That morning, Hesta and Victoria quickly surveyed every incident site across the Fayalar Wasteland. Unlike the scattered death sites along the outskirts, the deeper they went, the more concentrated the Quicksilver Needles' deaths became. At the largest burial site, less than a hundred square meters held the markers of more than forty dead.
This unusual concentration led them both to speculate. It seemed that before they died, the Quicksilver Needles had been herded together like sheep. After a fierce battle, a small number had successfully broken through, only to die beneath dense fire from the sky.
"That possibility isn't out of the question," Victoria said. "Just like last night—if someone added a special neural suppressant to the Quicksilver Needles' food, then once everyone entered Bullet Time one after another, it would become much easier to surround and wipe them out..."
"More than two hundred Quicksilver Needles, taking turns fighting and resting. Even if some people failed to notice something wrong with the food, could it really lead to everyone being affected and the entire group ending up in danger?"
Victoria fell silent for a moment. "...There were still survivors."
"Yes, I know. But the proportion of those affected was too high," Hesta said softly. "Besides, tampering with the food would be difficult. Our wartime meals aren't purchased as needed or prepared on the spot. The base has its own independent stores, and the warehouses are refreshed every six months to keep everything within date. All packaged food is allocated and transported by the logistics team before departure, and the types selected are often decided by the team members themselves—I find it hard to imagine how an outside hand could get through all those checkpoints, plant compromised food in the warehouses, and ensure it was chosen by that particular batch of