Special Forces Medic

Chapter 958 927: Unreliable Consensus-Builders

"Ah! Such an answer is a bit bloody." Although wearing Miao attire, the tattoo on his wrist betrayed his identity. He let the wolf cub go, allowing it to gnaw on the corpse's innards, while staring fretfully at the person. "Mr. Clown, what's the best way to handle this?"

His face changed faster than flipping a page, and after the wolf cub had 'elegantly' feasted, the clown produced a small bottle, sprinkling it on the corpse, which dissolved every bit of flesh and bone with the acrid acid.

Behind the illusion hides the truth!

There was always a grey-haired 'large dog' by Xiao Lin's side, its long tail dragging on the ground, its sharp face mirroring its master's solemnity, moving with elegant steps, keeping pace with its master's rhythm, wandering everywhere.

Its name was simple yet odd, and it invoked strange anger in two people upon hearing it, while its master was incredibly delighted—this was his dark humor, a symbol. Its name was 'Crow', a fiercely loyal 'large dog.'

However, it was curious that the fact the second person in the village had died did not faze anyone's nerve endings, and no one even mentioned this person. Xiao Lin stood on high, overlooking the village below, smiling slightly. A dead person is quite a good warning, and indeed a decent hint; what he was waiting for was this slight tension—now the first has died, and he was keen to know how many more it would take before seeing the person behind the scenes, something the clown wouldn't do, but the level-seven code would certainly execute.

A rustling sound emerged, and Miao Shaoqing came out of the bushes. "Young Master Xiao, Elder Miao wants to meet you."

"Now is not the time," Xiao Lin shook his head, pointing at the village beneath. "Do you know how many people Mu Rongyun has placed here waiting for Elder Miao? If I go to meet him now, all those in the village will die."

"You've been here over a week without contacting the outside world."

"Pass a message to Elder Miao for me, only the village or the people can be saved."

"What are you planning?"

"Once he hears it, he'll naturally understand. Shaoqing, your purpose is to protect Elder Miao, so the rest has nothing to do with you." As soon as these words were spoken, the 'Crow' beside Xiao Lin had already darted out, a scream suddenly piercing the air. "It's already unsafe here—inside or outside, quite a number of people gathered two days ago; your village head betrayed you."

"I understand your meaning, and I'll deliver the message to Elder Miao."

Xiao Lin followed Crow's sound to the corpse, the jungle filled with the scent of herbs, patting Crow's head, handling the body before continuing onward.

Fourth Master! Ha ha.

The key to luring the enemy lies in strategy; whoever stays composed gains the advantage. Within a strategy, there is always a third-party collaborator, a role meant to be attacked, used, or betrayed.

Most wouldn't know how many people disappeared from the village, but the village head knew well, so he was the most anxious one, watching as these people vanished one by one yet unable to properly point it out—this made him as agitated as an ant on a hot stove.

And this ant was targeted by Yelu Shou, who occasionally stoked a fire beside him, watching him frantically dance, as Yelu Shou playfully fanned the flames.

"Village Head, why do I feel like there are fewer people in your village?" Holding a teapot, Yelu Shou lazily approached the village head, addressing him with a voice everyone could hear, observing the surroundings' reactions, capturing everyone's expression. Truth be told, he admired the level-seven code's insight—thus far not a single mistake in killing, and the remaining individuals evidently were starting to become restless.

"Oh, I sent them down the mountain to procure daily necessities; the village's supplies are running low." He had repeated the same statement several times—saying it again was like slapping himself.

"Young Master Xiao tasked me with passing on a message—'Aware of the circumstances is wise'—next it'll be your turn." Yelu Shou chuckled, hopping away from the village head, nearing a villager, wrapping one hand around his neck, leading him into the bushes, eyes cold as ice.

The person was silently grabbed by black hands from the darkness, and amidst the silence, bones snapped.

The village head watched Yelu Shou emerge from the bushes, mouth agape, no one behind him—it was the final warning, the next would be himself. Terror suddenly climbed into his heart, and the ant could no longer sit still, sneakily heading towards the rear mountain.

The mountain path was difficult to navigate, yet he moved quickly, as if racing against himself. Heavy breathing echoed in his ears. Suddenly, he stopped, sensing the looming shadows of the trees around him, and warily pulled out his hunting rifle to survey his left side. Animal cries sounded; the foliage shook more violently. A few squirrels leapt up the trees, climbing higher. The village head retracted the gun, exhaled a breath, and continued forward, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Maybe he was being overly cautious. He glanced back at what lay behind him and suddenly leaped up the rocky cliffs, agilely scrambling to the edge of a precipice and slipping into a cave.

The cave was quite high, approximately four or five meters, and instead of being damp, it was exceedingly dry. A rather pleasant fragrance permeated the cave air. The village head's face turned slightly red as he stood at the entrance, like a youth experiencing his first stirrings of emotion. He slowly ventured further in, unaware of the eyes trailing behind him—a pair of eyes starkly unlike human eyes emitting a cold light.

"Stop!" A middle-aged man blocked the village head's path.

"Lao Zhao, let him come in!" a deep voice sounded, as a monochrome white mist wafted out from inside. The white was pure and beautiful, starkly contrasting the cave surroundings. A slender figure reclining askew atop the whiteness, her striking black eyes fluttering, lips parted slightly, releasing gentle wisps of smoke. "Village head, you must have something important to discuss, coming here at this hour."

Fixated on her visage, the village head remained deaf to the woman's words. His gaze roved across her alabaster skin, a voyeuristic examination of the woman ahead of him. He surely had never in his lifetime seen such a clean, pure woman—her unparalleled beauty still retaining a baby-like innocence. He never thought he would have a day combining forces with such a woman.

The woman stood, blatantly under his lustful gaze. She swayed closer to the village head, pale smoke issuing from her mouth and wafting onto his face. Her slender fingers caressed the man's neck, the cool, slippery feel akin to a serpent startling the village head into sudden clarity. Yet, his constricted throat gradually losing breath, under that beautiful visage was immense wrist strength. Held high, the village head began convulsing, feebly gasping sounds escaping his mouth.

"Master, it's not time to kill him yet." Lao Zhao intervened at the critical moment, stopping the woman's intent to kill. As her fingers loosened, the village head fell to the ground, gasping large breaths of fresher air. A mere instant earlier and that woman would have ended him.

"Fool!" The woman scrutinized the village head from above, her angelic countenance momentarily transforming into a fierce specter, intimidating the village head into dropping his head. He shivered, retreating a few steps before kneeling.

"They've all been dealt with. If this goes down further, I'll be next." Truly terrified, the village head babbled nonsense. His head buzzing, that throttling sensation lingering on his neck. His eyes wide with fear.

"So, what?"

"I hope Fourth Master can think of something. Those people are truly hard to provoke."

In a flash, the white shadow was before the village head, slender fingers lifting his chin, revealing a beautiful smile. "How could I bear to let you die so easily? Lao Zhao, the cat-and-mouse game has been played long enough. Follow him down; it's time we made an appearance. The old man will undoubtedly show himself tonight."

The village head, still under the beguilement of the smile, hardly realized when he was dragged out of the cave. "I warn you, if things get botched and they don't act first, I'll take your life myself." Lao Zhao threatened alongside the village head.

Entering the village, under an eerie atmosphere, the village head returned to his bamboo house. He no longer concerned himself with those peculiarities, lying on the bed, stroking his neck where he'd been throttled. The lingering fear sent him bolting upright, vomiting into a basin until bile emerged, providing a slight relief. Embracing the nauseating basin, he wept aloud; the Grim Reaper had been very, very close.

The door creaked open, a foot stepping inside.

"Who?" The village head raised his head, pupils painfully dilating. "How, how could... it be... you..." The overturned spoiled contents polluting the air in distress.

"Long time no see, Xiao Jiu." The aged voice slowly rose, calling his name, each syllable slurred as if tearing at the village head's cerebral nerves.

"No, impossible! You can't be alive!" The village head covered his ears, closing and reopening his eyes, hoping he was seeing an illusion. "Ah, no!"

Under the village ablaze with emptiness, no one would hear the village head's cries. At an unspecified time, the village inhabitants had vanished entirely, leaving behind only the corpses that ought to remain.

An elderly woman sat on the first floor, weaving bamboo baskets, her skilled gestures inscribing pattern upon pattern onto the baskets. "Such pretty designs, your hands are the deftest among everyone, never pausing for a moment. I should have noticed you sooner; then Nan Qi wouldn't have died." As if summarizing at the end, Xiao Lin sat beside the old woman.

"May I ask you something?" The old woman's hands never paused, taking up a strand of green bamboo vine, weaving it into the basket. "From when did you realize this was a trap?" (To be continued. If you like this work, feel free to cast recommendation votes and monthly votes on Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation.)