Yecheng took Muling butterfly's hand and walked fast through the woods. Bullets whistle past, hitting trees and dirt from time to time, rubbing past the bodies of the two men several times, barely touching them.

Rain soaked their clothes and ran down their cheeks. Because of the heavy rain and the transpiration of fog, there is a haze in the jungle. Streams converge on the ground, the soil is slippery, and even where withered branches and leaves exist, they immediately sink into the ground and half of their legs are amputated.

"These people are well-trained, they've copied from three directions, and it's dangerous to go on like this." Yecheng raised...