Chapter 24 Chapter 24: Temporary Camp
Chapter 24: Temporary Camp
"Woo-hoo! That's Sarkaz expletive how it should be!"
Witnessing the power of this shot through the observation scope.
W felt her blood boiling, an unparalleled sense of excitement and pleasure welling up inside her. She had clearly perfectly grasped the designer's original intent!
What a shame, it was agreed to only fire one shot.
Reluctantly, she rubbed the firing handle, forcefully suppressing the urge to fire another shot. With obvious lingering satisfaction on her face, she returned to the vehicle and rolled down the driver's side window.
"Come on, get in."
She made a gesture. Six ⑨ four ⑨ three ⑥ one ③ five
Her proficient manner made it seem as if W was the owner of this vehicle.
"Let's go."
Kevin took Pozëmka into the back seat. Hardt and Ines exchanged a glance, silently transferred the supplies from their original vehicle into the trunk of this one, and then got in.
After that one shot, they had absolutely no doubts about this vehicle's safety anymore.
"Hey, hurry up! Hardt!"
W urged while comfortably leaning back into the seat with its just-right firmness.
"This thing is way better than your old junk."
Satisfied, she wriggled in the seat; she had never sat in something so comfortable before.
Hardt's face darkened. Compliment it if you want, but why drag my vehicle into it? If it weren't for my "old junk," you'd still be scavenging in that buffer zone right now.
"Key, key, where is it~"
"No key needed. Press the button in the center of the steering wheel."
Kevin prompted.
W understood and pressed it once.
Vroom!
The vehicle body shook slightly, and a futuristic-looking floating data screen appeared, displaying speed, road condition analysis, and some route guidance.
"Wow, high-tech stuff really is different."
W floored the accelerator, and a powerful thrust pushed her back into the seat.
This armored vehicle shot forward like an arrow from a bow, bursting forth with an exaggerated speed completely mismatched for its size!
——
Evening,
W hummed an unknown tune, carrying some dry branches and firewood, looking in a very good mood.
"Hey, Hardt, what kind of people do you think they really are?"
She suddenly asked. W wasn't as carefree as she appeared on the surface. She kept some things and thoughts deeply hidden and saw things very clearly.
"People who could crush us at any moment."
Hardt rolled his eyes. This statement seemed simple but was actually a warning to W not to get any funny ideas.
It expressed the most realistic problem they currently faced in the most direct way.
"Tch, can't you Sarkaz expletive speak properly? Don't I know that myself! Do I need you to keep repeating it?!"
W thought she shouldn't have expected any constructive answer from this guy.
By the time the two returned to the camp, night had deepened, and the sun had completely set.
The campfire was lit!
Bright flames dispelled a patch of darkness, providing a fragile resting place for those temporarily staying here.
Hardt lifted his supply box from the trunk: large chunks of black bread, a few cans, salted dried meat from an unknown animal, and even several bottles of alcohol and water.
"It seems we'll need to replenish supplies a bit when we reach the next town."
He had originally prepared enough for nearly five days. It wasn't that he didn't want to keep more, but given Kazdel's current weather, supplies simply couldn't last much longer.
As for canned goods with long shelf lives, they were too expensive. They could be exchanged for eight or nine times their weight in staple foods that could fill stomachs. These few cans were only obtained after wiping out another group of mercenaries.
Those black market merchants were also heartless. Goods imported from other countries were often resold at five or six times the price.
And they were cunning devils; they never stepped a foot outside safe towns. Even if you wanted to take action against them, it wasn't possible. So even for Hardt and his team, their funds weren't exactly plentiful.
But there was no helping it. Kazdel simply didn't have proper production areas. War had ravaged this land back and forth many times over; famine was widespread.
The vast majority of Sarkaz had lost all means of livelihood other than killing. In a positive feedback loop, it wasn't surprising that the Sarkaz mercenary label became famous across this land.
Cutting a few slices of black bread and a piece of dried meat, taking a bottle of diluted alcohol, Hardt glanced at those cans, gritted his teeth, and still took two.
"Come on, food's ready. Will you join us,
Mr. Kevin, Miss Pozëmka."
Along the way, he hadn't failed to gather some information; at least he knew Kevin and Pozëmka's names by now.
Of course, they could also be pseudonyms.
"Hmm."
Kevin thought for a moment, then nodded and brought Pozëmka to sit by the campfire.
"Aren't these cans your precious treasures? You're actually willing to bring them out today?"
W feigned surprise, but Hardt put on an "eat it or don't" expression, refusing to take the bait at all, and handed one of them to Kevin.
"Thank you."
Kevin nodded. He didn't refuse Hardt's gesture of goodwill.
Hardt finished cutting the black bread—exactly ten slices—and broke a piece of dried meat into a pot to steam with some wild vegetables gathered while collecting firewood.
Each person got two slices of black bread and a bowl of wild vegetable minced meat soup. Hardt's team of three shared one can; Kevin and Pozëmka shared another can.
An extremely meager dinner, not even enough to fill their stomachs. But for many Sarkaz mercenaries traveling in the wilderness, this was already quite luxurious fare.
Hardt's trio ate quietly. Even the most boisterous W was uncharacteristically quiet at this time.
Very salty... Was extra salt added to increase shelf life?
After tasting the canned meat, Kevin stopped Pozëmka who was about to try it. He then gave her a meaningful look. She understood and nodded, getting up to leave.
.......
"Eat this instead."
W, who was quietly eating her meal, looked up in surprise, meeting Pozëmka's full-of-affinity smile head-on.
She held several long loaves of bread in her arms and handed two to W. Beneath the golden-brown crust was silky bread; a hint of sweetness seemed to tease one's taste buds.
W was momentarily at a loss, somewhat unaccustomed to her gentle actions.
W looked towards Hardt.
"Miss Pozëmka, this is too precious. We cannot accept it."
Hardt hurriedly refused.
"Oh my, this is Kevin's idea. Besides, you shared your food with us. Why won't you accept what we offer?"
She glanced at Kevin sitting in place and chuckled lightly.
"Well then... thank Mr. Kevin for us."
Seeing he couldn't refuse further, Hardt accepted.
It wasn't that he lacked mercenary vigilance; it was that if Kevin wanted to kill them, he wouldn't need such a troublesome method at all.
"Here, take it."
Pozëmka stuffed the bread into W's palm.
Her eyes hesitated for a moment before she grasped it. She scratched her head and said somewhat awkwardly: "Tha... thank you."
She completely lacked her daytime persona as a hot-tempered mercenary; instead, she resembled a little girl feeling embarrassed about accepting something.
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