Chapter 3

Old Ma seemed to understand the young man's words and continued on his way. With Old Ma's experience, there was no need to worry about taking the wrong path. The young man threw the whip onto the cart and pulled out a machete from under the burlap sack. The machete was over two feet long and eight inches wide, with a slightly thick back and a slightly curved blade. The handle was wrapped in red cloth, and it had no sheath.

With the machete in hand, the young man's demeanor changed. He lost the friendly air of a neighborhood boy and gained a touch of firmness and sternness. His eyes narrowed to a needle-like focus, and he coldly watched the wild wolf, gripping the machete tightly with one hand. His veins stood out on the back of his hand, and his body was slightly bent, as if facing a formidable enemy.

The cruelty and madness of a hungry wolf can only be truly felt by those who have experienced it. A well-fed wild wolf is not very picky about food and won't attack humans unless provoked. But a hungry wolf has no such qualms. For survival, it is reckless. Perhaps provoked by the young man's challenge, the hungry wolf charged forward madly.

Seeing the speed and stride of the hungry wolf, the young man's expression grew even more serious. This was an experienced hungry wolf. It maintained a steady pace and a straight line, which helped shorten the attack distance and time. It didn't seem to be using its full strength, indicating that it wasn't yet exhausted from hunger.

The young man didn't move, conserving his energy. He coldly watched the charging hungry wolf, his eyes flashing with determination. The machete, which had been hanging naturally at his side, was now turned with the blade facing forward. As the hungry wolf drew closer, the young man still didn't move. Panic would only hasten death. Clearly, the young man had extensive experience in fighting hungry wolves.

In an instant, the hungry wolf pounced. When it was about five or six meters away, it suddenly leaped, its large body soaring high, its mouth wide open, and its sharp claws gleaming in the twilight.

With no support in the air, the leaping hungry wolf couldn't change its attack. This was the moment the young man had been waiting for. Facing the ferocious charge, he remained as still as a mountain, then moved like a hare. He shouted, "Kill—," and with a sudden burst of strength, he pushed off the ground, advancing toward the hungry wolf.

Just as they were about to collide, the young man side-stepped, his body crouching strangely. The machete in his hand slashed forward, and with a "thud," the sharp blade pierced the hungry wolf's abdomen, blood spurting out.

"Thud!" The hungry wolf's leaping body fell heavily at the young man's feet, groaning in pain and looking at the young man with a defiant gaze. Its body curled and struggled, trying to stand up.

The young man's calm eyes locked onto the hungry wolf. He kicked the machete handle, and with a "thud," the machete pierced deeper. The hungry wolf howled in agony, its eyes, which had been glaring at the young man, quickly dimmed and lost their life.

Looking at the dead hungry wolf, the young man felt a great sense of relief. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. The fight had been extremely dangerous. If the hungry wolf hadn't leaped high and lost its momentum, and if the young man hadn't remained calm and waited for the right moment to counterattack, the outcome could have been uncertain. The young man pulled the machete out, wiped the blood clean on the wolf's body, and let out a long sigh. Seeing that Old Ma had already moved on, he picked up the dead wolf and ran to catch up.

A hungry wolf with extensive combat experience was not easy to deal with. In the fight, if the young man had countered a moment too early or too late, the hungry wolf, not being in the air, would have had room to maneuver, and the outcome would have been uncertain.

The young man threw the dead wolf onto the cart and said with a grin, "Old Ma, how's my skill? This wolf skin would make a great vest for you. A horse in a wolf skin would definitely look cool and attract a lot of mares. Don't thank me; we're good brothers. If it weren't for you, I, Luo Zheng, would have become a handful of yellow earth when I got heatstroke in the wilderness." His playful demeanor had replaced the earlier sternness and ferocity.

Old Ma let out a long whinny in response and continued galloping. The young man laughed and scolded, "You get excited at the mention of mares, you old lecher. Don't get diarrhea later." He then chased after Old Ma.

The man and the horse ran across the wilderness. As night fell, a heavy rain poured down, stinging their faces. The young man quickly pulled out the tarp from the cart to cover the burlap sack and urged Old Ma to speed up. He could see the outpost ahead and felt a sense of relief.

As they got closer, the young man, Luo Zheng, smelled an unusual血腥味 and saw no sentry on the watchtower. He was greatly alarmed, drew the machete cautiously, and locked his eyes on the camp. He hid behind the cart and moved forward carefully. Soon, he saw a familiar figure lying on the square.

The person was lying face down, motionless, and the rain around him was turning red. Luo Zheng was shocked and ran over quickly, forgetting that he might become a target for snipers. When he turned the person over, his face changed dramatically. It was the squad leader, a familiar comrade whose head had been half torn off, already dead.

"Squad leader?" Luo Zheng panicked, looking at the person in his arms in disbelief. They had been joking and talking just yesterday, and now his closest comrade had become a cold corpse. Suddenly, he thought of something and carried the squad leader's body toward the camp, running madly.

Luo Zheng, experiencing this for the first time, was in a state of chaos, forgetting all basic tactical evasion. He didn't realize that this would expose his position. Fortunately, the enemy had already left; otherwise, he would have died many times over. His mind was filled with worry and anger.

When he reached the camp, Luo Zheng saw that the kitchen had been burned, and the houses around it were also charred. If it hadn't been for the rain, the entire outpost would have been reduced to ashes. He rushed into the rooms, finding nothing, and finally saw several charred bodies in the kitchen.

"Class leader?" Luo Zheng's mind went blank, and his body went limp, sitting on the ground. The squad leader's body fell from his arms. His mind was a blank slate, and his eyes stared at the charred bodies, oblivious to the stench in the air.

After a while, Luo Zheng's face turned fierce. He endured his pain, knelt down, and bowed his head. His mind was filled with memories of his comrades' playful and crazy moments, and tears rolled down his cheeks. A man does not shed tears lightly, but only when he is deeply hurt.

"Thud, thud, thud!" Three heavy bows left his forehead blood-red. Luo Zheng's face was filled with sorrow as he said, "Class leader, brothers, your spirits in heaven must tell me the truth. I will not rest until I avenge this." A powerful aura of killing intent rose, and the air around him seemed to burn.