After walking back for about two hundred meters, everything around was silent. Other than the sound of the wind rustling the leaves, there was no sign of any suspicious person. It was as if nothing had happened just moments ago. Andrew Clark was shocked and was wondering what to do when an angry voice sounded not far away, “Why did you come back? Are you looking to die? Run!”

Chapter 8 Enemy Provocation

Andrew Clark turned his head and saw someone leaning against a huge tree—it was that female soldier. She looked to be in pain, her thigh was bleeding, and she was using a vine to tie it up. Andrew Clark didn’t hesitate, rushed over, put his rucksack on the ground, and quickly opened it to search through it, asking, “Are you hurt?”

Immediately after, Andrew Clark felt his collar grabbed and his whole body was dragged uncontrollably to the side, pressed behind the big tree. Then a gunshot rang out—the spot where he had just been crouching was hit by a bullet. He was terrified. Seeing that the one who saved him was the female soldier, he was about to thank her, but she made a silencing gesture, so he quickly shut up and listened intently to the surroundings, not daring to make a sound, afraid of affecting the female soldier.

The female soldier gritted her teeth, twisted her body, raised her gun and fired outside, then quickly pulled back. Someone returned fire, bullets hitting the tree with a thunderous crash. Andrew Clark clearly heard a faint groan—someone had been hit and wounded. He looked at this sharpshooting female soldier in shock, speechless.

The female soldier’s icy face remained unchanged as always. She just listened for a while, then sat up straight and unceremoniously rummaged through Andrew Clark’s rucksack, found a first aid kit, quickly opened it, and skillfully used small scissors to cut open the pants at her thigh, revealing a large area of snow-white skin. Suddenly realizing Andrew Clark was beside her, she shot him a murderous glare. Andrew Clark hurriedly turned away.

A rustling sound came. Andrew Clark thought of the glimpse he just caught—the sight of that fair skin was captivating, his blood surged. But then he remembered the female soldier’s terrifying skills and murderous expression, and his surging blood instantly cooled, all stray thoughts vanishing.

“Aren’t you afraid of dying?” a woman’s voice asked softly.

Andrew Clark knew it was the female soldier asking. He turned back and saw she had already bandaged her wound. He shook his head without hesitation and said, “Of course I’m afraid. Who isn’t afraid of dying?”

“Then why did you come back?” the female soldier asked coldly.

“I couldn’t let a woman cover the rear. I just couldn’t. They might be my enemies—nine lives lost. I had to come back.” As Andrew Clark spoke, his expression grew resolute, a murderous aura erupted from him, he gripped his machete tighter, and his eyes became determined, sweeping away his earlier panic.

“Hm?” The female soldier let out a barely audible sound of surprise, glanced at Andrew Clark, and her cold, beautiful face showed a hint of astonishment before she turned away. Anyone can talk big, but you need the strength to back it up. In her eyes, Andrew Clark’s courage was commendable, but his skills were average. She quickly checked her weapon, then leaned against the tree and closed her eyes to rest.

Andrew Clark knew the female soldier wasn’t really resting, but was letting him relax as much as possible, to focus on sensing the enemy’s next move. It was like what the elders at home taught him about hunting: what you see and hear may not be real, only what you sense is true. When a beast attacks, there’s a murderous aura—if you sense it, you know the beast’s position and when it will strike. But this mysterious feeling isn’t something everyone can master; after ten years, Andrew Clark still hadn’t succeeded.

“Hey, what should I call you?” Andrew Clark asked in a low voice.

The female soldier didn’t move or respond to Andrew Clark. He really wanted to ask what to do next—who knew how many enemies were outside, and the two of them hiding here wasn’t a solution. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, and the female soldier immediately fired back, as if she knew exactly where the enemy was hiding.

“Hey, girl, almost out of bullets, aren’t you? How about we make a deal?” A man’s voice, with a Western accent and broken Chinese, shouted loudly, full of mockery and provocation.

The female soldier curled up as much as possible to reduce her exposure, leaned against the tree to rest, and completely ignored the enemy’s taunts. Andrew Clark could tell she was severely exhausted, her spirit depleted, probably from too much blood loss. Luckily, she had just bandaged herself and stopped the bleeding for now, but if she moved too much, the wound might tear open again. A surge of protectiveness rose in him—a man’s natural instinct to protect a woman.

“Give me your pistol. I’ll draw them away,” Andrew Clark said to the female soldier, his tone resolute.

The female soldier didn’t even bother to look at Andrew Clark, just kept her eyes half-closed, seizing every moment to recover. Being looked down on by a woman like this drove Andrew Clark crazy. He said seriously, “I know they’re strong. This level of combat isn’t something a lowly soldier like me can handle. But so what if I die?” With that, he turned to charge out.