Conditions
"Sorry, sorry, do you have any medicine for malaria, antidotes, and fever reducers? Some of our people were bitten by something, and others have a fever. They're really sick, and we're running short on medicine."
The mercenaries, who had followed them all day and spent a miserable night nearby, finally couldn't hold out any longer. Just before Li Bai's convoy set off, they approached him with grim expressions.
They hadn't brought enough medicine with them. Who could have known so many of them would be affected? Some had even been bitten by venomous snakes or insects—not just one or two.
They had originally wanted to hold on a little longer and see if they could recover on their own. But with so many of them sick, even the specialized medicine wasn't enough, and their condition kept getting worse. If this dragged on, someone might die.
People were the foundation of a mercenary team, especially its elite fighters.
Not many team leaders could be so heartless as to let their people die. It wasn't easy to build a team that worked well together; it took years.
Every time a teammate was lost, it dealt a major blow to the whole team. Sometimes it even caused the team to fall apart on the spot.
"You've been following me this whole time. You're making things difficult for me!"
Li Bai reached out and grabbed at empty air. A cardboard box appeared in his hand.
It was a box of specialized malaria medicine. He had plenty in his Storage Ring. He hadn't made it himself; Li Feng, the Medical Team's head, had practically forced it on him.
Malaria medicine and various antidotes were the most heavily stocked items in the Chinese peacekeeping force's Medical Team. Before Li Bai began handing out the "Purple