Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 26

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Chapter 364: Phoenix Eyes Beneath the Fallen Leaves Pit

As one of the eight legendary assassins, Bo Yue was also an extremely cautious and cunning person. Her true form would never be at the first sniping point.

However, she never expected that the retaliator who slightly exposed half a finger, allowing the sniper to identify the physical body, was not my true form, but rather the Avici Monk cloaked in my disguise.

This unexpected battle on the cable car ultimately favored me. I quickly took out medicine from my canvas bag, disinfected and stopped the bleeding from the tiger's mouth of my right hand where Bo Yue had bitten me, and finally wrapped it with gauze.

Although I was very anxious for Du Mo, for the long term, I still had to find the Soul-Withering Snail that had fallen from the tree to see if he had really been killed by Bo Yue.

"Woo-coo-coo, woo-coo-coo..." After entering Africa, Du Mo and I had heard the call of the eared bird, so I imitated this wild bird, subtly incorporating the rhythmic code we had pre-determined before coming down from the Sea Demon.

"Hissing, hissing." I searched back and forth in the dense, towering forest, clutching my M25 sniper rifle, until I heard rustling sounds like island bats or mountain rats. Finally, at the bottom of a large pit covered with thick layers of dead leaves, I found the blood-soaked Soul-Snail.

She had buried herself face up under the leaves, her two pistols pointed upwards, ready to shoot any enemy who might suddenly peek into the pit.

"Snail, this isn't a good place for a long hibernation. Let's go upstairs." Although Soul-Snail sensed a hint of sarcasm in my words, she was already wounded and weak, no longer able to be as arrogant as usual. She only glanced at me with her sorrowful, deep black eyes, ultimately saying nothing.

I jumped into the pit, pulled the Burmese woman from under the leaves, and laid her flat. Because of the unusual nature of the Soul-Withering Conch's clothing, I couldn't simply use my dagger to cut open the fabric covering her wounds. Instead, I reached out to unbutton her clothes.

At that moment, I deliberately smirked, a lewd grin spreading

across my face, but the Soul-Withering Conch was no ordinary woman. She had endured countless trials and tribulations in her life. So, she simply gazed silently at the endless forest sky with her sorrowful eyes, her lips tightly sealed beneath her veil, remaining motionless as I undid her clothes, as quiet and cold as a corpse.

I touched her firm, proud breasts with my cold, damp, and unusually rough hands. But this woman paid no heed to me, showing no sign of anger.

The Soul-Withering Conch knew that in this environment, suffocated by death like a spider's web, there was no room for lust.

My deliberate lewd behavior wasn't malicious; it was just a way to retaliate against her for the bullying she had caused me so often.

In truth, she knew exactly what was going on, which was why she ignored me completely. Besides, my actions could also stimulate her to stay awake, preventing her from fainting.

The silence and calmness of the Withered Soul Conch made me feel bored, so I stopped arguing with her. When her two dark, muscular shoulders were exposed, they were instantly covered with

a dense network of small wounds, like angry, blood-red eyes.

The flesh-hanging whip used by the Avici Monk was likely a torture device inherited from some dark European cult. The Withered Soul Conch was indeed a strong woman; it

was remarkable that she could endure such excruciating pain until now.

A Barrett sniper rifle, weighing 10.06 kilograms, was discarded by the Withered Soul Conch to reduce blood loss, and she hid in the large pit filled with fallen leaves.

This further diminished the advantage of Bo Yue's ability to wait and prepare. The sniper rifle that Bo Yue used as a decoy to lure me was probably the one the Withered Soul Conch had discarded.

After disinfecting, stopping the bleeding, and applying medicine and bandages to Wither Soul Monroe, I slowly turned her to her side and injected her with antibiotics in her buttocks.

After finishing, Wither Soul Monroe's eyelids were about to close. "Don't sleep yet. I'll get you out of this forest and find a sheltered mountain crevice where you can sleep for as long as you want. Lie down first, I'll go upstairs to get some things."

After I finished speaking, Wither Soul Monroe's phoenix eyes, which were about to close, suddenly lit up again. But she still wouldn't speak to me. I jumped onto the large pit, grabbed an M25 sniper rifle, and ran towards the corpses of Bo Yue and the Avici Monk.

These guys must have hidden a lot of strange but useful things on them. Examining their bodies is crucial; it will greatly help in quickly understanding and unveiling the mystery of the eight legendary assassins.

Bo Yue's head was gone; a headless female corpse covered with a camouflage net, surrounded by rotten and broken brain matter and skull.

I quickly stripped off her clothes, stuffing everything from each pocket into my bag, intending to examine it carefully later.

Similarly, I searched the body of the Avici Monk and Bo Yue, burying them quickly and discreetly. No one but Withering Soul Snail and I would know this. (

Chapter 365: The Living Coffin at the Foot of the Valley)

At this moment, a thick layer of white mist had risen above the canopy of the Sky-Gazing Tree Realm. After retrieving the necessary items and weapons, I returned to the large pit, had Withering Soul Snail climb onto my back, and tied our waists together securely with a mountain rope.

Then, I ran along the overhead cable to the other side of the valley. This way, it wouldn't be easy to get lost in the dense forest.

Intermittent sniper fire began to echo from the rock walls surrounding the valley. After all, Withering Soul Snail was a woman, and her body was far less heavy than Du Mo's.

The fallen leaves beneath the trees were soft and yielding, making it difficult to walk without sinking deep into the mud. The rain hadn't lessened much even as the clouds dispersed, and both the Withering Soul Conch and I were soaked to the bone.

The Burmese woman on my back, somewhat dazed and confused, was still shivering despite being wrapped in a raincoat. I wished I could run as fast as I could, quickly finding some shelter in a crevice in the mountainside. But I was still secured by a rope around my waist, and four heavy bundles were dangling from my back, sliding shuffling on the fallen leaves.

The burden on my body was no less than dragging the corpse of the Avici Monk through the undergrowth. Even so, I had to carry a Barrett sniper rifle, ready to deal with any pirate soldiers that might appear at any moment.

If I wasn't lucky, I might encounter another hostile headhunter. Because I was carrying the Withering Soul Conch, the chances of being shot were high; many snipers enjoy the feeling of killing two birds with one stone, and of course, this also affected me. I knew perfectly well that if a sniper bullet pierced this woman's back, a blood-red bullet would spring from my chest, piercing through flesh.

After running for more than half an hour, I felt my legs begin to give way, knowing I was heading towards the island valley. I gritted my teeth and quickened my pace.

However, after walking several hundred meters along the steep, sloping forest slope, a towering stone wall suddenly appeared before me, covered with a variety of lush, green tropical plants.

I glanced up; the nearby towering trees were thinning, no longer able to block out the sky. "We've reached the edge of the Underworld's siege. It seems we have no choice but to climb up this mountain wall along this exit to the heavens,"

I said in a low, cold voice to the Withered Soul Conch. She seemed to be asleep, but from her occasionally shivering, warm body, I could tell she was still awake.

"Don't exaggerate. It's just a few trees and a few rocks. Put me down," the Withered Soul Conch's mournful, chilling voice softly echoed behind me.

From the first day I met this eccentric woman, I felt she would never joke, and would always disdain any banter or humor. But at this moment, her words finally revealed a hint of humanity.

Her heart was like an ancient, unyielding block of ice. I had no intention of moving her to help me in a crucial moment; if I did, I'd be dead long ago, not alive today. I helped her live to share the burden of my own suffering and to maintain a delicate balance of power with the Pirate King.

I could still sense the deeper meaning in the phrase "Withering Soul Conch," indicating that she had faced far more perilous situations than this. What was happening now was far from hell compared to her past experiences.

I took the Withering Soul Conch off my body and re-tied the rope around her slender yet strong waist, so I could hold her up when we climbed.

Two of the four large bundles were abandoned by the Avici Monk and Bo Yue after their deaths. They were too heavy to carry up with the Withering Soul Conch, so I dragged them around the base of the cliff, looking for a place to hide them for later.

The foot of the mountain was covered with short, stout shrubs and pebbles. I wanted to find a spot where I could pry out the rocks to stuff my two bags inside, so they would be hidden and protected from the rain.

Braving the swirling rain, I squinted and searched for a while before finally spotting a large, meter-square rock at the foot of the mountain. Eroded by natural weathering, it had detached itself from the mountain and appeared movable.

At the summit of the valley, rainwater, like countless taps turned on, flowed down the uneven rock face from the shrub-covered mountainside.

I crouched down, trying to peer closer at the seemingly movable rock, but the cold, rock-crushing water that had rolled down the mountain immediately seeped into the back of my neck, making me shiver.

This large rock, resembling an isosceles trapezoid but not quite regular, had melted and shrunk like ice, leaving a two-finger-thick gap between it and the mountainside.

I quickly got up, broke off a thin stick from a nearby bush, and poked it into the crevice. The result delighted me.

I quickly took out a rope, tied it into a noose, and used the stick to insert the rope, securing it to the large rock. Then, I squatted down in a horse stance and pulled backward with a roar.

My teeth chattered as I clenched them, but the nearly one-ton boulder was still dragged out little by little, like a drawer.

Whew! I let out a long breath, my mixed emotions subsiding somewhat. I had thought I would have to climb to the top of the valley to find a suitable crevice, but now with this cave, it wouldn't be so troublesome.

The large boulder I pulled out had a cross-section of one square meter and was over two meters long. I bent down, crawled inside, and felt around. I found the ground was flat and dry, with enough space for two people to lie down.

However, lying inside felt very uncomfortable, somewhat like lying in a dark, cold coffin in a morgue.

At this point, the Withering Soul Conch naturally wouldn't care about such things. In any case, lying inside alive was far more meaningful than being placed inside after death.

Knowing she wouldn't have to climb the mountain injured again, the Withering Soul Conch readily agreed to my suggestion. She slowly crawled into the stone cave, and I followed, bending down to help her remove her raincoat, allowing the wound on her shoulder to fully relax.

"Your injuries will require at least two days of rest before you can hold a gun again. This is your pack and weapons. I'll also give you some beef jerky, biscuits, and shrimp; enough for you to eat here for two or three days. You're not a little girl; you know how to survive, right?"

I said, taking food and medicine from my own pack and giving them to the Withering Soul Conch, rambling on and on, finally adding a sarcastic remark.

The Withering Soul Conch only let out a mournful groan before closing her eyes and no longer looking at me. She was actually very weak; her willpower was incredibly strong to have endured this long.

Chapter 366: The Ghost on the Small Island

I crawled out of the stone cave and returned to the rain. The Withered Soul Conch could no longer see my movements, so I hid the two packages belonging to Bo Yue and the Avici Monk at the foot of the mountain in the opposite direction.

No one but myself could see anything related to these two legendary warriors. Repacking my weapons and my own packages, I took out the mountain-hooking rope and, before the dark clouds hanging over the valley dissipated, climbed to the top of the valley wall as quickly as possible.

When I reached the verdant, rolling hills at the top of the island, the cool sea breeze brushed my forehead again. All around me was still the vast ocean, with countless waves crashing against the reefs.

Although the temperature was still icy, it was refreshing, making those who had survived the ancient, towering forest valley never want to return.

Crouching low, I crouched and hid in a thicket of bushes resembling tea trees, first taking up a relatively concealed but easily visible position to observe and shoot, and began to reassess the surrounding situation.

This massive pirate battle has lasted seven or eight hours since the first shot was fired. Among the pirate elites, those with poor physical strength, intelligence, and luck have already perished.

The law of survival of the fittest applies; the closer it gets to the end, the stronger the surviving pirates become. Running beneath the lush vegetation, with a bit of luck, sniping even one of the legendary assassins isn't impossible.

Therefore, I must remember relativity and constantly remind myself not to approach the dwindling number of pirate elites with the same mindset.

Since the light was still poor, I scanned the surroundings with the T-shaped sights of my sniper rifle, but didn't see any camouflage or living people running under the leaves.

Shouldering my sniper rifle, I quickly climbed down the back mountain of Gu Island. Suspended by the grappling hook, the descent was relatively smooth, except for the occasional splash of rainwater that stung my eyes.

When I reached the bottom, I saw many pirate corpses hanging in various positions on the mountainside. Some were shot dead by snipers and fell from their cover, while others were stabbed to death while climbing.

On the back of some of the dead, on their necks, chests, and backs, one could see wounds from daggers, as well as marks from slashing knives and whippings.

The pirate soldiers placed on this island valley were truly pitiful; they hadn't even understood what was happening before they were divided and killed by the eight legendary headhunters.

I had just descended halfway down the cliff face when I vaguely sensed that a corpse hanging from a tree branch fifty meters to my right seemed to still be moving. I

quickly grabbed my sniper rifle and looked through the scope. It was a pirate soldier, half-killed by gunfire. Perhaps the person who shot him wasn't on this island; the bullet, traveling a long distance, had deviated from its intended trajectory, landing near the target's vitals.

The half-dead pirate soldier, whose attire clearly identified him as a member of the Sea Demon, showed a flicker of joy on his pained face when he noticed me peering at him.

Clearly, he recognized me as a colonel on the Sea Demon, his officer. At this moment, he shouldn't have any hope in me, just as he wouldn't allow any hope from the unarmed weak on those passenger ships when he robbed them.

"I'm a man who doesn't believe in hope, so I have no hope for you, but I have bullets. I can give you a ride, making your journey to heaven easier."

I silently recited these words to the half-dead pirate who was trying to beckon me for help, and a slight smile appeared on my lips. "Bang!" A streak of fire shot horizontally from the mountainside, and in the sniper's scope, a round, bloody head exploded instantly.

As the headless corpse fell, I quickly put away my sniper rifle, climbed onto the rocks at the foot of the mountain amidst the splashing waves, took out a condom, put it back on the barrel, and then groped my way into the sea, swimming towards the island where Lian Qiutong and Du Mo were.

As the raging tide tossed me like a piece of paper to the opposite island, I was once again forced to cling to a pillar-shaped rock, only my head above water, gasping for breath.

After resting for more than ten minutes, I slowly climbed onto the shore. As my eyes, blurred by the seawater, cleared, I was immediately horrified.

The dark clouds over this island had mostly dissipated, and the brightness of the light was vastly different from that of the valley island I had just crossed.

Forget about climbing directly to the top of the cliff to find Dumo; even crouching at the foot of the island now, I could be shot down by snipers scattered across the nearby islands.

Thinking of this, I quickly darted up and crouched behind a large rock. But in that split second, a bullet whizzed down from half a meter above my head, sending rock fragments flying.

I immediately realized this wasn't a sniper shot fired from the island beneath me. To my west, at the 11:30 direction, there was a smaller island with lush vegetation.

The bullet had come from there. Since the sniping distance had likely increased to around two thousand meters, the sniper hadn't been very accurate. He probably only noticed me after I emerged from the water, and then began calculating wind direction, humidity, and other data, painstakingly aiming at my body and adjusting the data for a long time before finally firing a single shot.

However, to reduce the error of a sniper shot to such an extent at such a distance and in such terrible weather, he must be a truly formidable assassin.

Chapter 367: No Way Out, Just Harder Through the Wall
I was soaking wet, rain dripping from my head, seawater dripping from my body, my back pressed tightly against the cold reef. Looking up at the sky, there were still more than two hours until nightfall. If I continued to crouch like this, waiting for the light to dissipate, my entire body would freeze, eventually making it impossible to even hold the gun properly.

After swimming ashore from the icy waters, I had hoped to warm up by rapidly climbing the mountain, but now, the snipers on that small island were suppressing me, making me afraid to move even slightly.

To shorten the time needed to find Dumo, I had to gain these less than two hours. Looking around, to my left was the crashing sea, and to my right was a mountain wall overgrown with bushes—a truly perilous situation.

I couldn't remember how many times I had been in this kind of dangerous predicament, with no way out, and each time I had survived, it was by forging my own path and breaking through walls.

Looking down at my feet, all I saw were dark, wet, broken rocks. I quickly put down my pack and sniper rifle and began to crouch down, digging at the rocks below.

I had to be extremely careful, because the rocks obscuring my view weren't very large. If I got carried away and neglected my own flexibility, my scalp would be barely visible above the rocks, and before I could even finish digging the hole in the rock beneath my buttocks, a bloody hole would appear on my head first.

"Splash, splash, boom..." The waves crashed violently against the nearby reefs, swirling up countless white sprays that relentlessly drenched me.

Each time I lifted a reef the size of a watermelon, I would throw it out with the force of the crashing wave, preventing the sniper who was locked on from seeing why I kept throwing stones to provoke him.

The pit grew deeper and deeper, soon reaching my waist. After slowly crouching down beneath it, I began digging diagonally. When I reached a point where the large reefs could no longer conceal me, I dared not touch the surface rocks anymore. Instead, I hollowed out the space from below, creating a one-meter-long tunnel.

To prevent the surface rocks from collapsing due to the hollowing out below, I used my dagger and the hook of the grappling rope to wed them in place, and stuffed small stones into the gaps between the rocks to secure them.

The tidal energy of the sea is immense; the waves constantly crashed in, threatening to destroy my structure but also providing excellent cover.

After digging the trenches, I crouched down and moved back to the large reef, slowly poking the barrel of a Barrett sniper rifle out from behind it.

I knew perfectly well that if the guy sniping me hadn't given up, he would already be seeing a dark gun barrel protruding from behind the target's cover through his scope.

I opened the package again and took out a cold human hand. This hand had been chopped off from the arm of the Avici Monk; the severed part still exposed tendons and bones, congealed with tomato-sauce-like blood. But I hadn't expected it to come in handy so quickly.

I hooked the dead man's finger onto the trigger, then suddenly revealed half of it from the reef, before quickly retracting it.

"Bang!" Sure enough, the sniper on the small island fired a bullet, the bullet shattering a piece of reef in front of the barrel.

Because I had anticipated this, I avoided being hit in the cheek by a pebble, only getting a sharp pain on my right ear.

After repeating the same action, the enemy fired another bullet. Although it didn't hit the finger hooked on the trigger precisely, the margin of error wasn't too large.

If it were a thug trying to rush out from behind the boulder with a sniper rifle to fight back or escape, their upper body would be instantly ripped in two.

I tried it again and found it consistently effective, so I extended the Barrett sniper rifle to a certain position, so that only a tiny bit of the dead man's finger hooked on the trigger was visible.

In this way, the enemy would be drawn into an illusion, believing that the target was still lying there, anxiously searching for a countermeasure, but unable to do anything about it.

I crouched down and quietly moved back to the bottom of the hollowed-out tunnel, unzipped a long cloth bag, inside was the sniper rifle that Bo Yue used when he was alive.

Having just witnessed the brutal battle in the island valley, I vaguely sensed the crucial importance of carrying two sniper rifles in the upcoming bloody confrontation.

Everything has its opposite; mutual harm and complementarity coexist. Carrying an extra weapon means expending more physical strength. But for my physique, an extra ten kilograms of weight is negligible. Therefore, I must fully utilize my advantages and upgrade my killing machine to the maximum extent.

The roaring, massive waves crashed against the reefs and quickly receded, leaving behind only fragments of seaweed.

I picked some from under the rocks, wrapped it around the barrel of the sniper rifle, and also wrapped it around the scope a few times.

Then, I tugged at the fishing line in my hand, causing the sniper rifle, disguised as a dead man's finger, to move, further attracting the attention of the sniper determined to kill me.

The long barrel, wrapped in seaweed, crawled out diagonally from under the rocks like a snail. I pressed one eye against the back of the scope, only to see a world of half-darkness and half-light.

"Huff, huff." I immediately lifted my face, blew on the seaweed that was slightly obscuring the sniper scope, and when I pressed my eye back behind the scope, a lush, verdant island's cliff face was clearly reflected in my pupils.

I pulled the second fishing line again; because this line had wrapped around a smooth rock, pulling it back would push the disguised sniper rifle outwards, revealing more of it from behind the rock.

"Whoosh!" A fiery red line of fire shot out from the right flank of the island, trying to hit the dead man's hand hooked on the trigger again.

The sniper barrel, wrapped in seaweed, moved steadily and quickly along the T-shaped crosshair in the scope. In a dense thicket of trees, like boiling green sap, the sniper who had spotted me and was shooting at me was hiding behind a clump of lush foliage, charging towards me with a cold, black barrel.

I couldn't see the guy's whole face; it seemed like he was lying on a moss-covered rock, with only his head sticking out as he aimed and sniped.

He must have been a seasoned pirate soldier who survived the previous battles. His sniping skills and patience suggested he possessed considerable strength. However, he didn't realize that accuracy and patience alone were far from sufficient.

Moreover, having just experienced such a brutal battle, he was far inferior to me in terms of the dark attributes accumulated within an assassin.

Otherwise, his large, camouflaged face wouldn't be directly facing my T-shaped crosshair in the sniping world.

Chapter 368: The Price of Witnessing Darkness

"Whoosh!" Another bullet shot towards the disguised Barrett sniper rifle. But this time, I think he might have hit something, and I immediately sensed something was wrong.

Because, through the sniper scope, I saw his pupil suddenly dilate behind the scope, and the optic nerve in his eyeball swelled and became congested, like a spiderweb suddenly turning red.

The guy's gun barrel twitched slightly, presumably to search the area around the large reef. But when he realized the surrounding reefs were covered in messy, fine seaweed, making it impossible to pinpoint the location of his opponent's return fire for a second or two, he quickly retreated behind a mossy rock.

"Bang!" A bullet, seemingly destined for victory, suddenly shot out from a crevice in the reef, piercing through the spray still lingering in the air after the receding waves, heading straight for its target on the T-shaped crosshair.

Just as the guy's brain sent the dodge command to his muscles, before he could even react, a cloud of blood sprayed up from beneath the dense, lush foliage.

Although the bullet had pierced the target's nasal bone, its astonishing destructive force shattered his entire skull.

Having eliminated the ghost assassin who was holding me back, I quickly packed my bags, preparing to rush into the island. The sniper I shot down, with his last bullet, actually knocked down the disguised sniper rifle, and the Avici Monk's hand stiffly fell away, failing to right the weapon in time.

So, in that brief instant, the sniper suddenly realized he had fallen into a death trap; he had witnessed the dark tactics of a sniper assassin.

This highly valuable and cruel tactic is an improvement for everyone who witnesses it. But the prerequisite is that one must live after witnessing it to continuously improve oneself. If one dies, everything is gone.

After regrouping, I knelt on one knee behind the large rock, the long Barrett sniper rifle, butt on the ground, resting upright on my right hand.

"Ah!" I took a deep breath, slammed my eyes shut, and opened them to look up at the gray sky. The falling rain and sea spray, like a baptism, showered upon me.

Suddenly, I gritted my teeth, propelled myself forward with my hind legs, grabbed my sniper rifle, and darted away, my body swaying wildly and changing direction rapidly, running towards the crevice of the island. Once I disappeared beneath the dense vegetation, another version of myself would be inside this cage.

Just as I had observed and deduced from behind the large rocks on the shore, this crevice in the mountain was overgrown with lush, verdant vegetation, but following the V-shaped path, it was indeed possible to enter the island on foot.

I crouched low, hiding under the branches and leaves as I sprinted. If Shui Zhong and Han Tiannu weren't on the isolated island on the other side of the Hanging Crow, this would be our battlefield.

Gazing at the dense forest and mountain walls, my anxiety intensified. I didn't know if Du Mo was still alive. If I killed the guy with the painted face after Lian Qiutong had crippled him as a live target, it would significantly diminish the significance of achieving my ultimate goal.

Although the battle was fierce and I didn't care about anything else, I had to maintain a clear mind. My reason for being in this hellish pirate war was to protect my women and find a way to get them out of the hands of the real and fake pirate kings.

To deviate from this principle and only know how to kill indiscriminately would be foolish and radical. Because this is different from other aspects of human society, where people can shift blame, find a plausible excuse, and find a scapegoat.

But I only have myself. To survive in this cruel reality, I must be hard-pressed and pragmatic. Because I know that God hasn't discounted the price I have to pay in life; I only have one life.

Running down the V-shaped mountain path, I crashed into many pirate corpses shot down from the island peaks. I memorized their locations one by one, knowing that when supplies ran low, I would have to return and take from them.

My bottom line in terms of humanity on the battlefield was to eat their flesh to keep my stomach moving, to keep myself alive with my rifle, and finally to walk out.

"Bang, bang!" The sounds of sniper fire echoed again from the island's rocky cliffs. At this moment, I couldn't pinpoint the location of the disguised ambush attackers; the dense trees overhead completely blocked my view, making it impossible to observe the surrounding mountains. I remembered when Dumo said goodbye to me at the ship's dock, he was carrying an M25 sniper rifle—the weapon I'd given him for self-defense when we were in danger in Mauritius.

Back then, Jason Jody hadn't dared to assign me a weapon, but since we'd spent time together, although we hadn't experienced a battle like this, I'd taught Dumo how to use the M25 effectively, how to escape in life-or-death situations, and how to make a desperate, life-or-death shot.

Of course, those sniping techniques were absolutely new and thrilling for Dumo, enough to make him completely outmaneuver any pirate of his caliber. But if he tried to use these weapons against me, he would be courting death.

Chapter 369: The Gears of a Killing Machine.
Raindrops fell on the dense canopy above, then slid off the trembling leaves, slamming into my ears.

I sprinted forward, straining my eardrums to catch the muffled sniper fire echoing from the island walls, trying to distinguish the subtle differences in the sounds of the M25, Barrett, SVD, and M40 sniper rifles.

Now, I couldn't traverse the rocky island forest, nor could I use the loudspeaker to call for Dumo. I could only follow the sound of each M25 sniper rifle shot, secretly searching for Dumo.

Only in this way could I safely find Dumo and move him alive from this island. Because if Lian Qiutong knew that I was planning to secretly replace his live decoy, that wicked guy would be furious and might even shoot Du Mo dead, no longer expecting any use from this partner. Lian Qiutong is already a very impulsive and easily provoked person.

If Lian Qiutong really knew my intentions, it would definitely affect my plan to assassinate this potential threat by surprise, thus greatly increasing my own danger.

"Bang! Bang! Crack!" The sounds of sniping from the island's walls were incessant. I suddenly stopped running. A sound like an M25 sniper rifle came from the island wall at the ten o'clock position.

I quickly climbed a large, lush tree and, through the dense foliage, peered through a very narrow gap in the sniper scope to spy on the sniper hiding in that direction. The

T-shaped crosshair swept back and forth across the verdant rock wall twice, immediately focusing on a patch of almost dark green leaves.

I knew perfectly well that the guy had used green branches to disguise himself while he was below the island. But in the heat of battle, he overlooked the subtle differences between the green of the vegetation on the mountainside and the green of his disguise.

These harmless imperfections, while indeed a useful form of camouflage for ordinary pirate warriors, were no match for him among the eight legendary assassins, especially the eleven pirate demons I hadn't yet met. He was destined to become cannon fodder.

A slight smirk played on my lips, my finger instinctively hooking onto the trigger. As long as this guy wasn't the Dumo I was looking for, he would be caught in the gears of my killing machine, finding his way to heaven through my bullets.

Through the sniper scope, a pirate soldier with thick lips resembling two burnt sausages hanging from his mouth, his triangular head adorned with twigs, stared wide-eyed at the corpse of his recently shot opponent, whose disguise he had just exposed.

His face, painted with paint like a toad's, held a hint of glee after the initial shock; he was excited about killing someone. "

Go see God, he'll tell you that by killing someone, you also exposed yourself; indirectly, you killed yourself..." I murmured silently, my lips glistening with tears, and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!" A blazing line of fire pierced the triangular head, now covered in glistening green twigs, with a whoosh, followed by a splatter of bloody brain matter.

I was instantly horrified, for the sniper's shot hadn't come from my rifle. As I locked onto the man, a pair of predatory eyes, like the Grim Reaper, scrutinized him from the island wall at one o'clock, and fired before I could.

I quickly jumped down from the tree, crouched low, and swiftly disappeared beneath a dense thicket of bushes. Now I needed to find a way to spy... I glanced at the guy who fired before me; his weapon also appeared to be an M25 sniper rifle.

Before confirming it was Dumo, I considered them all as potential targets for immediate elimination. I couldn't afford to be careless. As I peered at him, a corpse that had fallen from a high cliff lay nearby.

I pulled the body over, making him lie prone again on a moss-covered rock, and then placed a sniper rifle on him, making him appear alive and still feigning an ambush. The corpse 's

legs were broken, the lower legs held together by a skeletal remnant of flesh. I grabbed some grass to cover the bloodstains and then camouflaged myself behind the body.

Because the dense branches obstructed my view of the sniper, and I couldn't simply push them aside, I tied a small pebble to one end of the fishing line, carefully tossed it onto a branch, and then slowly pulled down the tangled branch to allow a sniper scope to peek out and see the target within range.

If there were any camouflage marks on the surrounding island walls... The sniper's sharp eyes detected a branch slowly bending and pulling down; his bullet would likely bounce off the corpse in front of me.

Even if he realized after hitting his target that he hadn't struck a living person and tried to scout around for a real, fresh body, I would deliver a "ticket" to meet his maker before he could fire a second shot.

The twig entangled in the fishing line bent and twisted like a snail's antennae. I bit the end of the line between my teeth, my murderous pupils once again pressed against the end of the sniper scope.

My T-shaped sights swept across the vibrant green plants, and I quickly spotted a slightly swaying vine. This vine was short and withered; its end wasn't a freely growing bud, but rather a severed branch, wrapped around a dark, gleaming gun barrel.

The living body controlling this sniper rifle was embedded in a crevice in the mountainside. I couldn't predict the thickness of that rock face, so I wasn't sure if I could kill him with a single shot. Moreover, I wasn't sure if that guy was Dumo.

The figure hiding in the crevice only had half a gun barrel sticking out; he refused to make any further movement.

Normally, I could simply wait patiently—half a day if not, two days if not—because I had plenty of food in my pack.

But now, I needed to buy time—time to rescue Dumo, time to assassinate the child lover.

"Bang!" A loud, muffled sound echoed overhead, and simultaneously, a white-hot streak of fire struck the rock face I had locked onto with my sniper rifle.

It was unmistakably the sound of a Barrett sniper rifle firing a .50 caliber M8 armor-piercing round. The thick rock face concealing the living body crumbled with a crash, and the sniper rifle, its barrel wrapped in vines, fell to the ground.

A body clad in dark green camouflage fell in a straight line in freefall. I tumbled down the cliff face. I quickly lowered the sniper scope, trying to see if the man shot was Dumo.

Chapter 370: A Strange Deerhide

My terrified heart eased only as my pupils picked up the information. The man shot was of yellow skin; I felt I'd seen him on the Sea Demon, but I couldn't quite place whether he was from Indonesia or the Philippines.

At this moment, I had to remind myself that before finding Dumo and killing the child lover, I had to survive. So, like a large lizard, I slowly crawled away from the area I'd disguised myself in with the pirate corpses, and crawled under the dense canopy of trees to another spot.

When I found a suitable position, I peered through the dripping raindrops from the branches at the man wielding a Barrett sniper rifle loaded with armor-piercing rounds, but after searching for a while,

I found no trace of him. A sudden shock ran through me. A man who could use such a sniper weapon and whose disguise was flawless was unlikely to be a pirate soldier; he resembled one of the eight legendary assassins. One of them.

However, the Love Prisoner wouldn't snipe the pirate soldiers on the Sea Demon. If the opponent was one of the eight legendary warriors, then he would either be a master of water or a ruthless slayer.

But then I thought again and dismissed my guess, because the Pirate King also had eleven Demon Guards under his command who could rival the Headhunter Clan. I had to be mentally prepared; if I encountered one of them, I couldn't be careless, and I couldn't engage in battle before I knew who my opponent was.

The sniper rifle's aim was always off target . Where was Fang's disguise? Or had that guy managed to slip away and disappear after shooting down a pirate soldier?

I pulled back my sniper rifle and continued my search for Dumo. Unexpectedly, just as I was about to twist and crawl back, a bullet whizzed down and shattered the head of the corpse I had just placed there.

Although the pirate soldier with the broken leg had been dead for some time, his hard skull still contained juicy brain matter, which, after being hit by Barrett's armor-piercing round, was still blasted to pieces. It was the same image of a head exploding.

This time, though I'd seen headshots before, it sent a jolt through me like an electric shock, making my heart pound.

I quickly turned and crawled back to lie on my back under the tree, slowly raising my Barrett sniper rifle and aiming it at the towering island wall, peering towards the source of the shot.

That guy was definitely not a pirate soldier; he'd hit two people in three minutes, and I could barely catch a glimpse of him.

When I was pulling the branch with the fishing line... The silk thread passed under the corpse's hand. Clearly, the guy using armor-piercing rounds had noticed this subtle change in the dense forest below the center of the island. I had to admire my opponent; his eyes were incredibly sharp when hunting his target.

At this moment, no matter how anxious I was, I dared not crawl haphazardly under the dense canopy as before.

Although many birds and beasts had been scattered by the gunfire, and moving under the greenery wouldn't attract the attention of snipers,

I couldn't guarantee that any seemingly lush, concealing canopy would be visible to the enemy from their vantage point as I crawled through.

Therefore, I had to take down the guy with the sharp eyes and superb camouflage, knock him off the rock face, to ensure my safety in the following actions.

I wasn't afraid of death, but I couldn't die. Yi Liang and Chi Chun were still on the pirate ship, and Lu Ya's whereabouts were unknown, whether she was alive or dead. Moreover, only I knew the location of the treasure chests hidden on the island's rock face.

Through these past few days, I've realized that the wealth in those boxes will bring me far more than just simple, basic comforts. That wealth was my, and Yi Liang's, lifeline in our final moments.

When Nine Lives Raven was on the deck of the Sea Demon, he told me that Fate Water escaped from his grasp because she used a terrifyingly deadly escape technique. Nine Lives Raven still doesn't want to recall that moment.

But I think Nine Lives Raven is deliberately exaggerating; he wants to bewitch me, to keep me forever subservient to mystery and terror.

When I killed Babatu in the Mud Forest, because I was injured and in a hurry to return to the Buale Apartments, I didn't have time to check the package I took from Babatu or the things stuffed in his pockets.

After returning to the Buale Apartments, because the Soul-Withering Conch is extremely alert, I never had the chance, nor dared to risk going to the rocks behind the building to find those things and examine them closely.

But after the fierce battle under the Sky Tree in the island valley, when I searched through the personal belongings of the Abi Feiseng and Boyue, I found a strange deerskin covered with crosses, circles, and wavy lines.

I guessed it might be a map. If I had time to sit down and examine it closely, it would surely be the location of the large sums of money Abi Feiseng and Boyue had earned as headhunters.

From this, I could infer that Mingzhongshui's escape was likely achieved by exchanging an astonishing amount of wealth for his life, while Xuanya secretly agreed to only take a few floating infant totems from Mingzhongshui's face and then faked his escape.

But why the hatred between them had accumulated so deeply, I had no way of knowing.

Chapter 371: The Cipher of Shattered Skulls
The sniper on the rock wall, after smashing the corpse's head, quickly disappeared into the lush green plants. I slowly crouched down under the tree, leaning the barrel of my sniper rifle against the trunk, and scanned the rock face at an angle, quickly analyzing its contours and unique features.

Although I still couldn't pinpoint the guy's exact location, I knew he hadn't gone far; he must still be on the rock face near where the gunshot had come from. So, I slowly withdrew my sniper rifle, lay prone under my jungle-green camouflage netting, and began to crawl back the way I had come.

Less than a hundred meters behind me, there were three or four pirate corpses lying haphazardly under the dense canopy. My heart pounded, and I crawled forward with extreme caution. At the same time, I slightly tilted my head back, straining my eyes to look up, carefully observing the trees around me, lest I inadvertently pass under the sparse foliage and be shot through the back by a sniper hidden on the cliff face.

Climbing to the pirate corpses, I slowly pulled them down one by one, onto the large rocks or bushes under the trees, and tucked their weapons back under their bodies, assuming a sniping stance.

Next, I laid fishing line under the corpses as a cover, and finally tossed a pebble, about the size of a goose egg, tied to one end of the line, into the treetop.

Once I reached a spot where I wouldn't be easily spotted from above, but where my aim was visible through the dappled leaves in a T-shape, I began to slowly pull the line.

At this moment, I couldn't allow the branch to twitch provocatively, as that would arouse suspicion and increase their vigilance.

So, I pulled the line slowly and gently, making the entangled branch appear to release a human-like intent, like a hand peeking through the branches.

"Bang!" Just as the branch bent to its limit, a dull sniper shot echoed from the rock face. Following a beam of white fire, my sniper scope caught a glimpse of a face covered in green leaves.

The man was crouching on the cliff face, hidden beneath a large bush. One eye was closed, the other hidden behind the scope. A glistening, wet barrel protruded slightly from the bush.

My heart skipped a beat, and my finger on the trigger instantly pulled, firing a bullet towards the cunning and enigmatic sniper's head, intending to shatter his skull.

Because the bullet hadn't directly killed the body beneath the branch, but instead struck a clump of bushes behind it.

Although a dead pirate sniper was indeed lying prone under those bushes, I couldn't be sure the man had fired because he'd seen the ambush behind them.

Perhaps he'd only seen through the camouflage of the first pirate's body and was firing at the dense green vegetation behind it, where a sniper might be hiding.

Because if you use fishing line to stretch out a branch of a suitable size, someone lying underneath wanting to shoot can only get a view by standing in a vertical line. If they are arranged horizontally, the view will be refracted like a chopstick inserted into water, thus affecting the accuracy of the shot. I knew in my heart that the guy hiding on the rock wall was cunning.

But when the bullet from my gun was halfway through its flight, I vaguely sensed something was wrong, and I quickly pulled back, lying sideways under the rock.

In that extremely brief moment, a blazing line of fire shot down from the green canopy-like tree crown and struck the huge granite boulder that was covering my body.

With the huge impact of the armor-piercing bullet, I felt my right ribs being violently slammed by the large rock, and I felt a sharp pain.

Fortunately, this marble boulder was not only wide and thick but also quite high. After the bullet penetrated the cover, it came down at a 45-degree angle from above my back, and the final impact point was 75 centimeters away from my left ribs.

A few drops of water slid down my forehead, indistinguishable between rainwater and the cold sweat I'd just broken out in.

It was clear that the head I'd shattered when I returned fire at the cliff face wasn't the real one. He was actually hiding behind a disguised corpse, and his shot that had hit the bushes behind that disguised corpse—if it had hit the bushes below the cliff face where it was uncertain whether it would have killed his opponent—even if I had been waiting to retaliate, I would most likely have been too pressed to see clearly before firing at the corpse in front of him.

The reason he hadn't hit me the moment he burst out of the line of fire was because there was also a pirate corpse disguised in front of me. In that extremely brief moment of hesitation and thought, I had time to extricate myself and quickly crawl back under the large rock.

I had to admit, I'd encountered another "Arhat" (a notorious figure in Chinese folklore). This guy clearly knew what tricks I was playing, and he was playing the same tricks on me.

He had just used a Barrett sniper rifle's large-caliber M8 armor-piercing round to penetrate the rock wall and kill the pirate sniper who was hiding there. Shortly after, he sniped at the pirate corpse disguised in front of me when I first used fishing line to pull down tree branches, smashing the corpse's head.

Only then did I realize that he was showing off. He knew all along that it was a fake, and the reason he deliberately smashed the corpse's head was to show off, to say, "Come out, kid."

A bitter feeling welled up in my heart. This was a big problem. I had encountered such a difficult opponent, and it was impossible to get away and find Dumo anytime soon. I might even lose my life.

The guy on the rock wall was indeed a master. At this moment, I dared not underestimate him in the slightest. Moreover, he was using armor-piercing rounds, and many of the large rocks and tree trunks around me that could have served as cover were no longer usable.

Now, I not only have to be wary of the green canopy-like tree above my head, not giving the enemy a chance to see my true form through the gaps in the branches and leaves; I also have to be wary of the cover I rely on when ambushing, so that it can avoid being penetrated by the enemy's bullets and not be directly killed.

Trying to use the camouflage technique again to lure the enemy into firing would not only be unlikely to kill them, but would also increase the risk of being shot myself. Therefore, I had to take a risk.

In fact, no matter how I engaged in a real gunfight, it was a risk. So, I decided to change my approach, placing the pirate corpse disguised in front of me behind it, while boldly lying prone in front of me.

Just as the stone with the fishing line was thrown onto the tree trunk again, I suddenly abandoned the idea, a sense of dread creeping into my heart.

As for whether the enemy would fire at the rear of the first imposter as before, I had no idea. In other words, the probability of me hitting them or being killed was fifty-fifty.

Given the current situation, I was far from being at the point of taking such extreme risks. Rescuing Dumo was important, assassinating the child lover was important, but I had to clearly understand that surviving to rescue Luya and Yiliang was paramount.

Furthermore, if Dumo is already dead, or if the current battle situation is far from the point where Lianqiutong is trying to force Dumo to his death, then blindly and mistakenly compressing my combat rhythm to such a high density would undoubtedly be suicidal.

I think I might not have yet recovered from the brutal fighting rhythm and tense mindset of the Shimadzu battle, or perhaps the terrifying experience on the cable car made me overestimate the ferocity of the surroundings.

"Hoo!" I let out a heavy breath, and the hand that was about to pull the fishing line suddenly gave up. I knew deeply that if I wanted to survive this pirate battle, my brain had to keep up with the constantly changing situation around me.

Since the opponents were of uneven strength and held a powerful sniping position, and there were many corpses around me that I could use and manipulate, I abandoned the idea of a head-on confrontation, giving him the illusion that I wasn't in a hurry, that we were taking it slow.

If that guy is a top-tier expert, a member of the Twelve Demons, then he must have many things to do in this mission in the Chagos Islands. The chance of him dragging things out in one place until the end is zero. Chapter

372: Purgatory's Only Elimination

The rain seemed to have stopped, but as I lay on the tree, water droplets continued to drip from the bright green leaves, hitting my brain and sending a chill straight to my heart.

I kept my eyes wide open, grabbing a small handful of dried shrimp from my pack, placing them beside my rifle butt, and slowly stuffing them into my mouth one by one, chewing them.

Evening quickly descended, and white smoke gradually rose around us, looking like a thick fog was about to form. If that were the case, everyone hiding on the island would have to endure the dampness and cold of the night.

Of course, apart from things like hot water bottles, no one would dare to hide in a cave and light a fire unless they didn't want to live. But I planned to do that, and I didn't want to die.

The light grew dimmer and dimmer; at any time, rain and fog could not stop the arrival of darkness. Darkness is not frightening; as long as it brings convenience to those who want to live well, it is a symbol of justice.

On this Chagos Archipelago, in this hellish feast akin to purgatory, there is no good or evil, only who kills whom. I have long known, and deeply know, that no matter how much bitterness I harbor, how noble my kindness, once I am killed, these thoughts, like tree roots absorbing nutrients, can no longer be embellished by human justification.

Mountains are still mountains, water is still water; no one wants to know what hope a murdered person still holds in their heart. This is the law of hell; I was forced into it.

And on this archipelago, the daytime seeps, the more brutal the fighting becomes; the light that breeds darkness is the most terrifying.

Gunshots come from afar; though I cannot see them, I am not numb. I am very familiar with the image of a bullet shattering a skull.

Hidden in the darkness and chaos of the forest, I crawled forward, clinging to the dark rocks and damp grass, my backpack laden with my luggage and sniper rifle.

Relying on my memory from before nightfall, I made my way to a large cave near the base of the mountainside. It was actually just a crevice formed by weathering, about two meters wide. I had glanced inside when I ran past during the day; the entrance was covered in thick vines, so I estimated the cave to be about three or four meters deep.

Water droplets continued to fall from the branches overhead, keeping my neck constantly damp. The packs of the pirate soldiers I had killed during the day, who had fallen from the island peak, were gathered one by one in the dark, and then dragged into the cave.

My hands were already rough and cold as I carefully crawled into the cave, clinging to the scattered rocks.

Once I felt I had dug deep enough, I pulled a small, pocket-sized flashlight from my luggage, covered the bulb with a prepared red cloth, and switched it on with a snap.

Using this tiny red light, about the size of a ping-pong ball, I began rummaging through the packages I had collected from the pirate soldiers. These guys' packages contained many trinkets, but what delighted me most were three small metal bottles filled with foreign liquor to ward off the cold and rheumatism.

Because each package was waterproof and contained medical supplies, I mixed the iodine tincture and alcohol and poured it over the dry clothes I had gathered from the packages.

Although the outside world was damp after the rain, the cave was relatively dry. I used my dagger to cut down several thick tree roots or old vines that had died on the rocks, draped them over the clothes, and then surrounded them with stones.

I then dragged in the corpses of three pirate soldiers, straightened them, and had them sit facing each other against the rock wall, each with their backs against a stone and an SVD sniper rifle in their arms.

As for the third pirate soldier's corpse, I laid him face down on a large rock closer to the cave entrance, then gave him a sniper rifle, making him look like a sentry and giving those watching from outside the cave the illusion that three people were taking turns keeping watch.

At the same time, I held several fishing lines upside down and hung two hand grenades, one high and one low, on the cave wall.

After everything was arranged, I took out a copper-colored windproof lighter and suddenly ignited the pile of clothes soaked in iodine and alcohol. Before the firelight could even half-illuminate the cave, I quickly climbed out.

Following the thick hemp vines hanging over the cave entrance, I slung a sniper rifle over my shoulder and swiftly climbed up. At a height of about ten meters from the entrance, I braced my heels against a slightly protruding rock ridge on the cave wall, disguising myself there unnoticed.

The fire inside the cave, gradually igniting, began to glow a faint red light that illuminated the dark entrance. I knew perfectly well that the mysterious and dangerous man was still hiding on the nearby rock walls; he hadn't left.

Since he was both strong and intelligent, I couldn't confront him directly. Instead, I had to use his strengths to kill him.

A constant stream of sea wind blew in through the island's opening, filtering through the already damp leaves, making it even colder. On this island, on this night, every body not yet a corpse longed for the warmth of the fire.

And that mysterious and dangerous man, undoubtedly skilled and daring, was likely to infiltrate the cave to kill the pirate soldiers hiding by the fire.

That mysterious and dangerous man must know that the pirate king's men, who had ambushed him on this island, were mostly dead. The only pirate soldiers whose numbers were uncertain were those of his mortal enemy, Jason Jody.

Therefore, if a fire appears in the cave, it means someone is trying to warm themselves to get through the cold night; most likely, it's an enemy he hasn't yet killed.

In this hellish battlefield, no one is allowed to escape the torment of darkness, fear, and cold while others seek comfort. Anyone in this battle who can't keep up, who can't endure it, will die; death is the only exit.

So, I lit a warm fire, while my own living body endured the torment against the rock wall. I blinked constantly, the cold mountain wind making my eyes dry.

The firelight at the cave entrance below, though warm, was no longer for the living; it was a ghostly light, and anyone who approached would die—die by my hand.

An hour passed. I felt the shrimp in my stomach were almost digested. Protein, for resisting the cold, was far less useful than a chocolate bar. I chewed a piece of sweets and crumpled the wrapper into a small ball, stuffing it into a crevice.

Suddenly, I felt several green vines on my right side tremble. It was unlikely a mountain monkey or snake had crawled by; I thought, it must be him, he'd come.

Chapter 373: Gathering the Will-o'-the-Wisps of Death

My heart began to pound. From the unusual movement of the thick hemp vine, I could tell that the creature was climbing down the rock face to my left, less than two meters away.

Because the rock face behind me was slightly concave, my body was able to lean slightly, hanging on the rock face like an inlay. I leaned back as far as I could, and with my left hand, I secretly grabbed a hemp vine hanging from above and bit it hard, so that when I had my hand free later, my center of gravity wouldn't easily slip off the rock face.

"Hiss, hiss, whoosh..." A creature panting heavily was gradually getting closer and closer to me from above. I could tell that he had frozen stiff high up on the rock face and was now frantically climbing down. His rapid breathing was disordered, or more accurately, filled with a kind of fear, as if something was chasing and biting him.

My heart, pounding in my chest, gradually calmed down. I could tell he wasn't that mysterious and dangerous expert, but a pirate soldier fleeing in the darkness.

I guessed he was most likely a pirate from the Sea Demon, who must have seen the mysterious man who killed so many with armor-piercing bullets while lying in ambush on the rock face during the day.

He must have realized that the man's disguise was a trap within a trap, a deception that kept him guessing and completely unpredictable. So, this pirate soldier finally realized that fighting him would be certain death; he wouldn't fare well.

Therefore, he abandoned the fight. He probably crawled into some crevice in the rocks, or smeared blood on his face and body, lying under corpses and pretending to be dead, persisting until now, trying to escape that "living devil" in the pitch-black night.

"Hiss, swoosh." This frantically fleeing man was indeed freezing; he hurriedly climbed down, sniffling the frostbitten snot from his nose. I remained lying on the rocky wall in the night wind, a hemp vine between my teeth, my eyes darting sideways in the shadows, watching the pirate soldier like prey approaching, waiting for him to crawl past me.

As he crawled, he kept looking upwards, as if the only enemy on the island was the one he feared most.

Just as the pirate soldier's shoulder came to level with mine, I swiftly drew a sharp dagger from my left shoulder with my right hand, grabbed the hemp vine from my mouth with my left, and pushed off the rocky edge with my heels. My body, like the other half of a clamp suddenly closing, shot up behind the pirate soldier.

Hah! "A gasp escaped the man's lips, a sound like a cry about to be uttered but then a sudden loss of balance. This was like a person in their most fearful and insecure moment, suddenly struck by terror, before they could even utter a heart-wrenching scream, before the terror coursing through their nerves could be released, as if their life had been snatched away.

A sharp dagger was thrust under the man's neck, pressed firmly against his throat, and with a lightning-fast, heavy slash, a cut was made.

After my right hand completed the killing motion, I quickly grabbed the hemp rope, and used my knee to brace against the pirate soldier's body, preventing him from collapsing." I regained my balance, hooked my feet around his armpits, and tossed him aside.

A dull thud echoed from the dark mountainside; his body slammed into a clump of bushes. Because of the whistling mountain wind, the sound of a corpse hitting the ground was almost imperceptible unless one listened carefully.

Having killed this pirate strongman, I swung back to my previous position, lying in ambush once more, waiting for that mysterious and dangerous fellow to approach the cave where the firelight flickered faintly.

The sea breeze blew even more fiercely from the island's gap, but it couldn't penetrate the mist-shrouded night, nor could it dispel this cruel... The fighting couldn't chill my heart, which was as hard as ice.

I was soaked to the bone, clinging to several thick vines, quietly leaning against the rock wall. Another hour passed, and as I swallowed my second high-calorie chocolate bar, I suddenly felt the vines I was holding twitch, as if these thick plants had suddenly come to life as giant pythons.

A chill, like countless needles, instantly spread across my spine. Based on the terror this strange movement brought me, I could vaguely sense that this time it must be that mysterious and dangerous guy who had finally decided to accurately kill the pirate who was hiding in the cave warming himself by the fire for the night. Soldiers.

Another tremor ran through me from the hemp vines I was holding. I quickly and slowly released the vines, gripping the stone wall with both hands.

When I raised my chin and peered up at the dark, windswept rock face above, I could hardly see through it, much less pinpoint the humanoid shadow swaying there.

My greatest wish was to hold onto the vines with one hand and rest my sniper rifle on them with the other, so that when the crawling fellow bumped into my muzzle, I could fire a bullet to tell him, "You've been tricked. You're finished." "

However, this idealistic approach is completely impractical. I have no idea which vine he'll grab. What if he grabs the same vine as me? How could someone of his strength not sense something amiss and become suspicious?

Besides, it's pitch black up there; the naked eye can't see up at all. Blindly firing would only alert him and negate the advantage of using the trap's illusion.

In fact, doing that would be more dangerous than waiting for him to fall into the trap before engaging him.

I gripped the rock wall tightly with both hands, slowly testing my footing on the rock face, gradually shifting my body to one side to avoid the guy coming down and to avoid being in a straight line with him.

When I was about five meters away from where he came down, I pressed myself against another slightly uneven rock face and continued to peer sideways into the darkness above.

If the rock face I was on were a little more comfortable..." I could pull out an FN57 pistol and fire three shots into his head when he was parallel to me.

But the rock face was slippery after the rain, and if I let go of even one hand, I might suddenly tilt and fall. More importantly, I wanted to use this flickering cave to kill as many people as possible so that the child lover could eventually come over.

Therefore, I tried to avoid using loud weapons. When that guy climbed to my level, I wanted to pounce on him immediately and stab him through the back.

But my movements were very restricted at this moment. That guy's reaction should be very quick and agile. If he kicked me back halfway through my attack, I would definitely fall to my death.

So, I could only cover myself under the hanging vines, grip the rock face tightly with both hands, and watch him with my eyes hidden in the darkness, watching the guy I was going to kill.

Chapter 374: The Big Shot in the Trap

The sea breeze kept blowing in from the opening of the island, rustling the countless hemp vines that stretched along the rock face as it passed over my dark head. I still unconsciously held my breath, afraid that the dangerous creature slowly descending would discover me.

I blinked repeatedly, my cold eyes only able to make out a blurry figure, like a bear arching its back as it climbed down a tree.

Although I couldn't tell if it was one of the eight legendary assassins or one of the twelve demons, its agile movements confirmed its formidable skill.

As I glanced down, the mysterious and dangerous creature had already quietly descended to the cave entrance, dragging itself along the vines.

I slightly bent my neck, lowering my eyes to gaze into the darkness. After its feet touched the ground, it darted to the side and sprawled on the dark, damp rock. Like a crocodile poised to attack, its eyes were fixed on the cave, which reflected the faint light of the fire.

I knew he was counting the number of people inside, assessing the level of security. The firelight in the cave was dim, and the pirate soldiers slept with their eyes closed at night, making the use of corpses to disguise the sleeping living perfect for the situation.

The guy observed for a while before reaching into his back pocket; I guessed he was pulling out a pistol or a silencer, intending to kill the three inside with minimal noise. Then, the dark figure lying on the ground cautiously moved towards the cave entrance.

Seeing that his attention was completely focused on the hunt, I dared not move my hands from the rock wall, gripping several hemp vines to slowly lower myself down. Since I couldn't see, I could only rely on my ears to sense what was about to happen inside.

"Whoosh, whoosh whoosh." Suddenly, three powerful yet slightly deafening silenced pistol shots rang out from inside the cave, carried by the rising mountain wind, instantly reaching my ears.

I imagined the scene unfold in my mind, guessing that after his silenced pistol struck the heads of three corpses, this guy started walking inside, trying to examine the scene.

Seizing the opportunity, I quickly slid down a considerable distance, grabbed the fishing line pre-tied to the rock wall, and pulled hard, detaching the grenade's tether.

"Boom, boom." Two bright red flashes erupted from the cave, followed by the explosions of two grenades. If that guy had been standing in the cave, his head would have been riddled with shrapnel in an instant; if his center of gravity had been low, he would have been covered in wounds. Even if he wasn't deaf or blind, he wouldn't be able to function as a human organ for several minutes.

Like a paratrooper released from a helicopter, I grabbed onto several thick vines and slid down just in time.

Just as my feet were about to land on the rocks at the cave entrance, that guy suddenly stumbled out from inside.

Taking advantage of the moment my body was suspended in mid-air, I pushed off the rock wall behind me and kicked the guy in the head with my right foot.

This mysterious and dangerous man had his hands covering his face; I couldn't be sure if he was blind, but his cheeks were definitely riddled with shrapnel, covered in bloody welts from serious injuries.

Just as my instep was about to strike the back of his head, he suddenly shifted his body and kicked me in the lower back. Clearly, he knew he had been ambushed and tricked when he ran out of the cave.

Taking the kick to the lower back, I quickly released the hemp vine I was holding and crouched down on the ground. Although I hadn't managed to knock him down with one kick, the force of his counterattack clearly showed that he was extremely weak; his body had been severely damaged by the explosion.

"Hmph hmph hmph hmph..." I turned my head, letting out a cold, low laugh. “I have a feeling you’re one of the Twelve Demons. Now that you’ve fallen into the hands of my Nine Lives Raven, it’s time God invited you for coffee.”

Before the firelight from the cave completely dissipated, I glanced at this guy. He was incredibly tall, his camouflage netting having fallen onto the nearby rocks before he entered the cave. Only his once-green, almond-shaped face was now sticky and black.

A spherical object hung from his right eye socket; I knew clearly it was his eyeball, blown out by the violent explosion. Even if it were put back in its socket, he wouldn’t regain his sight.

On his tattered shoulder, I saw the same epaulettes as Jason Jody’s—the unique rank of admiral on the Sea Demon: two bars and four tassels.

So, before the Pirate King returned to the Sea Demon with his eleven guardian demons, it was the only highest-ranking admiral rank on the pirate ship.

"Hmph! A legendary headhunter? Are you sure you can kill me?" Despite his severe injuries, the man's will to die was unwavering; he seemed to still possess the strength to fight me.

Seeing that he was blind in one eye, his chin still twitching defiantly as he spoke these words with disdain, I became suspicious. I feared he might suddenly use some rare technique to escape right under my nose.

Even if such a slim chance existed, he would seek revenge later, and Nine Lives Raven would be in for a while.

Now that I had infiltrated the Eight Legendary Assassins, I naturally needed to learn from my mistakes and absorb and utilize what they inflicted upon me, actively improving what I could, constantly transforming and enhancing myself. Only by keeping myself in a state of constant change and development could I survive in any unpredictable battle.

"Hmph, you think I'm the only one staring at you right now? Hmm!" As soon as I finished speaking, I twitched my chin, as if signaling to another companion hiding behind this guy, urging him to strike suddenly and kill this one-eyed fellow.

Sure enough, before I finished speaking, the guy with his right eyeball hanging on his cheekbone suddenly turned his neck to the right, looking at the dark bushes behind him.

His right eye was blind, and because it was newly blinded, he was not used to the change in his gaze and needed to turn his head quite a bit to see.

I wanted to lure him into making this move, and seizing the opportunity, I leaped towards him. As I jumped, my right hand flashed out from my left shoulder, the blade aimed straight for the guy's throat.

Although he was missing an eye, his reaction speed was surprisingly fast; he twisted his left hand outward and grabbed my wrist with a snap.

Chapter 375: A Metal Contract
I knew that although this guy was seriously injured, he was still quite skilled, so I didn't use this thrust as a real attack. Instead, during the twisting motion, I secretly gathered brute force in the back of my left foot and delivered a powerful groin kick.

I felt my right wrist, which he had been holding, suddenly loosen, and then I exerted force again, aiming for his throat. However, immersed in the most excruciating pain a man can experience, he had no idea that I was using a feint. My left hand

swiftly drew the dagger tucked into my left shoulder and sliced it across his throat.

Even the toughest man, the most powerful guardian of the demon, at this moment, should fall and receive the caress of the earth.

In the joys and sorrows of humanity, he was dead; but in the cycle of nature, he was simply returning to the earth, from where he grew, and back to where he came from.

Before the man could fully collapse, I grabbed his bleeding neck, dragged his still-moving body, and scurried towards the dark thicket.

I knew perfectly well that the explosion must have alerted the other snipers hiding on the island, and I had to disappear into the shadows before they dared to notice.

Dragging a warm corpse, I crouched low and hunched over, running quickly yet cautiously through the damp bushes glistening with water droplets.

I only stopped when I was hidden beneath a large, leafy canopy of trees, blinking in the darkness, trying to see my surroundings but seeing nothing.

"Huff, huff…" I panted heavily, starting to feel my way along the foot of the mountainside. After walking quite a distance, I found another crevice in the mountain.

I first kicked the corpse I was dragging into the crevice, and finding it safe, I crouched down and went inside.

The space inside wasn't large; the crevice was only a meter wide and less than two meters deep, but that was enough for me to shelter from the night wind, warm myself for a while, and examine the corpse beneath my feet.

To increase safety, I went out and broke off some branches to completely cover the cave entrance before returning to the cave. I turned on the small, red beam of my miniature flashlight, about the size of a ping-pong ball, and searched the corpse for useful items and information.

The two epaulets on the shoulders of the cold body lying at my feet were quite distinctive. Since I hadn't examined these items closely on Jason Jody, I cut them off with my dagger.

Shining the red beam of light on them, I saw a thin metal plate hidden inside the epaulets. I cut it open with my dagger and took it out. Several lines of English letters were embroidered on the metal plate. I examined it carefully for a while before I could roughly understand its meaning.

These pirate epaulets indicated rank on the front, but the metal plate inside was stamped with information similar to a military tag. This guy was indeed one of the twelve guardians of the Sea Demon, his code name being: Demon's Bloody Lamb.

Judging from his birth date, he should only be forty-six years old, similar to Jason Jody's age. Among the eight legendary assassins, their average age was only twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

Looking at the epaulets in my hands, the fear that welled up inside me was even stronger than when I killed him. Because, when I read the last sentence, I realized that there was a pact between the twelve of them, signed: The Sea Demon Pact.

Although I couldn't understand much at once, the general meaning was that if any of the twelve guardians were killed by human hands, the remaining eleven demons would avenge him and bury his remains.

Because the metal plate inside another epaulet was covered with strange patterns stamped on it, I stared at it for a long time, still not understanding its meaning. Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind, and fear surged into my heart like a tidal wave.

I think I've roughly understood something; these twelve pirate demons, to ensure their pact was kept, didn't rely on any oath or vows made to some deity.

Instead, they used a divided map, ensuring that each person protected their own share of the immense pirate fortune while also bearing the responsibility of protecting the collective wealth. This inevitably formed a powerful and robust network of relationships.

If anyone died, their share would be shared among the remaining demons. However, this sharing wasn't free; it was actually a substantial commission, hiring the surviving demons to avenge them.

The phrase "burying the bones" likely refers to finding one of the two epaulets, which would unlock the treasure. No wonder the Pirate King couldn't easily kill Jason Jody, one of the twelve demons.

He dared not break the contract, so only through this method could he eliminate a major threat without being killed by the remaining eleven demons.

Jason Jody used this to restrain the Pirate King. At this moment, I sat alone in the cave, the longing for Luya and Yiliang like a strangling hand, tearing at my heart. Read the full text of the novel at www.16k.cn(16k.cn.literature.net).

I told myself that as long as I wasn't shot down, I must not let my emotions defeat me. No matter how bitter or heavy this bond was, I had to grit my teeth, endure it, and bear it.

I was tired, so very tired. I leaned against the cold, hard rock, and everything went black before my eyes. I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander freely like a flock of sheep without a shepherd.

I had no interest in the pirates' wealth, yet I was helplessly drawn into it. I let my thoughts wander: perhaps, there was no true pirate king at all. Rather, these twelve demons were taking turns ruling.

Or perhaps, there was a true pirate king, and any one of the twelve demons who wanted to monopolize the wealth and survive would have to kill everyone else in the pact. Jason Jody was the one who wanted to do just that.

After this pirate war, the victors would certainly collect the corpses of every dead pirate demon, searching for the important medal on their shoulders. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but shudder again. I closed my eyes, which were just about to drift off to sleep, then opened them again; darkness still shrouded my vision.

A sense of dread rose within me . I suspect that this little-known, brutal pirate war was actually a conspiracy, a conspiracy to eliminate most of the demons and obtain the epaulets. Perhaps the Pirate King and Jason Jody are the real masterminds behind this conspiracy.

As the saying goes, "Many people work, few eat." They might have seen the pirate wealth accumulate to a certain level, so they started this bloody battle before dividing the spoils, hoping to have as few people as possible.

Chapter 376: The old man crouching under the stone
was freezing cold. The wound on his wrist, where Bo Yue had bitten off a piece of flesh, throbbed even more faintly in the darkness and cold. Pain.

I took out a small bottle of liquor I'd salvaged from the pirate soldier's corpse from my bag, unscrewed the cap, and took a few sips, hoping the alcohol would numb my body and warm me up, helping me endure this excruciating night.

My clothes were soaked through from the rain, so I remained motionless; the alcohol hadn't raised my body temperature.

I was conflicted. Between day and night, one's thoughts inevitably shift from rational to emotional. I hoped Dumo was still alive, and that he hadn't died at the hands of this guy called "Blood Lamb" before I arrived.

"Bang!" A clear sniper rifle shot suddenly rang out from outside the crack in the mountainside, hidden by tree branches. This was followed by the swift sound of running footsteps, mingled with the sharp, whistling night wind.

My tightly closed eyelids snapped open. Though all I could see was darkness, I knew in my heart that a man carrying a sniper rifle had just run past the entrance to the cave where I was crouching.

At this moment, I completely abandoned sleep. This was a night of purgatory, a night that tormented the human body; how could it allow rest, an end to this brutal slaughter?

Since the cold and dampness prevented me from sleeping, and now a living being had run past me, disturbing my closed eyes in the darkness, then he would die by my hand.

I gripped the sniper rifle tightly in my arms, my back pressed against the rock wall, and quietly rose, slowly moving towards the entrance of the cave.

"Whoosh, whoosh," came another sound of flesh rushing through the dense branches, like someone chasing after the guy who had just run past.

I slowly parted the branches obscuring the cave entrance with two fingers, peeking out furtively. The whistling mountain wind immediately swept past my nose; outside were clumps of bushes, like rolling black shadows.

Tonight, not a single twinkling star could be seen, let alone moonlight. The tall tree canopies cast no dappled shadows; I could only vaguely make out a dark figure disappearing behind a large tree twenty meters away.

It seemed that the explosion inside the cave when I hunted that Blood Lamb had indeed attracted the pirate soldiers hidden elsewhere nearby. If Love Prisoner hadn't encountered Blood Lamb before me, then the person appearing now was most likely him.

Because, given his strength, the chances of him still being alive after a whole day of fighting were extremely high.
Although the mountain wind was whistling, every pair of ears perked up in the darkness on this island was still very sensitive to any other unusual sounds, not missing even the slightest difference.

I slowly pushed aside the branches blocking my view, crouched down, and crawled out of the cave with my sniper rifle in my arms. "Bang!" Another dull but clear gunshot rang out from the bushes ahead.

The running shadows were now obscured by the plants. I followed quickly and cautiously, but I still didn't know if the guy chasing me was Lian Qiutong.

Bang! Another gunshot rang out, which made me realize their current location. However, the two men's chase was heading deeper into the center of the island, where the plants were even more towering and lush.

I followed closely, trying not to let them notice me, but also not to let the two men get lost. In the darkness, the dense vegetation became suffocating the further I went, as if I had suddenly shrunk to a third of my former size, jogging through a sea of wheat as tall as myself.

Moreover, there were many unpredictable large rocks underfoot; if I ran fast and wasn't careful, or if I was unlucky, my knees would slam into them, causing excruciating pain, yet I dared not cry out.

If it was a higher rock covered in vines, which I perceived as a clump of plants I could squeeze through, I would crash into it with a loud thud, either tearing off a layer of flesh from my nose or collapsing to the ground bleeding profusely.

On these densely scattered islands, the fighting could last for days and nights. If one suffered external injuries and couldn't leave in time to seek medical treatment, the result of being slowly worn down to death was the same as being shot directly.

Like the Withered Soul Snail, she was now hiding in a stone coffin-like cave, conscious but her body enduring the darkness and pain in a state of dormancy.

I couldn't continue tailing him. The terrain ahead was unfamiliar. The guy in front was running desperately to escape, while I was at the back to kill. It wasn't worth the risk; I had to be rational.

Before I came to this island, I had seen it from the summit of the valley island, covered in towering trees. This island had only one gap, the only way out without climbing over the rock face.

But the guy in front was running into this basket-shaped pass, destined to face a cold, damp, towering mountain wall, disappearing into a dense, crowded sea of vegetation.

Although vines climbed the wall and trees grew in the crevices, the fleeing man dared not climb it now. He was being watched closely by someone who wanted to kill him.

Even in the pitch black of night, if a dark shape moved on the rock face, the one who had caught up to him and was hiding in the shadows would decisively shoot him in the lower back.

I crouched down behind a large rock, clutching my sniper rifle. This provided shelter from the wind, allowing my body heat to linger a little longer.

I knew perfectly well that, regardless of who was chasing whom, neither of those two would dare climb the rock face to escape in the pitch-black night.

If the stalemate continued until morning, with sufficient light, they would be even less likely to climb, as they were already locked on to each other. All

I needed to do now was wait—wait for dawn, wait for a victor to emerge and become my victim. And I would be the fisherman, hiding in a secluded spot, observing the struggle between the two.

Even if the one being chased might be Dumo, I couldn't rashly venture deeper. What if the pursuer was Lian Qiutong? He had been hiding on the high rock face during the day, meticulously observing this seemingly dead-end corner through his sniper scope. With his skill and the advantage of the terrain, it was possible, and quite likely, that he could eliminate both Dumo and me simultaneously.

Chapter 377: The Suicide Squad Under the Vines

I must not underestimate my enemies simply because I have killed one of the eight legendary assassins. The deaths of the Avici Monk and the others made me realize even more clearly that no matter how much strength a person's body possesses, once they take a reckless risk and are unlucky enough to be shot, everything is over.

Water dripped continuously from the branches leaning overhead, but I couldn't slowly raise a hand to break them, because after dawn, they would increase their density of obscuring me. So I had to endure it and let it drip.

The dawn light didn't come suddenly; it was even later than usual. The sun rose from the edge of the shimmering sea, its light spreading across the surface before clumsily climbing the rocky walls around the island, finally allowing us, the fighters with our sniper rifles, to regain our sniping range.

The dense, crowded vegetation around us, its rich green hue, began to faintly reveal itself. In truth, this place was also a battlefield for plants. They crowded together, inseparable from one another, yet vying for limited shade and dampness, and boundless sunlight and space.

That night, though I closed my eyes several times, I couldn't sleep. I slowly raised the sniper rifle I was holding, peering horizontally around to test the range of my sniping range.

The lush, verdant plants seemed to be rolling and growing; I could barely see a living enemy lurking behind the branches ten meters away.

The closer the combat, the more important it was to camouflage myself. The large rock behind me was covered in green vines.

At night, I had thought it was branches dripping water overhead, but now I realized they were vines clinging to the rock, climbing up to the adjacent branches to get more sunlight.

This growth pattern created a natural camouflage net over my head. I drew a dagger from my shoulder, cut the vines beside me, and rewound them around the sniper rifle to repair the camouflage.

Meanwhile, I also draped myself in many of these lush, verdant plants to make myself look more like a shrub and blend better into the environment.

The two guys from the night were now hidden among the plants ahead. The gunfire between them, which had suddenly ceased after one side went silent, had not been heard again.

Now that it was daylight, the fighting had returned to the direct, kill-on-spot approach. The distance between me and the two of them wasn't too far; we were roughly within a radius of less than sixty or seventy meters.

I tried to slowly crawl on the ground. Even if there were corpses of pirate soldiers nearby, I wouldn't dare to search for or utilize them in such a confined hunting space.

I held an FN57 pistol in my hand and began to crawl in little by little. I wasn't doing this to kill either of them, but to survey the surrounding terrain and make necessary assessments.

There were many jagged rocks all around. These large, broken rocks were ancient, as evidenced by the moss and tangled plants covering them. I dared not crawl vertically any further, fearing I would fall into an ambush.

To get a better view of what lay behind the jumbled rocks, I cautiously and slowly climbed a few meters to the left. However, to my surprise, instead of the deathly silence of the camouflage, I was confronted with a dense mass of green, swirling beneath a canopy of vines.

The two creatures, I don't know when, had been fighting, one of them gripping a sharp dagger, gritting his teeth as he lunged for the other's chest.

Because it was only early morning, and the dense vines overhead, the light was still dim. I blinked rapidly, squintd, and peered again.

A large, shiny black head was forcefully pressing against the chin of another creature lying on its back on the ground. At the same time, the large black head riding on top held a sharp blade in its right hand, struggling to stab its opponent in the stomach beneath him.

That large black head was Dumo, fighting a powerful pirate under the Pirate King's command. I no longer knew whether he was the one chasing the pirate or the pirate was chasing him.

At this moment, I should have rushed over to help Dumo and kill the guy together. However, I absolutely couldn't do that, because this was a battlefield, everyone's nerves were stretched to the limit, and even teammates wouldn't rashly pat each other on the shoulder in such a situation.

Seeing that this shiny black kodo beast was still alive filled me with indescribable joy, and the words, "Dumo, hold on, I'm coming to help you," churned within me, but I couldn't utter them.

First, I wasn't sure if other enemies were lurking around; second, my sudden appearance might distract Dumo and cause him to die instantly.

The brutal fighting had continued for so long, and the surviving pirate soldiers were all incredibly skilled. But I couldn't just stand by and watch Dumo fight to the death with someone of similar strength, making him take such a fatal risk.

I quickly grabbed the sniper rifle from my back, tore away the grass in front of me, and carefully positioned the weapon. At this tense and crucial moment, I wouldn't dare risk using only a pistol, as it might hit Dumo.

But the sniper rifle was different; the bipod in front of the barrel kept the weapon firmly planted on the ground, and the bullet only needed 0.1 seconds to shatter the target's head.

"Phew!" I let out a long breath, instantly calming my anxious heartbeat. The T-shaped crosshair in the sniper scope slid through the gaps between the jumbled rocks and the low-lying green plants, finally focusing on the target's head lying on the ground.

The pirate soldier was also black, but not as muscular as Dumo, so once pinned down, it was difficult for him to use his waist strength to flip over.

Dumo's neck was tightly gripped by the man's right hand, and his chubby face, smeared with camouflage paint, was contorted with rage.

Due to suffocation and the pain of being gripped, the blood vessels in Dumo's eyes and forehead were on the verge of bursting, his two large, blood-red eyeballs seemingly about to pop out of their sockets.

Dumo's left hand gripped the man's left wrist tightly, preventing him from releasing all his strength, otherwise his Adam's apple would surely be crushed with a crack.

Meanwhile, the pirate soldier pinned down was also tightly restraining Dumo's right wrist with his left hand, preventing the sharp dagger Dumo was holding from piercing his abdomen.

"Bang!" A dull, piercing bullet suddenly ripped through the damp air, pierced the cracks between the rocks, and then, through the jagged, mottled grass, skimmed the ground and burrowed into the skull of the man locked in a desperate struggle with Dumo.

Dumo, choking and on the verge of vomiting, shuddered violently. Before he could react, his opponent beneath him was reduced to half a mangled, bloody head in the blink of an eye, while Dumo's face was covered in a sticky mess of flesh and brain matter, like a bucket of mud. The

moment the bullet left the barrel, I aimed my scope at Dumo. Before Dumo realized it was me who fired, he would have been terrified.

Because, without even wiping the blood from his face, he would have scurried behind a large rock like a startled grasshopper.

Only then, with his heart pounding with tension, would he have had time to think about such things.

Chapter 378: Retrieving the Lost Black Beast

Dumo fled with lightning speed, hiding behind a large rock. After his extreme shock, he must have considered two possibilities.

First, I might be in the same trench as him, which is why I fired a sniper shot to help him kill his opponent, but he might not know that the person helping him was me.

Second, if he couldn't dodge in time, a second sniper bullet would blow his head off. Like two mischievous children fighting, one gets slapped on the back of the head by his parents, and the other, just about to gloat, gets slapped on the back of the head as well.

This was a fatal guess. Although Dumo was usually carefree, he wouldn't dare to be careless at this moment. He remained hidden behind the rock, not daring to reveal a trace of his body.

"Hiss, hiss, hiss," I imitated the sound of a bamboo rat, just soft enough for Dumo to hear. This sound contained a hidden code; after a while, Dumo cautiously responded with the call of an African bird.

His ventriloquism was terrible, and the birds on the island had long since fled their nests, frightened by the heavy, muffled gunfire. At this moment, anyone who used bird calls to signal and was overheard by the enemy was sure to be a doomed bird.

Of course, Dumo's response was also very soft, so soft that I could barely hear it. My eyes remained pressed against the sniper scope, waiting for Dumo to peek out.

However, from behind the large rock obscuring the gleaming black kodo, a small, flat, shovel-shaped lens slowly emerged, twisting and turning, trying to shine its light in my direction.

I didn't find Dumo funny at all; on the contrary, he made me feel reassured. If this guy hadn't been so cautious, I probably would have only found his corpse.

"Hmph!" A slight smile curled at the corner of my mouth behind the sniper scope, and a cold laugh escaped my nose. This laugh was of joy that Dumo was still alive and had been found.

The small lens he held out, like a curious little brain, twisted and turned several times before finally illuminating my sniper rifle, which was covered in vines, and myself, who resembled a pile of weeds and vines.

Through the scope, I could clearly see the playing card-sized lens. The image reflected on it was slightly shaky, but I could still vaguely make out a round, black nose and Dumo's large, yak-like eyes, straining to look upwards.

I released my left hand from the gun, raised a little finger, and bent it every three seconds. This signal was something Dumo and I had secretly agreed upon when I left the Buale apartment; even if the guys on the Sea Demon saw it, they wouldn't understand its meaning.

I then used my right index and middle fingers to make a scissor shape and cut my little finger, as if to tell Dumo, "You're in danger. You've become cannon fodder, like a gecko's tail."

Dumo saw this and could no longer contain himself. He quickly pulled back his small glasses, fiddled around behind the large rock for a while, re-disguising himself, and then crawled towards me, his heart pounding but his movements slow. Now, he was finally certain it was me.

"Mr. Chasing Horse, Mr. Chasing Horse, I'm here…" Dumo almost spoke through his throat, at the decibel level of a mosquito buzzing.

His face was covered in blood, his eyes red as if he'd been up for three days and three nights, but the glistening liquid in his pupils made him seem more like a child who had suffered a great injustice.

"My God! How could it be you! To meet such a benefactor as you, Dumo's life isn't so bad after all, haha." I didn't look at his face anymore, only greeted him with my ears.

The light overhead grew brighter, and it seemed the sun's rays would soon climb to the top of the rock face and pour down.

So, I lay back, carefully observing the density of the spreading vines above, lest I unknowingly expose myself amidst the shifting light. If I encountered another sharp-eyed individual, it wasn't a matter of how dangerous the situation was, but rather that I'd be shot dead.

"Hmph, I thought I'd only be able to cover your corpse after coming here!" I rolled over, finally managing to glance at Du Mo.

Dumo's crimson eyes were now even more red, the light in his pupils swirling and flashing rapidly. He hurriedly raised a hand to wipe the blood from his face, but I knew he was trying to squeeze out the tears welling up in his eyes so I wouldn't notice.

"Hehe, I waited until Mr. Chase arrived, now little Dumo feels more at ease." Dumo raised his forehead, blinked a few times, and then chuckled, trying to recapture the carefree, shrewd Kodo beast that had appeared before me.

I knew he was in turmoil; he seemed to only now understand the true meaning of the gesture I had given him when we braved the rain to descend from the deck of the Sea Demon that night.

This massive pirate battle was unprecedented and brutal in my life, let alone for Dumo, a member of the elite pirate force. Not only were the eight legendary headhunters involved, but the unheard-of Twelve Demons were also among them.

Now that we're in, until this battle is over, no one can escape except death.

The most captivating aspect of this war isn't the danger of the assassins and guardians involved, but the truth and the unknown secrets.

Even now, I can't predict whether killing each person I've killed will contradict my ultimate goal.

This contradiction is terrifying, especially in the crucial final moments. If the ultimate goal of a key figure being killed is fundamentally aligned with my interests, then lacking that element will derail the potentially resolvable situation—that's called failure at the last hurdle.

But no one will tell me anything, no one dares to ask. Asking would prove I know things I shouldn't know, which would only invite certain death.

Therefore, I can only act swiftly, blending in between Jason Jody and the Pirate King, subtly weakening both sides to minimize the trouble and difficulties I ultimately face.

If, in the end, as I suspect, the Pirate King and Jason Jody are the masterminds behind this pirate war conspiracy, then I've become the catalyst for their true goal.

"Dumo, where's that guy with the painted face?" We were still lying prone on the ground, heads close together, talking. When I mentioned the Child Lover, Dumo's brow furrowed, as if a sensitive memory had suddenly flooded his mind.

Clearly, even though I hadn't gestured to Dumo to make him understand he was a pawn in this pirate war, he already knew why the Child Lover had become his partner. This time, the Sea Demon completely chilled Dumo's heart, chilling him to the bone.

And I, finally, had a suitable candidate whom I could completely trust to develop and utilize. His Doguwa and my Luya had a sliver of hope for a return.

Chapter 379: Restoring the Value of the Tail
"Mr. Chase, if I had half your skills, I'd kill that guy. Last time I left the Buale Apartments and returned to the Sea Demon, the moment I boarded, I saw this guy—he was incredibly terrifying."

Dumo paused, as if a sudden pain had caught him off guard, then he grinned, his lips still stained with blood.

But he quickly continued in a low voice, "Honestly, I am a little afraid of him. I think they come aboard just to earn their commission. As for me, I'll treat them well, make do, and let them get paid and leave. Anyway, Jason Jody pays, it's not my money."

Hearing this, I felt a pang of pity for Dumo. He wanted to live, like everyone else who wanted to survive. But he didn't know what it was like to deal with these guys who were detached from human society.

Dumo was only a 22-year-old black man. Although strong, his experience compared to these guys was limited to poverty, hunger, war, and discrimination.

That dark thing, evolved from humanity yet detached from it, was something he had never yet ventured into. To him, it was like a lost black forest, an ancient, evil temple buried in a bottomless abyss.

He couldn't reach it anytime soon, yet he was like a small boat lost in a turbulent sea, involuntarily swept to the entrance by the whirlpool, unable to enter.

Therefore, Dumo now truly understood the feeling of bewilderment and helplessness that could destroy one's will, causing his soul to wander within his body—yet all of this was inevitable.

During the days he was forced to live with the Soul-Withering Conch, Dumo cleverly used his most adept "weak and submissive disguise" to please the woman, smoothing out the distance between them and placing himself in a safe position.

Because the difference in strength between him and the Burmese woman was too vast, a clever weakling could only act this way; Dumo, at his relative level, was already quite wise.

However, like the child lover, once the other party doesn't cooperate, he wants Dumo's death to achieve his own benefit. At that moment, all of Dumo's feigned weakness is insignificant in the child lover's value judgment, not even comparable to a flimsy piece of paper.

Dumo doesn't want a direct confrontation because he's no match for the other party. But since he wants to live, he must actively seek out or dig out greater benefits and exchange them with what the other party wants. Moreover, this process must be quick, making him weigh the pros and cons before the other party makes a move.

This digging is cruel; something must always be endured, like a gecko shedding its tail when in danger. It's also tearing away its own flesh to survive, but when the party wanting to eat it clearly believes that the gecko's whole body is far more valuable than the tail it sheds, this is a fundamentally similar kind of danger.

So, when this gecko has nowhere to escape, its only hope is to bite its opponent to death, even if it means death. For the sake of millions of geckos, to restore the value of their tails. This must be done decisively, just like you can't point a gun at someone before deciding to shoot them dead.

Horizontally, Dumo doesn't understand these things; he's trapped in this framework, which is very pitiful. But vertically, although I understand these things, I'm also trapped in this framework, unable to break free. I'm pitiful too.

"Hmph, not spending your money? Jason Jody pays? Where did all that amazing wealth in his pocket come from? Wasn't it all stolen by countless Dumos? Don't forget what others have put in your pocket, especially something important."

Dumo grinned exaggeratedly again, licked the dried blood from the corner of his mouth, and spat it out with a frown. "Pfft! Hehe, Mr. Chase, look at you, I know I've chosen the wrong profession. Right now... ouch!" Dumo felt another

pain in his body. My heart sank, knowing that Dumo's pain wasn't the same as the pain he felt when someone's mouth was swollen from being slapped and he still couldn't help but joke around.

"Are you hurt?" I asked in a low, cold voice, leaving no room for excuses from Du Mo.

"Ouch..." Du Mo deflated like a punctured balloon, letting out a heavy sigh of resentment that had been building up in his chest.

"That bastard who wouldn't even be welcome to clean toilets for demons in hell, I really hate him..." Du Mo's emotions surged, and a sharp pain shot through his body, stopping his rage.

"To put it simply, if we want to leave these islands alive, we have to race against time now," I said softly, my eyes constantly darting upwards, watching the dense, thick vines overhead.

The sunlight outside changed constantly with the rising and setting of the sun; if there were skilled snipers hiding on the surrounding rock walls, they would be able to deduce the target's location based on many basic principles.

For example, shrubs that thrive in sunlight rarely grow in areas where it doesn't reach. If some reckless guy were to stick branches and leaves of sun-loving plants all over himself and then hide in the shadows, he'd be close to being shot.

"He cut me," Dumo said, his playful expression vanishing instantly. He swallowed hard to calm his turmoil.

From Dumo's bobbing Adam's apple, I saw numerous deep cuts and bruises crisscrossing his thick, dark neck, the rotting flesh gaping haphazardly outwards.

This wasn't the kind of superficial wound torn during a street fight; it was the damage inflicted by a burly pirate soldier in a desperate struggle for survival, trying to strangle his opponent to stay alive.

I knew perfectly well that Dumo meant the boy who had slashed him—a cut that had not only ripped open Dumo's flesh but also wounded his heart.

This pirate war was inherently a bloodbath, and no matter how bloodshed it escalated, Dumo had to grit his teeth and face it, because he understood the meaning of cruelty.

However, Dumo had tolerated his old captain, Jason Jody, who, despite his usual dislike for Dumo and even his extreme withholding of his rightful share of the loot,

never expected that Jason Jody's true purpose in pairing him with the "Prisoner of Love" was to use Dumo as cannon fodder, to kill him.

This forced Dumo to realize that after cooperating with him, Jason Jody had come to see him as unreliable and no longer someone he could use.

Even though, in terms of affiliation, the "Prisoner of Love" was an outsider, while Dumo was a regular member of the Sea Demon, the old captain, no matter how harsh, should at least have some consideration for their past relationship and shouldn't have used such insidious means to kill him.

This made Dumo feel discriminated against and humiliated once again. Not to mention how much attention and preferential treatment Lian Qiutong, Xuan Ya, and Menluo received on the Sea Demon, even I, a desperate mercenary who was kidnapped and forced into the crew, received far better treatment from Jason Yodi than Du Mo—a qualitative change indeed. Therefore, the Sea Demon had shattered Du Mo's heart.

Chapter 380: The Mechanical Blind Spot of the Flesh

I made Du Mo turn his head to show me the cuts on his body. Du Mo gritted his teeth, his mouth agape, like an old, clumsy tortoise, and carefully pulled open the clothes at his left waist.

Crimson, filthy blood had soaked the bandage covering the cuts, turning it black and damp. The surrounding dark, shiny flesh was swollen to an extreme purple.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, I think I'm badly injured!" Du Mo, like a patient with his buttocks exposed waiting for an injection, faced me with his round, bulging head, speaking in a low voice.

"Hmm!" I glanced at him coldly and responded indifferently. "I really didn't expect this. I was hoping to win that guy's favor so he'd take care of me during the fight."

I looked up at the vines above me. The chill of the morning light seemed to only now seep through the vines. I couldn't help but lick my cold lips, trying to regain the warmth, then channeling that feeling into my brain, letting it spread to every corner of my body.

"I took care of you with a stab." As I finished speaking, I noticed Dumo trembling slightly. He was like a wounded bear, his body fat no longer able to keep him warm.

"Go there, crawl over there, I'll clean your wound again." Dumo hummed in agreement, slowly moving his limbs. We crawled one after the other into the larger pile of rocks where the vegetation was more lush.

Because when crawling, even if we accidentally or unavoidably bumped into the rocks, it wouldn't cause them to shake like when we touched the plants.

"Ouch! Ouch..." Du Mo groaned, his body and mind now relaxed. The pain from his wound was sharp and piercing as he tried to move again.

"Mr. Zhui Ma, you have no idea how cunning and terrifying that guy is. It's utterly appalling. At first, he told me to follow his orders and lie in ambush two hundred meters in front of him."

As I listened to Du Mo, I removed the bandage from his wound. Although the cut was badly swollen, there were no signs of infection yet. Fortunately, Du Mo had cleaned the wound himself with iodine tincture.

"You know what! To quickly eliminate the enemy, he actually made me hide under a big tree, using a rope to make the branches sway, attracting those hidden snipers."

Dumo swallowed hard, his back twitching twice, and continued, "When I looked into his terrifying red eyes, I didn't dare refuse him, but I knew in my heart that even if his sniping skills were superb, I was the one taking the risk. Who knew which sniper as terrifying as him was hiding on this island? If something went wrong, I would be finished, but what would he lose? At worst, he could just order other pirate soldiers to take my place. Hiss..."

Dumo said, sounding aggrieved and complaining. When I used tiny tweezers to hold a cotton ball soaked in iodine tincture and wipe the inside of his knife wound, he immediately shuddered and stopped talking in pain.

"The location of your injury is very unusual. Unless your skull and arm can be turned inside out, even with enough medical kits, don't expect to treat the wound yourself."

The stitches on Du Mo's wound looked like those on a scarecrow used to scare away birds in a rice paddy—roughly and haphazardly sewn.

Of course, this wasn't because he was clumsy or careless; he simply couldn't reach it properly, which is why he stitched himself up in such a terrible state. But I already knew why the Love Prisoner had stabbed him in that spot.

"At first, I tied several ropes to several trees, but I never dared to pull them. I was so hesitant. The fighting was incredibly fierce then, with sniper shots ringing out everywhere. Everyone was terrified of missing a detail in their disguise and was too busy hiding to do anything else. I was the only one forced to do something so stupid."

"The wound is clean now. I'll stitch it up again with a hook. Bear with it, don't cry out in pain." The hook-like suture hook, gleaming silver, was held in my small tweezers and placed against Du Mo's torn skin.

To maintain the disguise and avoid making any unnecessary noise, I had to prepare Du Mo mentally before each step.

"Okay, Mr. Zhuima, please stitch it up. It doesn't hurt at all. It hurts so much that I can't even feel my own flesh anymore. I still want to talk to you to distract myself and use the anesthesia as a substitute."

I looked up at the sky and around me again, trying to squat down and curl up into the shape of a stone so I could properly stitch up Du Mo's wound.

“Originally, I didn’t want to be stupid enough to pull those ropes. Who knew which bullet, blind as it, would whiz down from the dense canopy and hit me, damn it.”

Dumo spoke, but the sensation of the hook digging into his flesh still lingered. He grabbed a branch tied to the camouflage net, bit it, and continued, his words mumbled, but I understood.

“So, I picked up my sniper rifle and peered at that guy’s position, hoping to gauge his opinion and see if it was really necessary for me to take such a risk. But what happened? I barely saw his silhouette before he fired a shot. My God, that’s when I realized there was no room for negotiation. He was angrily warning me that if I didn’t do as he said, he would kill me, depriving me even of the chance to try my luck.”

Dumo suddenly stopped, his hunched back twitching slightly, as if he were choking back tears. "This isn't a partner at all! He's making me his cannon fodder! What kind of bastards did Jason Jody hire?!"

Dumo burst into tears as he spoke. He hadn't cried earlier, but the resentment remained, etched into his memory. His heart wasn't hard enough, so it shattered. My heart was ashen; though I shed tears, it would never break again.

"Hiss, hiss..." Dumo sobbed, his eyes brimming with tears, his round, chubby black face a mess of tears.

"In the end, I had no choice. I couldn't just run away. He stopped using gestures to communicate with me and started using the barrel of his gun to point at me instead of his fingers. When I realized I was locked onto by his sniper scope, I could only find a heavy rock, hide underneath it, and grit my teeth to pull on the ropes."

"Dumo, do you know that in the international headhunting market, among those assassins who operate across borders and continents, there are eight legendary figures? And the man with the painted face is one of them, secretly known as: Mad Cage - Child Lover."

Chapter 381: Half of God's Face

My words shocked Dumo even more than the pain of stitching up his wounds. He immediately wiped his tear-streaked face, turned his round head, and stared at me with wide, bull-like eyes.

"Hmph, you pulled those big branches, you must have attracted a lot of sniper fire," I said coldly, hoping Dumo would continue so I could subtly probe the details of the child fetish through our interaction.

"Oh dear! It wasn't just a lot of sniper fire, it was like being mowed down by a machine gun. Have you ever heard the drumming sound coming from a big rock? Those bullets were like the frantic drumsticks striking the drumhead during a solo, even more so."

"Hmph!" I chuckled coldly, then shook my head helplessly. I figured the rain of bullets Dumo described were mostly from SVD Drano, M25, and M40 snipers.

Those drum-like sounds, while intense, weren't exactly terrifying. If the large rock behind the cover made a dull thud, and was hit by a Barrett armor-piercing round, it wouldn't be hard to tell which was more durable—human flesh or marble.

"I was hiding behind a huge, violently shaking rock. It felt like an island earthquake, like the sky was falling and the earth was splitting apart. At that point, all you could do was pray to God to spare your body. Who would dare think about surviving? I had such a strong urge to pee, I almost did!"

I stitched up Dumo's wound and injected him with an antibody serum. Then I opened my pack and took out a small bottle of liquor for him.

Dumo's face, still raw from crying, looked like a coal miner who had just crawled out of the ground. When he saw me open the pack, he guessed I was giving him something, and his bull-like eyes bulged out.

"Eh? What's this good stuff?" Dumo blinked, his mood finally showing some improvement.

"It's to warm you up. The alcohol content isn't very high, you can have a little." Before I could hand it to him, Dumo almost reached out and took it himself.

"Hehe, good stuff. This little metal flask is really exquisite. I've never seen anything like it on the Sea Demon!" Dumo said, tilting his head back and taking a swig. He was indeed terribly cold.

"Ah...that feels good!" Dumo smacked his lips a few times, then licked the bottle opening with his tongue. "Damn it, I'm never going back to the Sea Demon, never again." A

new hope seemed to surge in Dumo's red eyes. I packed up my medical supplies, preparing to take Dumo away from under the cold, damp vines.

"Mr. Chase, don't rush, let me catch my breath. You've been up all night too, you should rest for a while." Hearing Dumo say this, I felt like I had forgotten my fatigue, but forgetting doesn't mean it's gone, it doesn't mean that what's been hidden has automatically disappeared. In the end, it will only come back stronger.

"Hmm..." I leaned my back against a cold, damp stone, resting my head on it, and finally let out a heavy sigh of relief. My eyelids could finally close peacefully for a while.

"Dumo, what do you think are the characteristics of a child pedophile's murders?" I asked wearily, half asleep. " Him

? He's terrifying. Those enemies hiding on the rock face were all shot down by him within ten minutes. As for me, I was curled up under a big rock, and it felt like a 'rain of corpses' was falling from the sky, with many pirate soldiers' bodies whistling and crashing down. After a while, the rock next to me finally stabilized, and the sniper shots stopped hitting me."

I didn't open my eyes, but my brows furrowed involuntarily. "Get to the point, what kind of disguise did he use, and how many guns did he carry?" Du Mo was silent for a moment before continuing.

“Mr. Zhui Ma, to be honest, I don’t know. When he was shooting people, I didn’t dare look at him. I could only rely on my instincts. I always felt that if I looked at him a second time, he would definitely shoot me dead.”

Du Mo was right. Let alone the child lover, if I were to use a live target as bait and he kept looking in the direction I was hiding, I would also decisively shoot him dead.

Because doing so was necessary, a helpless necessity, just like when Du Mo did it, it would indirectly expose the child lover’s disguised location. Even more so, Du Mo could shoot him dead at that moment.

“Mr. Zhui Ma, there’s another dangerous guy on this island we’re on now. He might also be one of the Eight Legends. That guy actually used armor-piercing bullets to shoot at the big rock I was hiding on. Look at my face, chest, and arms, they’re all from being hit by flying debris.”

I was very tired and only slightly opened my left eye to take a quick look. Below Dumo's cheekbones were scratches from cat claws, and his chest was covered in welts, red and purple, as if crawled by poisonous insects.

"That huge, hard granite rock, it just shattered like a cucumber with a knife, with a muffled thud. Luckily, I was careful; instead of crouching behind the rock, I lay down in a crevice at its base, and that's how I

survived. I truly saw half of God's face then." The sky was beginning to clear, dappled sunlight filtering through the dense vines, warming even the feet.

At this point, gunfire around the island where Dumo and I were was only occasional. Those shooters were mostly the last remaining pirate soldiers, their strength not to be underestimated.

"People always say, 'Those who survive a great calamity are destined for good fortune.' I had a feeling, Mr. Chasing Horse, that you would come to save me. I truly believed it then. In this world, on this vast ocean, if I were to sever all ties with the Sea Demon, you would be the only person I could truly be close to."

Du Mo took another swig of his small bottle of liquor, shrank his trembling neck, and continued, "In those movies, when people are shot and dying, they all call out for their mothers, as if summoning the opening of a door to life to take them back. Du Mo has been orphaned since childhood; how could he remember who his mother was or what she looked like? In my mind, there is only you. The days spent with you, though arduous and exhausting, are the most beautiful memories of my life."

Du Mo began his long speech again. At that moment, I had no time to consider whether he was using a submissive facade to flatter me or if it was a genuine outpouring of emotion.

“From the moment that armor-piercing shell shattered my bunker, I didn’t want to kill anyone for anyone else anymore. I only wanted to see you. Only with you could I kill with purpose, and understand who I was living for.”

Although I was exhausted, I could tell that Dumo was missing Duoguwa. In his heart, he had always longed for sincere friendship and true love. He was somewhat like me, which also reminded me of Luya.

“Mr. Zhuima, let me tell you! Don’t laugh at little Dumo for being so spineless. I really didn’t want to die at that time. Seeing those corpses falling from the high cliff, I was so scared… so scared…”

I found his stammering annoying, and I finished his sentence for him. “So scared that you peed your pants.”

Du Mo immediately fell silent, remaining so for a long while before continuing. "I stripped the bullet-hole-ridden clothes off those corpses and put them on myself. I then pulled out a dagger and cut flesh from those guys, stuffing it under the bullet holes in the clothes. In case of enemy sniper fire, scanning through a sniper scope, or someone running past me, I'd make them think Du Mo was dead, that the fighting was their problem, and that I was lying here by myself. Although it's not as comfortable as sleeping in a big bed, I have food and drink. I'm willing to endure this hardship; as long as I'm alive, that's enough."

The weariness in my mind continued to churn violently, and the heavy burden on my heart remained like a strong thread, hanging painfully from my brain.

“I won’t laugh at you. You did the right thing. You should have played dead and avoided the fight, leaving the arena of death to Lian Qiutong and that guy who used armor-piercing bullets.”

Du Mo, hearing that I wasn’t laughing at him for his lewdness, revealed his pale white teeth again, but this time his smile was more like a grimace.

“That’s what I was thinking, but I never expected that bastard Lian Qiutong wouldn’t fight that guy. As dusk approached, I planned to wait until nightfall, sneak up in the dark, and run away. The packages on those corpses all contained food, and the shelf life is long. If you hadn’t come, I would have found a rock cave to hide in and lived there for a year or two. I don’t believe I couldn’t outlast them.”

“Hmph!” Du Mo’s idea made me sneer again. Although he was exaggerating, that was only an ideal scenario. After all, he wasn’t a stone. He couldn’t guarantee that he would be completely still. He needed to eat, he needed to metabolize, and he needed to endure the psychological torment.

"But I never expected that the child lover would sneak up in the dim light just before nightfall. I saw him approaching through my half-closed eyes. But you know, I can't be disguised as a corpse while holding a pistol. I have to expose my bare hands so that I won't get shot during the 'corpse testing' when others examine me."

At this moment, Du Mo, leaning against me, patted his still-shaken heart with his chubby black hand as he spoke.

Chapter 382: The Wounded Thief Stealing Light in the Dark

"I really wished I could turn into an ant right then and there, even if I could never be reborn as a human again, as long as he didn't see me. But that bastard actually attached a bayonet to his rifle and stabbed those corpses one by one."

Du Mo said, spitting out a small sip of liquor, as if to calm his tense nerves.

"Hmph, Lian Qiutong isn't to be underestimated. He's seen things you and I have never seen. Even if you're incredibly sleazy, you can't escape his notice when you're faking death amidst a pile of corpses. Otherwise, he wouldn't be alive today."

I said to Du Mo with a calm and helpless expression. The exhaustion in my body swept away my mind like a whirlwind; I was on the verge of falling asleep.

"You have no idea how conflicted and terrified I was. Seeing his bloodied bayonet about to stab me, the nerves in my back almost convulsed like a zombie, making me sit up abruptly. I really wanted to kill him, but I couldn't beat him."

A look of unprecedented despondency crossed Du Mo's face. Now, perhaps he understood better the cruel reality of realizing how little you have when you need it most. If Du Mo had actually sat up suddenly then, given Lian Qiutong's speed and reflexes, he would have shot him dead.

"When that bastard walked up to me, he suddenly stopped calmly. Oh my god, my heart was pounding in the pan! To better disguise myself as a corpse, I half-opened my mouth, widened my eyes to the maximum, and rolled my eyeballs back like a dead fish's eyes. Like this."

As Du Mo spoke, he even mimicked the way he had pretended to be dead to deceive the pedophile. I half-raised my left eyelid again and wearily glanced at him.

"That bastard! He just squatted down in front of me without moving and stared at me. I... I... I held it in, but I felt my eyeballs getting dry and hot from the mountain wind, like they were about to snap off my optic nerve. I couldn't take it anymore and finally blinked."

Hearing Du Mo's tense account, I couldn't help but laugh at his comical antics, which slightly eased my heavy drowsiness.

"Hmph, you're too subjective. This disguise might work against ordinary pirates and strongmen, but against the legendary Child Lover, it's just burying your head in the sand. He's clearly deliberately provoking you, toying with your nerves and mind. First, he stabs the corpse with a bayonet, scaring you half to death, then suddenly inflicts fear upon you. You should know why he's called 'The Mad Cage.'

" Du Mo, hearing my words, became even more agitated. "Yes, yes, that bastard is absolutely insane. I feel like he's mastered something more terrifying than death. He seems to find killing people too dull, or perhaps too merciful. This bastard is so deserving of death."

I slowly opened my eyes, surveying the path leading away from the vine-covered layer. "Yes, so he didn't stab you to death with one blow. Instead, he slashed your left waist at night, letting you die slowly, making you feel endless fear before you die."

The Love Prisoner was truly insidious and ruthless. He didn't want Du Mo to die quickly, so he made a deep cut in a blind spot on Du Mo's body. This cut was meticulously crafted, leaving the person half-dead, like the torture of being impaled on a wooden stake in the dark side of human nature, suffering endless torment before finally dying three days later.

Du Mo would have a hard time stitching up the wound himself, especially since it was nighttime and pitch black. Du Mo was practically just waiting to die with a medical kit in his arms. And this was a killing spree; Du Mo dared not light a campfire to illuminate himself, even just to be able to see his wound.

However, the Love Prisoner was so cunning. He knew that if Du Mo lit a fire at night, he would definitely be shot dead. If Du Mo didn't light a fire, he would have to suffer a slow, agonizing death while clutching his bleeding wound.

To lure the Demon Lamb, I set up a pile of will-o'-the-wisps inside the cave. The light was incredibly tempting to every pair of eyes hidden in the darkness on the island. However, this warmth and light were like the beauty of a poppy; whoever succumbed to it would die.

At that moment, Dumo didn't care about any of that; he had no choice but to risk

his life to sneak over and steal the light. I think it was after I dragged the Demon Lamb's corpse into the bushes that Dumo, taking a gamble, quietly entered the cave and, in a state of extreme tension and danger, roughly stitched up his wounds.

It was there that he was discovered by another guy who was also drawn to the light, and the two began a chase.

"Mr. Chase Horse, I've started to hate this fight. I hate every single one of them. I swear, when I've mastered the skills, I'll personally kill that bastard. Because the harm he inflicted on me went beyond just the physical."

"Oh?" I responded with a single word, and seeing Dumo's righteous indignation, I felt a surge of energy.

"After I blinked that one time, I knew I couldn't keep up the act anymore, so I lay there sobbing, waiting for him to finish me off. But then, he suddenly seemed like a different person. He helped me sit up, comforted me, and told me not to be sad. He said there was nothing in this world worth being sad about, that everything is in the cycle of reincarnation."

Du Mo paused, as if he didn't want to continue. His Adam's apple bobbed again, and after a moment's hesitation, he continued.

"I thought he came to rescue me, that I had misunderstood his intentions, so I apologized to him, saying I was too cowardly. I didn't expect him to be so capable, able to protect me while also shooting down a large number of enemies. He smiled for a while and asked if I had a lighter or any lighting equipment. He said it was getting dark and we needed to find a cave to hide in until the next morning. I didn't think much of it at the time and just took out my lighter and a small flashlight for him."

I interrupted Dumo and said, "Did he ask you to collect the packages from the surrounding corpses and throw them down the cliff face, saying that you could retrieve them later if needed, and that others wouldn't be able to use them?"

Dumo was taken aback. "Huh? Mr. Zhuima, how did you know? That bastard did exactly that. After we finished, he told me to sit down and rest for a while. But at that moment, he sat behind me and unexpectedly slashed my lower back, then kicked me hard in the back of the head. By the time I was barely conscious and the excruciating pain subsided, that bastard had vanished."

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