The players who stormed out of the vehicles were furious.
They didn't know where they were, who was standing across from them, or how strong those people were. They only knew one thing: that bunch of assholes on the other side were pointing guns at Fu Fu!
What else was there to say?
"Fuck you, you—!"
"I'll chop you into pieces, you—!"
A string of obscenities, heavy on the motherfucking, spilled from the players' mouths. Li Cheng and the others got a long-overdue taste of maternal misfortune.
These players had spent their whole lives honing their tongues on every kind of forum. They could use the internet's Six Arts of the Gentleman to make fun of anyone, or invoke eighteen generations of ancestors to show off their aggression. Li Cheng, a man of high standing, had never experienced anything like this. After taking a few insults, he turned bright red with rage.
A bunch of lunatics!
Li Cheng had no time to wonder where these players had come from.
He only knew he was surrounded. If he wanted to survive, he had to find a way out.
That wouldn't be easy. At a glance, he saw nearly a hundred people charging toward him. Nearly a hundred people crammed into five little vehicles—were they compressed kelp that had gained sentience or what?
He remembered the people who had helped Bai Fu kill Shadow Woman that night, and the people who had charged into the Wanderer camp today, braving a dense barrage of gunfire. If these people were as strong as those others, then he had almost no chance of walking away alive.
Li Cheng said "almost no chance" instead of "no chance at all" because he'd suddenly spotted the one opportunity right in front of him.
"Bai Fu, you made a