Outside, a chaotic clatter of footsteps sounded, more than ten people at least.
Yet, Chen Feng’s expression did not betray too much anxiety. Although the number of opponents was significant, they didn’t give him a sense of dread. With Demon Horn, Chen Feng’s sixth sense was significantly heightened, allowing him to clearly sense nearby danger.
Soon, a dozen people braved the heavy rain and stormed in. Their attire was fairly decent, and their mouths were spewing curses, mostly complaints about the weather.
These people carried some weapons and a lot of packs; from the visible traces, it wasn’t hard to tell that these were mostly food and daily supplies.
Scavengers, Battle Group, Exploration Camp.
This kind of team formation went by many names; it was clear they engaged in work similar to search parties—collecting everything possible in the wilderness.
Upon spotting someone inside the room, their expressions froze, with a hint of amusement in their eyes. Among the group, a man missing his index finger emerged, seemingly the leader. He examined Chen Feng with a composed face and furrowed brow, saying, "It’s raining outside; we’re just here to find shelter."
Chen Feng remained unconcerned.
A glint of malice flashed in the man’s eyes, but it was quickly concealed. His gaze roved again, sizing up Flora before resting on her delicate face, a look of surprise flitting through his eyes.
But soon his gaze shifted back to Chen Feng, who only sat there silently, paying no heed—not disrespect, but rather disregard.
It felt as though his group didn’t merit Chen Feng’s attention, sitting by the campfire without engaging.
In situations like this, either one is a fool or has absolute confidence in their own strength.
The wilderness is a hero’s heaven, and simultaneously a hero’s Hell.
Weeks of hunting and searching had forced them away from crowds. Women were the rarest necessary resource; at this moment, Flora’s presence was undeniably tantalizing to the men.
The fingerless man pondered while the underlings behind him began to stir.
Flora’s appearance was too alluring, her body exquisite, her waist slender as a bee, her feet like jade; even with a cold demeanor, she still stirred some agitation in the men’s hearts.
Watchful.
Flora noticed a hint of something; she raised her head, her face full of disgust, her brows seemingly sharp like blades, rising up.
A killing intent surfaced.
She sensed some disrespect in their eyes.
The chaotic will of the Abyss affected the residents there; many incidents began due to a wrong glance, escalating into war stories, even initially just demons brawling, eventually turning into full-fledged racial wars. These stories were not unheard of.
Tens of thousands of demons and dark creatures clashed; who would have thought the first cause was merely a fleeting look in a crowd.
Flora’s fragility only showed in front of Chen Feng; to others, she remained the Master of Fist who could smash an Ogre’s skull in an instant.
The dignity of the strong cannot be sullied.
These people seemed to be playing with fire.
Flora, seemingly furious, but in the eyes of those men, appeared as something else—untamable wildness. She was like a leopard, increasing their desire to conquer.
This made the men breathe heavily; Flora’s beauty was something they had never witnessed, even their first meeting couldn’t mask the superfluous thoughts within.
Some men’s throats even began to roll.
In the wilderness, the Battle Group wouldn’t act as civilized as in the city; betrayal and bullying the weak occurred frequently.
Desire was growing, some even drew their weapons, their lips curled into a sinister smile, intentions crystal clear.
"What are you doing?!"
The fingerless man’s face changed drastically, speaking angrily, "Get over there, the rain will stop and we still have to move, hurry and rest!"
This was a professional.
He was the leader of this group, possessing strong authority, all these people worked under him.
Though others felt unwilling, being scolded by the fingerless man, they grudgingly sat aside yet still glanced at Chen Feng, evidently scheming other ideas.
The fingerless man was neither a saint nor a good man; he understood the world’s new standard... survival of the fittest.
Teaming up to find food signified not only decent strength but hinted these people were ruthless, calmness just a facade. To the fingerless man, if the pair were mere ordinary people, he’d attack without hesitation.
In the apocalypse, this was common. Initially, conscience might weigh heavily, but after adapting, these things seemed trivial.
In the wilderness, aside from daily hunts and searches, the greatest source of wealth was plundering.
This was a pack of dark wolves, preying on solitary travelers to seize their goods and weapons.
But now.
The situation clearly seemed off.
Just when his subordinates attempted to make a move, Chen Feng raised his head. His gaze seemed to hold a tremendous fear, his expression cold and authoritative. This single glance left the fingerless man bewildered, standing in place for several minutes before snapping back.
One glance left him so fearful.
A foreboding feeling filled his heart.
The fingerless man sensed something, promptly stopping his subordinates, luckily avoiding a grave mistake.
Not just that, the young woman’s aura was very peculiar, her face filled with killing intent which didn’t seem faked; being a professional, his sixth sense was far keener than others, her gaze sent shivers down his spine.
The fingerless man shuddered, some terrible thoughts sprouting in his mind.
The strength of those two individuals could not be underestimated.
The fingerless man sat in the corner, deciding not to focus on the pair any longer, only wishing to leave the factory once the rain let up a bit.
Chen Feng lifted his head.
His gaze passed over the fingerless man’s face, somewhat indifferent, recognizing that his actions had spared his group from catastrophe.
Only one professional among them; for this trash Battle Group, Chen Feng could destroy them with just a finger twitch.
This world isn’t short on smart individuals.
Perhaps his cautious nature was the main reason the fingerless man had survived so long. The factory was large; the men sat in the corner quietly, or perhaps under the fingerless man’s rebuke, their voices became faint mumbles, daring not to speak loudly.
Chen Feng had no mood to waste words or time on these people; if they showed any hostility, he’d simply kill them all.
After all, here in the apocalypse, the most worthless thing is human life.