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墨書 Inktalez
Far removed from the concerns of the outside world, and with the lockdown in Britain, the living conditions within British India were little known to outsiders. Driving the dusty off-road vehicle, Yang Xiaoyou found his speed slowing down within India.
In Myanmar, with the orders received from General Bawang, other warlords encountered on the road would show some respect. However, within India, no one recognized what Bagon was or wasn’t.
Whether it was the British Army or the Indian rebels, encountering either would certainly delay his journey.
“Hmm, Kanpur. Tsk, you all are getting on in years; why are you still so ‘lively’?” After driving day and night, Yang Xiaoyou felt slightly fatigued. To prepare for any potential emergencies ahead, he decided to take a proper break. The food he had would be sufficient for some time.
It wasn’t just him; even considering those he intended to take along should be enough to last a while. Whether he would take a route through Z country or return via Myanmar would depend on the specific circumstances.
Having avoided villages or human settlements as much as possible, when he initially slipped into India, Yang Xiaoyou had only sneaked into a village without causing any commotion.
However, as he got closer to Kanpur, sightings of militants around began to increase. On two occasions, he was spotted but managed to shake off those bandit-like fellows thanks to his superb driving skills.
If someone with Yang Xiaoyou’s appearance were to appear here, neither the local Indians nor the British would take kindly to it.
“Tch. This is ridiculous; how can they find traces?” Parking behind a hidden boulder, Yang Xiaoyou squinted from the top of his vehicle at a group of figures nearby searching for something, frowning slightly.
In this desolate area that could almost be described as a neighboring yellow-brown desert, a group of nearly naked and emaciated fellows carried various makeshift weapons and searched around with desperate eyes.
One of them was cursing in heavily accented English, vaguely audible as they had already discovered something and were demanding whoever it was to come out quickly.
The group wielded various firearms and appeared to number around twenty.
If he were unarmed in this terrain, facing their concentrated gunfire would be somewhat daunting even with his unique mental strength; after all, there were too many of them. But now that he had spare firearms at hand, dealing with these militants barehanded wouldn’t be an issue at all.
Currently hiding away, Yang Xiaoyou was mindful of eliminating one wave only for new ones to keep appearing. He had come here to find someone to take away; he wasn’t looking for trouble or combat.
When it came to comforting his parents, being overly cautious was never too much.
However, it was clear that this group of fellows with noses sharper than dogs seemed to have latched onto him in their own way.
“Hmph. If they’re looking for trouble themselves, then they can’t blame me.” With a glint of cold determination in his eyes upon realizing he couldn’t avoid them any longer, Yang Xiaoyou made his decision in an instant.
Not wanting to stir up trouble didn’t mean he was afraid of it!
With a swift slap on the car roof, he shot out into the open air. As he soared into the sky, he seemed to transform into a mist under the blazing sun, instantly dissipating like a dream!
"Are you sure you didn't see it wrong? There really is a truck full of food?" A group of nearly naked Militants gathered around, and one notably heavier man in the center wore a greedy expression as he spoke to one of Beside's subordinates.
"Boss, I'm Absolutely Certain. I pretended to be a passerby and saw him struggling to carry what he was eating; it was definitely a truckload of food. And although it looked a bit dirty on the surface, the tender meat underneath was clearly not from our people." The subordinate, who was being questioned by Beside, seemed to be drooling as he spoke.
It had been so long since they had tasted normal food since those monsters took over the village!
Now, acquiring firearms was easy; there were always some strange fellows willing to provide weapons to those who agreed to resist. But food...
The country had already been short on food, and with a large labor force sent to the battlefield, vast fields lay abandoned. Food shortages were appearing all over the nation, and at such times, no one could help their side. With hundreds of millions facing famine nationwide, no single faction could withstand it.
Hearing news of Fat Sheep at this moment made it impossible for him to stay calm! How could he wait any longer?
Only one frail fellow was carrying a truckload of food through a remote area, clearly worried about being discovered. He also knew that due to the British Side's blockade, many foreigners couldn't leave the country. Compared to the starving masses at the bottom, those foreigners still had an easier time obtaining essential food from the British Side.
Among several nearby groups were those who had managed to get their hands on these Fat Sheep.
Initially, they had felt quite envious of them; now they never expected such good fortune would fall upon themselves.
However, just then, he suddenly sensed something was off; an inexplicable chill ran down his spine.
"What is that? Is something approaching?" He looked at what seemed like a smoky figure drifting in and out of visibility toward them and felt something strange—a sudden surge of danger washed over him.
Having fought his way up from the lowest ranks for so long while avoiding misfortune had brought him to his current position. His instincts had saved his life multiple times; yet this time, he only felt that bone-chilling cold after realizing something was amiss. It truly startled him.
Instinctively, he raised his gun and fired at the indistinct figure!
"Eh?" Yang Xiaoyou, caught between dreams and reality, was surprised when one fellow among the group suddenly fired behind him. Although they hadn't aimed directly at him, it was clear that they sensed something was wrong.
The strong ones at the Momentum Level could vaguely sense their own trajectories, but clearly, in a team that was performing so poorly, such a strong individual did not exist.
Thinking back to how the other party had been following him like a hunting dog that had caught a whiff of something foul—cough, cough, the scent of meat—Yang Xiaoyou felt a flicker of interest in them.
"Boss, what's wrong? Did you see something?" The only one among them with a bit of meat on him was shooting wildly at the others. After an initial shock, they began to feel confused; it seemed like nothing was there.
"What?! Didn't you see it? Didn't you see that shadow creeping closer?!" Tarsen, whose heart was already cold, felt even more like he had fallen into an ice cellar in this sweltering heat.
Upon hearing their boss's words, the others were equally frightened. In India, where religious beliefs were deeply ingrained, most people believed in ghosts and deities. They knew that their boss's keen instincts had helped them escape many crises before.
It seemed that their boss had once trained with an Ascetic, which was why people here respected him in these chaotic times.
Now, hearing him say he was attacking something unclean while they couldn't even see it sent shivers down everyone's spines.
Unanimously, they began to spray bullets in that direction.
The dense barrage created a Bullet Hell that sent fragments of stone flying from the ground, making for a spectacular scene.
"Tsk. What a hassle." However, just as they were aimlessly shooting in that direction, a voice that seemed somewhat exasperated came from beside them. Soon after, a dreamlike mist appeared in the air.
As it drifted toward them quickly, it gradually coalesced into a figure!
This scene was utterly unfathomable to everyone present. They were not Regular Army personnel; their disadvantage became glaringly evident as they were struck by a significant shock and forgot to shoot altogether.
In an instant, the two closest individuals were seized by the newly formed palms and slammed together. It was as if a tiger had entered a flock of sheep; the figure flew through them effortlessly, leaving no one able to resist.
With each series of attacks, the figure gradually became clearer.
Standing beside their boss, the informant Lackey wore an expression of shock and stammered out, "Boss, that's the Fat Sheep!"
"Fat Sheep my ass!" Realizing what his subordinate meant, Tarsen became enraged.
Compared to the others, he had trained with his master for so long and had gained some insight; he naturally understood how terrifying their opponent was.
If everyone could clearly see each other, relying on their numerical advantage and the firearms in hand to launch a sweeping attack across the area would at least force the enemy to retreat. However, with subordinates who were as blind as bats, even he could barely make out a single outline.
Now, although the enemy was fully revealed, they had already infiltrated the crowd. From such an angle, even shooting would likely result in more friendly fire than hitting the target. The enemy's agility allowed them to use others as a meat shield while constantly maneuvering.
Watching his subordinates who seemed to be knocked back effortlessly as if they were lightly touched, cold sweat instantly broke out on Tarsen's forehead.
A wave of sorrow flashed through his heart. Was it enough just to survive? Why did he listen to his subordinates' advice to increase their rations? What was this nonsense about a lone fat sheep? This was nothing but a human-eating monster that wouldn’t spit out bones!
Damn it, how did those actors manage to "cooperate" to produce such effects when they were sent flying seven or eight meters?
“Ah, it must be you. See? How did you discover me?” Just as Tarsen's heart was filled with these thoughts, a delicate palm gently rested on his shoulder, and an intrigued voice came from behind him.
At that moment, aside from Tarsen, the rest of his team was sprawled around them in disarray.
Please don’t let it be avian flu. To be continued.
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