces, a legendary unit with a long history.

Because Scotland has traditionally been dominated by the livestock industry and is home to a plethora of wildlife, it has given rise to many exceptionally skilled hunters. As the poaching industry ran rampant, these hunters, under official leadership, formed a special forces unit known as the Deer Hunters.

Those who could join the ranks of the Deer Hunter Troop were, without exception, elite hunters who had received professional military training and had a long family tradition. They were masters of many wilderness survival skills unknown to the public and had extraordinary marksmanship, regarded as the forefathers of modern military snipers.

These feats were enough to show what a formidable presence the Deer Hunters were!

Mulenga, at thirty-six years old, had just retired last year. He was at the peak of both his experience and physical fitness. His family, spanning three generations, were all hunting experts. It was absolutely impossible for him to acknowledge a twenty-five-year-old youngster, a full ten years his junior, as the world’s best.

“See, you don’t dare, do you?”

The teasing laughter of Milani snapped Mulenga back to reality. Facing his daughter’s challenge, Mulenga couldn’t help but feel provoked, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t dare.”

“Then prove it to me!”

“How should I prove it?”

“You should go on the show too!”

Following his daughter’s arm, Mulenga looked towards the television, where Bi Fang was struggling in the storm. The sight plunged Mulenga into deep thought.

Participate in the show?

With his hand stroking his coarse chin, Mulenga glanced at the Bi Fang on the screen, quite tempted. Before this, it had never occurred to him that even wilderness survival could be transformed into a form of entertainment, and be this popular.

He had been a Deer Hunter for ten years. Although he could manage a decent life with his pension and hunting after retirement, how could that compare to the quick money of becoming an entertainment star?

If he could really achieve what “Master Fang” had on TV, become a leader in the field, and earn his keep with his skills, wouldn’t the money just pour in?

Not only would his family be able to move into a better house, his wife would be able to buy pretty handbags, and even his daughter would be able to attend a good school—all these were benefits.

But most importantly, how could he lose face in front of his daughter?

Mulenga looked up once more, his eyes now ablaze with fire!

He believed he wasn’t the only one harboring such thoughts.

But who was afraid of whom?

All this, of course, Bi Fang was unaware of, as he was battling furiously with the waves, completely oblivious to the fact that someone was eying his world number one spot.

Of course, even if he knew, it wouldn’t matter to him. He wasn’t some tycoon who monopolized an industry and prohibited others from ascending. He wasn’t afraid of competition; Bi Fang was fully confident in himself. He actually looked forward to the emergence of more formidable survival experts in the world, eager to measure his skills against theirs.

The winds of the wilderness were stirred by him, so, how many gods were hidden in a world without Bear Grylls and Grandpa De?

Another giant wave surged towards him. Bi Fang ducked his head down and low to stabilize his center of gravity. After battling the storm for nearly half an hour, he was utterly exhausted. This made his entire body sore, but he still clung tenaciously to the life raft, not daring to relax in the slightest.

Fortunately, after half an hour of struggle, Bi Fang could clearly feel that the storm had subsided a great deal. This wasn’t an illusion—the soreness in his arms indeed began to decrease, indicating that the pressure he was facing had lessened.

The sea conditions might have downgraded from level six to level five; the spray from the giant waves was noticeably less than before, indicating a decrease in wind speed.

As the wind speed dropped, so did the height of the giant waves, with a drop of less than five meters, greatly reducing the likelihood of capsizing. If the trend continued, the drop would be even less, and the life raft would survive without his intervention.

With this in mind, Bi Fang pulled over a coat, preparing for his next move. He hadn’t forgotten the ultimate purpose of waiting out this rain.

Now that the waves had diminished, the urgent task was to collect water.

He had been thirsty for a full three days.