Thinking that the female soldier might be a special forces operative from his own country, Andrew Clark felt his blood boil. His panic gradually subsided, and he regained his usual calm and shrewdness. He continued hiding motionless behind the big tree, fully aware that this kind of high-level battle was not something he could participate in—going out would be suicide, but hiding was just waiting to die as well. He had no idea how many enemies there were, but he had to do something to help the female soldier; saving her was saving himself.

At this thought, Andrew Clark looked around but found nothing he could use. Feeling the machete still in his hand, he suddenly had an idea. He glanced at the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves, estimated the possible positions where the enemies might be hiding, and slowly extended the machete out from behind the tree, angling the blade to reflect a beam of sunlight.

“Whoosh!” A gunshot rang out.

Andrew Clark felt a powerful force hit him, and he lost his grip on the machete, which flew far away and landed on the ground. The blade had been broken into two pieces.

“Whoosh!” Another gunshot sounded from not far away.

Andrew Clark was startled. He turned his head and saw that it was the female soldier who had fired. Immediately after, Andrew Clark heard a faint, muffled groan—clearly, someone had been hit. He was overjoyed, now fully aware of the female soldier’s terrifying marksmanship, and realized his method had worked. His confidence soared.

“Whoosh—bang!” Another shot rang out, shaking the big tree and sending wood chips flying.

Andrew Clark felt a sharp pain in his arm as blood streamed down. He was stunned. Suddenly, he heard a woman’s voice shout, “Get down!” Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, only then realizing that the tree he’d been hiding behind had been pierced by a bullet, leaving a large hole. Fortunately, the bullet’s trajectory had changed after entering the tree, only grazing his skin. Realizing he had just brushed past death, Andrew Clark was completely enraged, a surge of wild anger rising within him—screw it, he was going all out.

Just as Andrew Clark was about to fight back, he heard gunfire not far away. He didn’t even need to look to know the female soldier was seizing the opportunity to counterattack. Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed off with his feet, let out a strange yell, and charged forward, planning to use himself as bait to draw the enemy’s fire and create an opening for the female soldier. He had full confidence in her marksmanship. At worst, he’d die; better to die gloriously than in humiliation.

“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—get down!” The sound of a three-round burst mixed with an angry shout rang in Andrew Clark’s ears. Having already dashed several meters, Andrew Clark couldn’t stop his momentum. He didn’t notice a tree root exposed on the ground, lost his balance, and was tripped, tumbling a long way.

At the very moment he hit the ground, Andrew Clark felt a bullet graze his scalp, the searing heat suffocating. In a panic, he scrambled behind a nearby tree, plopped down at its base, and touched his head, overwhelmed by a sense of having narrowly escaped death. Maybe after so many brushes with death, his heart had grown numb; Andrew Clark didn’t find it so terrifying anymore. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and as he saw the dappled sunlight at his feet dancing like butterflies, he couldn’t help but look up at the sky and think, “Could it be the spirits of my fallen brothers watching over me?”

“Whoosh, whoosh!” Two more sharp cracks of bullets split the air, and a woman’s voice shouted, “Are you dead?”

Andrew Clark suddenly realized it was the same voice that had warned him to get down earlier, speaking in familiar Mandarin. He turned his head and saw it was the female soldier. He didn’t know when she had moved to another big tree five or six meters away, hiding her body beneath a massive, raised tree root, her gun pointed forward.

“Still alive. Are you one of us?” Andrew Clark replied, asking in confusion.

“Fall back first,” the female soldier said coldly, not answering Andrew Clark’s question.

“Huh?” Andrew Clark looked at the female soldier in surprise. Suddenly, a sharp whistle came from the direction of the enemy. He didn’t know what it meant, but seeing the female soldier’s face turn grim, he guessed it wasn’t good. He felt he could completely trust her—if she said retreat, there must be a reason. Without hesitation, he sprinted back the way he had come, grabbing his backpack and machete as he went.

He dashed more than ten meters without hearing any gunshots from an ambush. Andrew Clark didn’t know what had happened, but noticed the female soldier hadn’t retreated with him. He felt it was shameful for a man to leave a woman behind and run first, so he prepared to turn back. Just then, he heard a woman shout, “Run!”

Andrew Clark felt the voice was very close and was startled. He turned and saw the female soldier had already rushed over, hiding behind a big tree three to five meters diagonally ahead, glaring at him coldly, her face fierce. Andrew Clark felt this ghost-like female soldier was even stronger than he’d imagined. He didn’t hesitate any longer and sped up his escape.

In a battle between experts, he would only be a burden if he stayed. At that moment, Andrew Clark realized how useless he was—compared to the female soldier, the difference was like night and day, worlds apart. As for those enemies, they were evenly matched with the female soldier, so they weren’t simple either—none of them were people he could compare to.

He sprinted a long way, and when he could no longer hear gunfire behind him, Andrew Clark gradually slowed down and looked around, but didn’t see the female soldier. He couldn’t help but worry. Gritting his teeth, he ran back—Andrew Clark couldn’t bring himself to abandon a woman and run for his life, especially since those enemies ahead might be the ones who killed his comrades.