At dusk, three trucks loaded with timber and five Wasteland Battle Vehicles drove along a track through the wilderness.
"Second Brother, we've got all the goods together this time. Make sure you trade for plenty of booze! The boys are desperate for a drink!"
"Don't worry. I heard the boss talking about it a few days ago, too. Shouldn't be a problem." Anji blew out a puff of smoke and watched the trucks behind him through the rearview mirror.
He felt thoroughly at ease.
Once they delivered this load, they could rest for a couple of days. Half a month in the mountains had been more than enough.
Before long, they returned to the Logging Camp.
As the vehicles rolled to a stop, the raiders grabbed their guns and began herding the loggers out.
"Come on, hurry up and get off."
One exhausted logger after another was driven off the trucks.
Anji climbed out, dropped his cigarette butt, and ground it out beneath his foot.
His gaze swept across the camp, and an uneasy feeling rose in his chest.
"Second Brother, what's wrong?"
A raider behind him noticed his expression and came closer.
Anji was about to speak.
Then he saw three laser sights trained on his subordinate.
Forehead, heart, throat.
Hiss—
Anji's pupils widened, and he instinctively dodged to the side.
"Enemies!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The gunfire erupted the moment he shouted.
Before the raiders could raise their weapons, bullets struck them, spraying blood.
Every raider took at least two shots.
Anji was hit too. A bullet pierced his calf, sending him to the ground.
The fight was over in less than three seconds.
Brief, precise, efficient.
More than a dozen raiders lay on the ground. Apart from Anji, none survived.
The loggers, on the other hand, were completely