On the other side, near several damaged military vehicles.
The muzzle flash spat its fire for the last time before extinguishing.
A wisp of pale blue gunpowder smoke curled into the air under the ghastly moonlight, only to be quickly dispersed by the night wind of the Wilderness, as if it had never existed.
Chu You slowly lowered the service rifle in her hand.
The barrel still retained the residual warmth from firing, and its metal components shimmered with a cold, hard luster under the moonlight.
Her chest heaved slightly as she adjusted her somewhat hurried breathing.
Her gaze fell calmly on a spot not far away — a humanoid Shi Bian Ti that had just stopped twitching after collapsing to the ground. Black blood trickled steadily from the fresh hole in its forehead, quickly absorbed by the dry soil, leaving only a dark, wet stain.
She frowned slightly, not because of the intensity of the combat — but because of a trend that was becoming increasingly clear.
According to the markings on the crumpled, worn defensive map she carried, her current position was still quite a distance from the main base of Defense Line 03, which was theoretically already lost.
This area was supposed to be a relatively safe depth zone.
At this point in time, at least, it should not have been a region where Shi Bian Ti appeared frequently.
But the reality was that the frequency of the attacks she encountered was becoming higher and higher.
Starting from the first few hours when she only occasionally sensed pollution fluctuations in the distance, she now encountered either lone or small groups of roaming Abnormal Beings almost every 1 or 2 kilometers.
Their patterns of movement were also becoming increasingly hard to grasp.
Sometimes they just wandered aimlessly, while other times they seemed to move with a vague intent of patrolling.
Worse yet was the issue of resources.
Chu You instinctively touched the somewhat thin magazine pouch on her waist and the side pocket of her tactical backpack.
The amount of ammunition she had left was running low.
She had only two and a half rifle magazines remaining, and her pistol rounds were nearly exhausted.
Even though she tried to use precise semi-automatic fire to save ammunition by seeking one-shot kills, and utilized the terrain and environment as much as possible to avoid unnecessary skirmishes, she estimated that her current stockpile could only support her through two or three more medium-scale encounters at the current frequency.
She looked away from the Shi Bian Ti corpse and toward the more striking scene beside her — several military vehicles that had crashed into one another with varying degrees of damage.
The front of a troop transport truck was deeply embedded in the side of an off-road SUV, causing the SUV to flip onto its side.
Behind them, a light armored vehicle seemed to have tried to swerve to avoid them, only to hit the rear of the SUV, leaving its doors deformed.
This was clearly a convoy that had lost control after a sudden attack.
Judging by the vehicle models and paint, they belonged to the logistics or communications unit of the 103rd Division.
They likely met with trouble during a transfer.
Chu You’s frown deepened.
Holding her rifle, she approached cautiously, her gaze scanning every inch of the area like a searchlight.
A strange feeling grew stronger — where were the bodies?
Even if they had been ambushed by Shi Bian Ti and everyone had been killed, the scene shouldn’t be this clean.
Normally, there should be the remains of fallen soldiers, blood splatter, scattered personal equipment, or even torn pieces of clothing.
While Shi Bian Ti did devour flesh, they usually left behind severed limbs, bones, a large amount of blood, and indigestible clothing fibers or metal accessories. But here?
Aside from the damage from the collision and some deep scratches that appeared to be made by the claws of a Shi Bian Ti, the ground was exceptionally clean.
There were no large bloodstains, no clothing fragments, no helmets, no dropped firearms or magazines… nothing.
It was as if the people in the vehicles had evaporated the moment they lost control, or had been taken away by some force in an extremely efficient and thorough manner.
This abnormal cleanliness was bone-chillingly eerie in a place that should have been a bloody and chaotic battlefield.
Chu You did not rush into the gaps between the vehicles.
Starting from the perimeter, she slowly circled the entire crash site, conducting a careful long-distance observation.
The moonlight provided limited illumination, and her eyes strained to adjust to the contrast between light and shadow, not missing any detail.
The direction of the wheels, the skid marks on the ground, the flattened vegetation nearby…
Everything pointed to a sudden, violent impact and stop, but there were no subsequent traces of human existence.
‘When things are this strange, there’s bound to be a catch.’
There was definitely something wrong with this place, and it might hide important clues.
She took a deep breath, suppressed the unease in her heart, and began to approach the vehicles.
First, she pulled at the door of the relatively intact troop transport truck next to the overturned SUV.
With a click, the passenger door actually opened easily; it hadn’t been locked.
The cabin was empty, containing only a few scattered documents and an overturned canteen.
She checked the other less-damaged vehicles and found a similar situation — there was always a door or a hatch that could be opened normally or with a little force.
Inside, aside from the standard vehicle equipment and some minor items, there were no traces of personnel or signs of an intense struggle.
Only the overturned SUV proved to be an exception.
Chu You walked to the SUV lying with its four wheels in the air and tried every door — the driver’s side, the passenger side, both rear doors, and even the trunk hatch.
All of them remained motionless, locked exceptionally tight.
This was not normal.
While such a violent rollover could deform the door structures, for four doors and the trunk to be simultaneously locked to the point that they couldn’t be pried open with brute force?
This felt more like… a conscious lockdown?
‘This is it.’
Chu You was certain.
The secret was likely inside this SUV that wouldn’t open.
She didn’t waste time looking for a crowbar or trying other complicated methods — she simply took two steps back and picked up a hard, fist-sized rock with sharp edges from the ground.
Her gaze locked onto the front windshield, which was already shattered like a spiderweb but mostly still attached to the frame.
Choosing an angle near the edge where it would be easier to apply force, she raised the rock and slammed it down with all her strength!
Bang! Crash!
In the silent Wilderness night, the sound was exceptionally piercing.
The glass finally shattered completely, caving in to create an opening.
Chu You quickly crouched down, listening alertly to her surroundings.
After confirming she hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention, she slung her rifle behind her back and crawled through the narrow opening.
The interior of the cabin was a mess due to the rollover.
All unsecured items were scattered, the seats were tilted, and the center console was cracked, filling the air with a faint smell of burnt electronics and dust.
Chu You steadied herself, turned on her miniature tactical flashlight, and began her search from the relatively easy-to-check center console area.
A broken dashboard, dropped radio components, empty map pouches… nothing unusual.
She then checked under the front seats and the glove compartment.
Next, she struggled to move her body toward the back.
The flashlight beam swept carefully through the gaps between the debris and the deformed seats.
The moment the light passed through the narrow crevice between the rear left seat and the door, a very faint, rhythmic green reflection caught her eye.
Chu You’s heart skipped a beat.
She held her breath, reached out her arm, and carefully cleared away some waste paper and an empty canteen that had fallen on top of it.
Finally, she saw the object.
It was a palm-sized, entirely black rectangular instrument lying quietly at the bottom of the crevice.
A small indicator light on its side was flashing a ghostly green glow at a steady frequency of about once per second.
Her fingers trembled slightly, but her movements remained steady as she slowly fished the cold instrument out of the gap.
When it finally landed in her palm, its familiar, cold industrial texture and its simple yet cruel design style allowed her to instantly confirm a certain suspicion.
She immediately pulled out an almost identical black instrument from the inner pocket of her tactical suit — the one she had previously discovered in that abandoned logistics warehouse.
Placing the two instruments side by side on the vehicle’s ceiling, she compared them carefully under the dim light of her flashlight.