In the almost forgotten northern continent of Pai Shangxing, there is an frozen land. Although the planet is generally humid and stuffy, here, there is an eternal roar of shattering ice every day.
Among them, there is a valley with cliffs of 9 kilometers deep and starlight shining at its top. The ancient ice layer is so white that it can hurt people's eyes by just a moment of staring.
As the ice falls, the ice gradually turns from white to translucent blue, dark purple, and eventually a crimson red similar to algae - these algae that were frozen in rock ice billions of years ago stained the ice with their own fuel and juice.
The screaming cold wind blew over countless sharp ice cubes on the top of the valley, and the howling wind was twisted and amplified by the narrow valley.
The howling sounded in his ears, Hank Evans, who was walking on the scarlet ice slope at the bottom of the valley, was slipping and rolling all the time, and the harsh wind kept hitting, trying to blow away his camouflage cloak.
Despite the insulation effect of cloaks, gloves and cold-proof clothing, he still felt that he was numb from the cold.
This feeling—or, to say, has replaced the discomfort that was an hour ago.
Even if he just wanted to lie down, he never understood why he, a mate, ran to this damn planet full of heretics and demons, and was chased by a large group of screaming cultists as soon as he landed?
More and more gunfires sounded, and countless bullets flew in his direction. He was even used to the strange sounds caused by the impact of bullets with the ice here: when the scorching bullets hit the ice, it first made a wet burst, followed by the hissing of steam.
The ice quickly re-freezes after melting around the black bullet holes, countless black wounds and perfect circles dotted with the red ice around him.
Soon, he slid into a deeper depression in the ice and lowered his body.
But the gunfire is increasing, low and desperate.
One of the bullets was almost a palm-width distance from the top of his head, and its echo was buzzing.
Soon after, the noise turned into a silence, or rather, the continuous howling of the enemy was almost silent in the vast snow and ice.
Hank Evans turned over, his chin shrank against his chest, and looked back along the valley as he came.
Except for a wrinkled black object a hundred meters behind him, there was no trace or anything. He knew that the unlucky guy who stepped on the trap.
But he only had two of these portable traps, and the boss only gave him two.
Speaking of his boss, Rozim, the best chef of the Warring States and the investor of the restaurant chain brand in the Nest, Hank Evans, doesn't know if the other party is dead.
However, based on Rozim's usual performance, he felt that several cultists might not be able to come to each other.
He struggled to stand up and glanced at his gun. The scope lens on the gun body had cracked and was covered with ice formed by the evaporation of moisture from his eyes.
Hank Evans cursed and took a few steps back, firing three random shots into the darkness of the canyon. In response, ten guns opened fire at him at the same time, blew a man-made blizzard in the ice dust.
He then hid in a cave, a low vaulted cave formed by the slow movement of the earth's crust on the ice cliff.
Hank Evans was panting, and the shrapnel wound on his thigh kept tinging his nerves.
He half-kneeled nearest to the hole, laying face down on the ice, trying hard to install the trap until the severe cold pain made him turn over.
But the sudden heat in the cave was suffocating. Although it was only a few degrees above zero, it was almost tropical compared to the ice and snow.
So Hank Evans took off his cloak and gloves, and after a while, his insulation vest was also taken off. He shivered, wet and hot, and sweat flowed down his back like water vapor in a sauna, and a lot of sweat wet his insulation suit.
He checked his legs and found a hole in his pants in the middle of his thighs, which looked like they were burned through by melted things.
Then he realized that the reason why he was not bleeding was because the blood had been frozen by the cold environment, so he endured the severe pain and broke the black ice from his thighs, and then saw the wet scars on his legs.
He cursed Rozim's name, which was not the first time he cursed in his battle group's minion career, and of course it wouldn't be the last time. Then he reached out to get his medical bag and opened it.
Hank Evans took out the wire fixing clip and followed the instructions during basic medical training.
But badly, the wire clip was frozen, and his numb fingers could only tweak it hard on the ground, but they still couldn't open it.
In desperation, it took him a long time to remove a needle from the sterile paper bag. He had removed several needles before.
Hank Evans bit the needle and tried to find the loose part of the suture.
Finally, he clamped the thread with his numb fingers, picked up the needle, and wanted to penetrate it into the needle hole.
But he felt it was more difficult to penetrate the pinhole than to shoot a laser gun with a very poor head towards the bull's eye ten kilometers away.
After trying 20 times, Hank Evans bit the needle again with his teeth and tried to twist the worn thread together with his hands.
Suddenly, something beat him hard from behind and smashed his head into the snow.
Hank Evans lay on the ground in panic, and gradually heard the snoring and whimpering sounds coming from behind. His tongue hurts and his mouth is covered in blood.
A huge object slowly walked towards him.
He slowly turned his head and glanced at the thing, just like a man looking in the mirror while shaving.
This is a dirty mutant, almost two meters tall, wearing simple iron armor, covered with huge muscles that ordinary people can't imagine, and its head is large, almost twice as big as that of a human, and its head is very similar to a goat, with huge horns stretching forward, and black teeth sticking out of its rotten gums like chisels.
He could not see the thing's eyes, but he could smell the smell of smell and the corrosive saliva that dripped from his half-open mouth.
Hank Evans, who pretended to be dead, was just seeing it playing with his medical bag with his big hands that could easily break a human throat like a broken branch, and turned out a roll of gauze, bit it, chew it, and then spit it out.
It's hungry—
Hank Evans was so scared that he was motionless by the idea.
Suddenly, it walked towards him, pulled his hair up, pulled him back like a puppet, and rummaged through his clothes with his other hand.
Hank Evans twitched, blood flowing out of his open mouth, splattering onto his chest.
He continued to pretend to be dead, but his left hand quietly reached towards the knife around his waist.
The giant beastman repeatedly shook him like a bag of bones, then sniffed Hank Evans's ear with his mouth and nose.
The heat came and the smell was circulating in his nose.
The dirty mutant creature muttered a few mysterious words, which made Hank Evans nervous and hurriedly slide the knife out of the scabbard.
He moved at an extremely fast speed and was about to stab the other person with a knife.