Mutated Vines

BOOM!!

The explosion occurred just ahead and to the right of the van, hurling dirt and vegetation into the air, the violent shockwave nearly flipping them over.

?!

"What the hell is this?!"

"Good God!"

The sudden turn of events shattered the previously relaxed atmosphere, leaving Sears and the four students at a loss, though fortunately, none of them let out any annoying screams.

"Hold on! Keep your heads down!"

Leon shouted a warning while slamming his right foot onto the accelerator, maneuvering the van to charge out of the muddy, dense forest stretch.

VROOM!!

The engine roared, engaging the four-wheel drive.

Whiz—whiz—!

The whistling sound of incoming shells drew closer.

BOOM! BOOM!

Another round of explosions erupted around the van; one shell snapped a giant tree in half, causing the upper trunk to lose its support and crash uncontrollably toward the ground.

Skrrrt—!!

Seeing this, Leon realized it was a mortar attack and jerked the steering wheel to the left, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the tree and becoming a sitting duck.

Yet, he was deeply confused.

They were only driving an old van mass-produced in the 80s; was it really necessary to use mortars to "greet" them?

Could it be...

Rat-tat-tat!!

Sure enough, just as Leon thought the mortar fire wasn't aimed at them, heavy gunfire erupted from the right, and a fierce conflict broke out in an instant.

Bullets and shells of various calibers tore through the dense forest, proving more effective than a chainsaw as they "cleared" the thick vegetation between the warring parties, carving out a makeshift "clearing."

Smoke filled the air, and despite the rainforest's excellent air filtration, everyone inside the van could still smell the pungent scent of gunpowder.

Crack!

Several stray bullets punched clean through the van windows.

"Oh, my God...!"

"Professor... I want to go home..."

Following Leon's instructions, the students huddled with their hands over their heads and ears, curling up as tightly as possible to avoid being hit by stray rounds.

Fear and despair were visible on their faces, their hearts filled with regret—why had they left home to venture into this war-torn region, placing themselves on the brink of death?

Leon, however, had no time to soothe the students' emotions; he was focused entirely on driving.

As he observed the movement to his right out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the combatants.

To the north-northeast were the true targets of the mortar fire: men dressed in deep green, wielding Soviet-style weapons—the clear hallmark of rebel forces.

On the west side, the side of the village they were approaching, were more rebels in the same attire and with the same weaponry.

Was it an internal feud?

Infighting among warlords or rebels over interests or spoils was common enough.

Among the rebels on the village side, Leon also spotted many civilians in rags, seemingly forced into the middle of this internal conflict.

But Leon couldn't explain why the civilians were charging ahead of the rebels, acting even more aggressive and "valiant."

?

This was certainly not the behavior of people being coerced.

BOOM! BOOM!

A few more shells landed nearby, the explosions making the earth tremble.

Clang!~ Clang!

Shrapnel and debris, with force no less than the warheads themselves, sprayed outward, causing the van to clang loudly as it became increasingly battered.

Perhaps they had some luck on their side?

The shrapnel and debris, capable of easily piercing the van's body, caused no fatal injuries to those inside.

Only the female student who had tried to strike up a conversation with Leon earlier had her left forearm gashed open by shrapnel, requiring immediate pressure to stop the bleeding.

But...

"BANG!"

A tire blew out.

"Ah!!"

"Help!!"

Accompanied by the shouting inside, the van that had been ferrying the group through the dense forest finally lost its balance and overturned.

Due to inertia, the van rolled several times across the muddy ground before finally slamming into a giant tree and coming to a halt.

Bang... bang!

Leon, having regained his senses, kicked out the already shattered windshield.

The moment he crawled out of the van, he rolled to his feet, drew his .40 from its holster in one fluid motion, and scanned his surroundings.

He saw that the "accident" site happened to be at the intersection of the village and the dense forest; a few more meters to the west would have cleared the rainforest, but as he turned his head toward the north-northeast...

"Rat-tat! Rat-tat!"

The distinct, crisp sound of .40 S&W caliber rounds leaving the chamber began to mingle with the intense sounds of the firefight.

Leon had spotted two rebels armed with AKMs about to rush the rear of the vehicle, so he raised his weapon, aimed, and pulled the trigger, punching a bloody hole into each of their foreheads in one seamless motion.

After neutralizing the immediate threat, Leon gripped his USP in his right hand, ensuring he could still fire at a moment's notice, and hauled Sears out of the vehicle.

The remaining four students were far more agile than their professor; they crawled out of the van on their own and huddled beside the engine-heavy front of the vehicle.

Confirming that everyone was alive, Leon pulled the medical kit from his belt and tossed it to the female student, instructing her to bandage the patch of missing flesh on his left arm.

Although they had been forced into a battle and were all scared to death, Sears and the others understood that they must not scream or shout at this moment.

Doing so might seem like a way to vent their emotions and alleviate their fear, but it would only expose their position and cause Leon, who was protecting them, to become agitated.

On the other hand, Leon, this trainee investigator, was also trembling with fear.

Even with his high psychological resilience and rigorous training, this was his first time killing someone; it was inevitable that he would experience significant emotional fluctuations, and the surge of adrenaline was making his hands shake uncontrollably.

Fortunately, he kept Krauser's teachings firmly in mind. Leon quickly adjusted his breathing rhythm, pulled a smoke grenade from his gear, yanked the pin, released the safety, and tossed it to the south of the van.

Hiss!

Smoke rapidly filled the air, providing them with more cover.

"Run toward the village!"

"Okay!"

Receiving the signal, Sears and the others scrambled toward the nearest thatched hut.

Leon stayed at the rear of the group, responsible for dealing with any rebels closing in or following them.

Just as they escaped the rainforest, rounded the back of the thatched hut, and prepared to turn the corner into the village...

"Roar!!"

The male student in the lead nearly collided head-on with a "villager" emitting a strange, guttural sound.

"Sweet Jesus!" The male student scrambled backward.

"Roar!!"

But the "villager" pursued him relentlessly, reaching out with both hands in an attempt to choke the male student's neck.

Hearing the commotion, Leon immediately rushed to the student's side, aimed his muzzle at the "villager's" left chest, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Rat-tat! Tat!"

Two rapid shots to the chest, followed by one to the head.

The "villager," having suffered three fatal hits, threw its head back and fell to the ground with a heavy thud!

If this were Leon during his police academy days, he might have shouted, "Stop! Or I'll shoot!", but police regulations clearly did not apply to the current situation.

Thump! Thump!

But the "villager" wasn't dead yet; it suddenly began to convulse violently, and then, its head simply exploded.

"Hiss!!"

The "villager" let out an even sharper, shrill screech, and a mass of slender, thorny, vine-like tentacles surged from its severed neck.