Dusk.
The sound of vehicles rose from the wilderness. Amid the rumble, faint shouts and whistles could also be heard.
They were seven or eight modified jeeps. Some had sharp metal spikes welded all over them, making them look like iron hedgehogs; others carried several rifles mounted on top, like gun turrets.
Some heavily made-up thugs, looking like evil spirits, played electric music on guitars while shouting and hollering.
They wore leather jackets and leather pants covered in metal studs. Their bodies were covered in tattoos or nose rings, and ammunition magazines or grenades were strapped across their chests. Anyone could tell at a glance that they were no good.
They were an armed force from the surrounding area, specializing in robbing passing merchant caravans.
Now that they saw cooking smoke rising in the distance, they charged over like sharks smelling blood, hoping to pick up some easy gains.
However, when they drove up a low slope, they discovered that the vast wilderness below was filled with neatly arranged armed off-road vehicles, surrounding a temporary camp.
The camp was packed with people, a dark, sprawling mass. If every one of them spat once, it would be enough to drown the thugs.
"Go! Hurry!"
"Get out of here!"
The thug leader panicked. Their small numbers would not even be enough to fill the enemy's teeth.
Moreover, several monstrous mecha transport vehicles stood in the distance beyond the camp. Whether it was an armed surface force or the regular army of an Undercity, none of them were people the thugs could afford to provoke.
But by the time they wanted to leave, it was already too late. Before the thug standing on the vehicle and playing the guitar could even sit down, his head suddenly burst apart. His eyeballs bounced onto the