Zhang Xiaoqiang held a lit cigarette in his hand as he paced back and forth in front of these men. From time to time, he would take a puff before slowly exhaling. As he looked at these men, his cold gaze caused the hearts of the men kneeling on the ground to tremble. The silver Desert Eagle on his waist was like the scythe of the Grim Reaper in the eyes of these captives. They all suspected that Zhang Xiaoqiang was choosing an unlucky person to kill as an example to the others. None of them wanted to be that unlucky person. Every time Zhang Xiaoqiang's cold gaze swept over them, they would bury their heads in their chests until that bone-chilling gaze moved away.
He stood on the ground, his body swaying non-stop. The dizziness in his head grew heavier and heavier. He could not see his surroundings clearly at all. He slowly moved his feet, searching for the little girl who had repeatedly thrown him to the ground. He still wanted to swing his fists at her, waiting for her to throw him to his death or die of exhaustion. A graceful figure appeared in his blurry vision. "Is that her?"
He swayed as he walked towards that figure. That figure was also walking towards him. Closer, closer. "Ah ~ ~ ~" He used the last of his strength to let out a howl, swinging his right fist towards that figure.
The young man continued to walk in circles. Suddenly, he sped up, the knife in his hand pointed straight at the throat of the combat team member. The combat team member was too careless. His gun was still strapped to his back. Seeing the sudden knife, he closed his eyes in despair.
More than a hundred men knelt before the muzzle of the gun, trembling in fear. They did not know what their fate would be. In the end, they were the ones who made the first move. Some of them hugged their heads and looked around randomly, ready to escape at any time. Some of them closed their eyes and silently prayed in their hearts. There were also some men who looked at the few people kneeling at the front with hatred. They were all the leaders of the various small teams. They resented their leaders for bringing them out to seek death. There were also some men who only had eyes for the machine guns above their heads. They muttered, "He said it's a machine gun, he said it's a machine gun …"
Zhang Xiaoqiang had long forgotten about the young man. His subordinates had chased the men who were lying on the ground over. One by one, they hugged their heads and knelt under the muzzle of the heavy machine gun. Under the control of the machine gunner, the muzzle of the heavy machine gun slowly slid over their heads. Every time the muzzle shifted, it would cause the men who were watching from the corner of their eyes to feel a wave of fear.
Zhang Xiaoqiang's heart was very beautiful, very beautiful, indescribably beautiful. Looking at these sturdy men made him happy. Right now, Zhang Xiaoqiang had already learned to hide his expression. His eyes were very cold, but his heart was very warm. What was the most lacking in the post-apocalyptic world?
It wasn't guns or ammunition, it wasn't food or resources. It was people, adult and strong laborers. With people, they could rob, they could build, they could farm, they could manufacture …
"Why … Why … Why don't you kill me … Come, give me a bullet …" He opened his blood red eyes and roared angrily at the men in the combat team. He panted heavily as he spun around. His eyes were burning as he looked at each and every man who was holding a gun. He wanted to die, he wanted to die gloriously in battle. "That's him, he's the happiest one. Hmph!
Laugh … Let's die together … "
His target was a member of the combat team who was standing beside Yang Ke-er. This guy was the happiest one, he didn't think that his laughter would cause trouble for himself.
"Pu …" He smashed into the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust. He groaned and struggled in the dust. He crawled up shakily from the ground and felt a wave of dizziness. In his daze, he saw a weak figure walking towards him. "Ah …" He let out another loud roar and raised his fist to punch the figure. His wrist tightened and he flew out again …
The knife stopped at his throat. The skin on his throat could even feel the slight chill of the knife. He took a step back and hurriedly removed the rifle on his shoulder. Because he was too shocked, he didn't hold the rifle properly and it fell to the ground. He took another few steps back and saw that the man's hand holding the knife was tightly gripped by Yang Ke-er.
The young man finally saw the owner of the down jacket clearly. He dropped his right arm and said softly, "You're not her!" His body fell to the ground, unconscious. He slowly struggled on the ground.
The bones in his body felt like they were being clamped by pliers. The pain washed over him like a tidal wave. His chin rested on the dusty ground, and his heavy breathing caused the dust on the ground to rise and slowly cover his head. He slowly moved his arms to his chest to support his upper body. His legs slowly moved forward until he was able to kneel on the ground. Every movement of his body seemed to be slowed down by a camera. He slowly crawled up from the ground. His posture was so funny, but no one laughed. They were all deeply shocked. The young man had been thrown down by Yang Ke-er countless times, but every time, he would get up from the ground and throw punches at Yang Ke-er. However, the speed at which he got up became slower and slower, and his punches became lighter and lighter. Yang Ke-er unconsciously lowered the strength of her hands and started to feel like she was holding him gently. Even so, the young man was getting weaker and weaker. Until now, he didn't even have the strength to get up from the ground.
His fist stopped, and he looked at the down jacket that had turned from bright red to dark red. The owner of the down jacket was a delicate-looking little girl. The little girl was about the same age as Yang Ke-er, and she had a timid expression on her face. Tears blurred the little girl's vision, and she reached out with both hands to support the young man, but she hesitated halfway, as if she did not dare to touch him.
"Ha ~ ~ ~" He swung his left fist towards Yang Ke-er's face. Yang Ke-er shook her wrist, and the young man was thrown far away like a doll.
Mi Nan was very satisfied with his life here, but he was not. He wanted to die, and he wanted to go underground to find his cousin. The chance had come, the leader of the commoners had personally come to find him, and promised that Mi Nan would not have to worry about food or clothing in the future, as long as he could kill the leader of the enemy's convoy at the last moment …
The young man looked at Yang Ke-er's slender fingers in horror. He knew his own strength, and not to mention a budding little girl, even a grown man would not be able to hold him. He struggled with all his might, but Yang Ke-er's small hands were like a pair of pliers, preventing him from moving an inch. His bloodshot eyes looked at Yang Ke-er's delicate face, and he saw the ridicule in Yang Ke-er's eyes, and he became even angrier.