Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Hurry up! Otherwise, I'll chop off your legs, you old thing. Pah."

"Boss, we should be able to head back if we make it this far, right? We can still have a feel or two when we return."

"Bastard, you'll lose your hand at the poker table sooner or later."

Under the dim lantern light, a crooked procession approached, speaking a language incomprehensible to most onlookers.

The leading middle-aged man, dressed in black, limped forward with his hands raised. Three of his fingers had been severed, and the bandage around one of the stumps was stained with blood.

Following him were over a dozen burly men of varying heights and builds, their faces indiscernible from a distance.

"What language are they speaking? Why can't I understand a word?"

"It seems like Mese. Hmm, is the prototype for this scenario from country M?"

"We're doomed. How many cadets know this obscure language?"

NPCs' languages weren't translated; cadets had to understand them on their own to comprehend what was being said.

The audience was somewhat worried about Ji Xinghai. Did he know this obscure language?

As the group drew closer, their features became clearer, but what first caught the viewers' attention were the lanterns.

The cylindrical paper lanterns, made of bamboo frames and paper, swayed in mid-air. From afar, they appeared orange-yellow, but as they neared, it became apparent that they emitted a ghostly pale green light, as if from phosphorescent orbs that moved with consciousness within the lanterns.

"Second-level anomalous creature, Green Lantern?"

Under the eerie glow of the Green Lanterns, the faces of these people appeared on the screen.

There were fourteen of them. Apart from the trembling middle-aged man in black at the front, the thirteen behind formed a team.

Leading them was a muscular man holding a rifle, its muzzle pressed against the middle-aged man's lower back. They marched in a line but in an irregular S-shape. They carried weapons—rifles, light machine guns, pistols—and had ammunition clips and grenades tucked away.

"Hurry up." The man with the rifle kicked the thigh of the man in front of him, glaring with eyes like copper bells. "Do you want to lose another finger?"

The middle-aged man in black shuddered and stumbled forward.

"Bastard." The man revealed a mouthful of blackened teeth, two of which were capped with gold. A deep scar ran across his face, his eyes bulging in a terrifying manner.

The twelve men following him exuded a murderous aura. Even those who grinned with their lips curled at the corners had an indescribable sense of brutality.

"Hmm?" The man with the golden teeth suddenly fixed his gaze directly at the camera, shifting his gun to aim. The dark barrel felt like Death's aim at the heart of the viewers, freezing their blood and leaving their minds momentarily blank.

Were they discovered?

"These NPCs must have come out of the meat grinder, carrying such a fearsome aura that even ghosts and gods would avoid. They are highly sensitive to killing intent and unfamiliar scents," the director observed intently.

Could Ji Xinghai withstand this pressure?

"Ahh!"

A sudden scream echoed in the distance. Except for the man in black, the other thirteen turned their heads ninety degrees in unison, their movements both eerie and twisted.

The unsuspecting viewers in the live stream screamed in fright, nearly smashing their screens.

A cadet had been discovered, perhaps even harmed, in the scenario.

The remaining cadets descending the mountain were jolted, their mental states fluctuating wildly. Their fear levels all surpassed twenty, crossing the threshold for 'mild mental dispersion.' As for Ji Xinghai...

The live stream focused entirely on this peculiar group, so much so that Ji Xinghai, hiding in the nearby bushes, was only represented by a flashing arrow. If not for this distinctive arrow indicating his status as a cadet, no one would have known there was someone concealed in the bushes so close by.

No sound, no abrupt breathing, no unusual scent—his data was as if he were dead, 59, 0.

"There's no one here."

"Nor here."

Golden Teeth fired several shots into the bushes, a bullet grazing past Ji Xinghai's head.

The viewers gasped, but he remained motionless, save for a few insects startled from the bushes.

'Fully equipped with camouflage gear and boots, carrying modified military firearms, scars and bullet holes on their faces and bodies, extensive combat experience. Dark skin exposed to outdoor environments for long periods. Wearing a gold watch on the wrist, gold rings on the fingers, traces of perfume, lax discipline, and a pursuit of pleasure. These are mercenaries.'

Mercenaries. Ji Xinghai licked his lips, his eyes narrowing in excitement.

The Green Lanterns swayed around them, even passing over the bushes where Ji Xinghai hid, yet they seemed oblivious. After confirming no one was nearby, they lowered their guns.

The Command Unit exhaled collectively, realizing they had been holding their breath.

The deputy director watched as the patrol squad moved further away, chuckling. "Do you think it's too late for me to sign my kid up for summer camp now?"

This was, of course, a joke. Summer camps for elementary school kids didn't teach stealth tactics. Even seasoned special forces soldiers who had rolled through battlefields alone wouldn't fare much better.

They preferred the speculation that Ji Xinghai had undergone additional training during his nine-year coma in a state of 'human-computer separation.'

"What are the characteristics of the Green Lantern, this anomalous creature?" the director suddenly asked the scholar specializing in anomalous creatures.

The kindly-looking elderly woman adjusted her glasses. "It's a second-level anomalous creature resulting from the mutation of paper lanterns. Legend has it that the light inside is from powerful spirits. Within the Green Lantern's illumination range, the dead are resurrected, and the resurrected dead are controlled by the Green Lantern."

"Are the people behind them resurrected corpses?"

"Not exactly. However, once they die, they will become controlled corpses. If our cadets plan to take action against this group, they must first deal with the troublesome lantern, otherwise..."

She left her sentence unfinished, but everyone could see the complexity of dealing with this group—well-equipped enemies with combat experience and the eerie lantern of resurrection.

Regardless, the absence of trouble was the greatest good. The atmosphere in the Command Unit became lively and relaxed again. The head of the analysis team began reviewing the recorded data.

New information emerged—their attire, the weapons in their hands, all provided clues.

The live stream was no different; everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief.

But in less than two seconds, that relief turned to tension once more—Ji Xinghai moved. He crouched, his palms touching the ground, like a nocturnal hunting cat, each step matching the patrol squad's footsteps ahead.

He was actually chasing after them.

Rustle, rustle—the only sound was the slightly chaotic footsteps of the leading group.

Viewers stared intently at Ji Xinghai, at those eyes, like a beast's in the night, hunting.

'They're turning towards the village center, southeast. And the wind is blowing from the southeast. Following now puts me downwind, minimizing noise.'

'From here to the village center, it won't exceed one kilometer. The closer we get, the more teams converge, increasing danger.'

Ji Xinghai analyzed all influencing factors in his mind. His best chance was the three-second pause when these people were distracted by screams.

Ambush (score), gun (long-range weapon), middle-aged man in black (information), and lantern (food).

Either feast or fail miserably.

He was patient, step by step, following closely, gradually entering the range where Federation student Jieson was discovered and shot dead.

Viewers remembered Jieson. The threat of death was so intense that even sitting in front of screens, their muscles tensed. But Ji Xinghai remained calm, still waiting for the perfect moment.

There wouldn't be just one person coming down the mountain, nor would only one be discovered. He needed to seize this fleeting opportunity.

The closer to the village, the stronger the smell of blood and rotting meat.

Ji Xinghai sniffed the familiar stench. He looked ahead to a nearby shadow, the buzzing of flies carried by the wind.

It seemed to be a newly dug pit, too dark to see what was inside.

Bodies, perhaps?

Those who fled to the mountains were fish in a drying pond; how could those below avoid it? And the killed wouldn't be left carelessly on the roadside, hindering their movements. So, dumping them in a pit made sense.

Judging by the size of the pit, there were likely over a hundred bodies inside.

Now was autumn. Corpses usually began to visibly decompose and emit odors two to three days after death, attracting flies to lay eggs.

The odor in the air wasn't overwhelming yet, and flies had just appeared. These bodies probably died around three days ago.

He guessed, storing this hypothesis as another piece of usable information.

The patrol squad slowly approached the pit. The middle-aged man in black trembled more violently, head bowed, hands tightly clenched.

But the mercenaries behind relaxed, even chatting.

"After this job, I'm going to find some pretty girls. I'm dying of boredom."

As the team passed the pit, Ji Xinghai didn't glance at it once. He kept his focus on the group ahead, following not too close, not too far.

The searchlight swept past Ji Xinghai's feet. This team was now dangerously close to the village, and the risks were escalating. He had to decide: continue following or wait for another chance.

"Aaah—"

A scream, unmistakably from a night explorer.

The squad stopped, all looking to one side, where the sound came from.

"Damn it, again. Why don't we have any rats here? I'd skewer them and trade for meat." The guy with the floral necktie cracked a joke, his jade safety plaque swinging back and forth on his chest.

"Don't let your guard down," Jinya barked.

The floral necktie jumped, chuckling nervously.

"This is the second one. These are elite students. Hey? Where's Ji Xinghai? Wasn't he right here?"

"Yeah, where is he?" In the pitch-black background, everyone searched for Ji Xinghai. Thankfully, the copy gave each live stream's direct student a golden arrow marker, and they finally found the arrow rapidly approaching the patrol team.

He moved silently like a cat, yet swiftly like lightning.

Too fast, in just three breaths, the golden arrow reached the end of the line. A flash of cold light, a dark shadow pounced on the last person, using height advantage to cover the mouth with one hand while the other drew a knife to slit the throat. Blood gushed out, clean and decisive.

The chosen victim stared wide-eyed, struggling slightly. The faint noise reached the ears of those ahead.

Jinya's ears twitched; he heard it.

The viewers' hearts leaped to their throats.

"Boss, what's this?"

The floral necktie's voice suddenly sounded. Jinya and the others subconsciously looked at the floral necktie, who was staring wide-eyed, more surprised than anyone.

"I, I didn't...I didn't say anything." He opened his mouth, confusion and fear in his expression.

In such an environment, at such a moment, he should indeed be terrified.

"Attack!" Jinya, having survived countless life-and-death battles, immediately sensed something was wrong. His finger was on the trigger, ready to pull.

But missed opportunities are lost forever. All he received was a bullet spinning at high speed.

Bang. The bullet accurately hit the lower part of the brain, killing instantly.

Bang, bang, bang, bang. Four more shots followed, four figures falling to the ground.

Most people assume shooting the heart or throat is the fastest way to kill someone, but in fact, being shot in the heart or throat doesn't result in immediate death. Rather, it's the medulla oblongata, located at the base of the brain. Once hit, death is instantaneous.

Ji Xinghai clenched his lips tightly; the scent of gunpowder and the stench of scorched flesh ignited every nerve in his body.

The remaining few sensed impending doom, their grip on their weapons tightening.

"Who's there?! Ah!"

Ji Xinghai had already acquired a second modified rifle, taking down five lives in an instant. He switched guns, continued to kill, all actions nearly instinctual—instincts honed from countless brushes with death.

All thirteen were dead, bullets through their brains, no chance of survival.

The last to die was the bewildered man with the floral scarf, as payment for using his voice, he lived a few seconds longer.

The floral scarf man fell, the jade safety plaque shattering as it hit the ground, its fragments mingling with the bloodstains.

The last bullet, however, was reserved for the glowing lantern in mid-air.

Ji Xinghai knew nothing of green lanterns, only that this thing could be consumed.

The punctured green lantern, too afraid to even attempt resurrection, tried to flee but was caught by the tall Ji Xinghai, who plunged his other hand inside, grabbing a writhing ball of light and swallowing it whole.

The icy light ball melted in his mouth like fish jelly, tasteless, merely cool, akin to mint juice.

He discarded the now useless lantern shell, turning to survey the carnage.

"Aa! Aa—" The previously captive man in black screamed, clutching his head. Ji Xinghai delivered a swift hand chop, silencing him abruptly.

He heard footsteps carried by the wind, approaching from all directions.

Ji Xinghai hoisted the middle-aged man onto his shoulder, one hand retrieving the machine gun, ammunition stuffed into his arms, two pistols in his pockets.

The two searchlights sweeping overhead converged on his location, without hesitation, he leaped into a preselected grave pit with the middle-aged man, sending flies scattering.

The searchlight swept over him the next second, then quickly passed over the grotesquely twisted pile of corpses.

Lying on his side, Ji Xinghai kept his eyes open, staring at the nearby corpse.

The bloated, decaying corpse with lividity stared up at the dark sky with wide, grayish-white eyes, its intestines exposed, an umbilical cord connecting to a wet, amniotic-sheathed infant. It curled its tiny fists, huddled beside its despairing mother.