Art of Harvesting Life

Everything that happened today seems to be telling Qing Chen a lesson: the outcome of a battle is determined by the "future," and you should never use information from the "past" to calculate it, or you will be doomed.

Kunlun had issued a warrant for the arrest of five criminals, Qing Chen had only seen five criminals on the bus, but now the number being reported on the walkie-talkie was eight.

No wonder the other side was able to control two Kunlun members so easily; it turns out their team is growing stronger.

There are so many people in this world who are willing to take risks for money.

Yesterday, Lin Xiaoxiao chatted with him. He squatted on a chair, laughing, and said, "Qing Chen, when you return to the Outer World, remember not to trust anyone. Because self-interest can change too many relationships. Humans are driven by self-interest; never underestimate human greed. Guess who invented the base station communication equipment you and Liu Dezhu were using?"

Qing Chen guessed, "A spy?"

Lin Xiaoxiao chuckled and shook her head, "No, it was invented secretly by two securities traders from City Number One to avoid being caught with evidence of insider trading. You see, that's the power of profit; it even drives technological progress."

At this moment, Qing Chen suddenly felt that more and more people in the Outer World might step into the dark side of this world for the sake of profit.

Because so many people need this opportunity to change their lives.

He put the walkie-talkie in his pocket, waved to Jiang Xue, and walked into the night.

Jiang Xue knelt down and hugged Li Tongyun: "Were you scared just now? Are you still afraid?"

Li Tongyun thought for a moment, "I was quite scared at first, but Brother Qing Chen patted my head and I wasn't scared anymore."

The little girl recalled Qing Chen's swift calculations and actions in the darkness, how the boy handled the thugs with such ease, as if he were performing an art form.

The Art of Harvesting Life.

Human feet are probably the softest of all animals.

Fighting barefoot is harder than you might imagine; even a small pebble on the ground can make you wince in pain.

If there were any other possibility, Qing Chen would not want to fight barefoot.

But he had no choice.

Qing Chen crouched quietly on a loquat tree by the roadside, using the dense canopy to conceal himself, and turned the volume of his walkie-talkie down to the minimum.

The flickering campfire in the courtyard occasionally cast dappled light through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating him.

This was the best location he could find in his memory; the treetops were high, and it was some distance from the Cloud Inn.

"There are 6 people in the yard, and there should be another one on guard at the back gate," Qing Chen thought to himself. It was unrealistic for him to deal with seven people, especially since the thugs were all gathered together.

He glanced down at the bloodstains on the soles of his feet, wondering what they would look like after tonight.

In the courtyard, Liu Dezhu sat timidly on the ground, while the leader of the thugs squatted in front of him, pressing a gun to his forehead and asking him something.

More than forty hostages huddled together, while six assailants in the courtyard held them firmly in their place, leaving no one with a chance to escape.

To Qing Chen's surprise, he saw a Kunlun member lying on his side on the ground, his forehead already wet with sweat.

The gun muzzles on the calves of the Kunlun members were particularly conspicuous, with blood still slowly flowing out, staining the cement ground a deep purple.

However, even in such a painful moment, the other person quietly placed their right hand next to their pants pocket, rhythmically tapping their index and middle fingers alternately, as if conveying a message to the outside world.

Da, da da.

Tap, tap, tap...

The index finger represents short notes played quickly, while the middle finger represents long notes played slowly.

It was like Morse Code, but Qing Chen didn't know who the other party was passing the message to.

Was it his other companion?

Qing Chen noted down the frequency of the other person's knocking, then turned his gaze to the courtyard.

Just then, a thug was seen searching through the crowd, then smiling broadly as he said something to his companion.

After saying that, he grabbed Wang Yun's hair and pulled her out of the crowd.

Wang Yun was dragged on the ground, struggling with her legs, but in the end she was still dragged into the inn.

The students watched this scene with fear. Hu Xiaoniu and Zhang Tianzhen tried to stand up several times, but were forced to squat down by the dark and cold muzzle of a gun.

The uninjured Kunlun member stood up angrily, only to be punched hard in the abdomen by a thug next to him. He fell to the ground like a shrimp, gasping for breath and unable to make a sound.

Apart from that, no one else dared to resist.

But at this time, no one can use morality to hold them hostage. It is human nature to protect oneself when danger comes. Students have not received professional training, so fear is the emotion they should have.

What they didn't know was that the criminals never intended to leave a single ordinary person behind.

Qing Chen watched all of this with an expressionless face, but did not make a move.

He felt this was somewhat illogical, because the assailants were well-trained soldiers.

Doing this kind of thing at this time seems extremely foolish.

But the other party clearly couldn't be that stupid.

A short while later, the thug came out of the inn and patted his companion on the shoulder. "Your turn."

Upon hearing this, the students immediately shrank back in fear.

The assailant was seen smiling as he scanned the crowd. The girls all lowered their heads, not daring to look him in the eye, as if that would prevent them from being discovered.

However, the next moment, the other party's gaze actually... stayed on Nan Gengchen!

The thugs pushed through the crowd and yanked the thin Nan Gengchen out, intending to take him into the house.

Qing Chen stared blankly at this scene. "..."

He finally confirmed some things.

We can't wait any longer.

He didn't even know where the thug was hiding at the back door, but he couldn't wait any longer.

This is the best opportunity.

The Cloud Inn is built against the mountain. Behind it is not flat land, but a forest and mountain that extend diagonally upwards.

A thug was quietly leaning against the back door, smoking a cigarette.

The red glow of the cigarette butt flickered in the darkness, and in the silence, one could even hear the hissing sound of the burning tobacco.

Unlike the thugs at the front gate, he had his Glock 34 equipped with a silencer in hand from the start, so he could deal with any crisis at any time.

Suddenly, there was the sound of pebbles falling to the ground in the darkness.

However, the assailant's first reaction was to look in the opposite direction of the sound, while pointing his gun at the source of the sound.

No matter which side has people, he can react quickly, which is the most correct way to handle things.

Nobody's here.

His tense muscles slowly relaxed.

The thug threw away his cigarette butt, his eyes calm as he raised his gun and searched, trying to find the source of the sound of the pebbles.

Just then, a voice came from the walkie-talkie. "Report the number, 1."

"2."

"3."

The assailant pressed the intercom and said, "4."

At that moment, his attention was on the walkie-talkie, and his attention and hearing were also somewhat distracted.

He released the walkie-talkie and continued to scan his surroundings with his eyes.

In an instant, the assailant's pupils contracted sharply, but he had already been covered in the mouth by a hand that reached out from behind, and the cold dagger pierced through his spleen and lodged in his lungs like lightning from behind.

The next moment, he heard someone standing behind him press the intercom and say, "5."

The hand slowly loosened, but the thug could only gasp for breath.

The walkie-talkie was still broadcasting numbers.

"6."

"7."

"8."

No one noticed that two of their companions had already died.