The exoskeleton is convenient to wear, but not so convenient to take off.

The warrior who got into the woods struggled for a while before taking off all his equipment and bringing it out and handing it over to Kakarot.

"Good brother, I leave my clothes to you!"

Now he was wearing a torn sack on his body and carrying one in his hand. He looked more like a scavenger than a scavenger. His shabby appearance made Lao Hei want to take out his wallet.

Kakarot simply extended his hand.

"Where's the VM? Hand it over too."

"Damn! How can I mark the location without VM?"

"Are you stupid? You can't go offline and go to the official website to mark it?" Kakarot rolled his eyes, "Besides wearing this thing, besides proving that you are a resident of the shelter, is there any other use?

"

"That's right... I can go offline and report my points."

The Battlefield Atmosphere Team suddenly realized this, and decisively took the VM off his arm and stuffed it into Kakarot's hand.

Lao Hei stared at him with a strange expression on his face until the figure disappeared into the woods.

"Is this guy really okay?"

Kakarot grinned and patted his shoulder.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter if the person is in trouble or not, as long as the equipment is fine. Let's go, it's time for us to set off!"

The group of people divided into two groups.

Kakarot and I returned to the Stormtroops' camp in the east, while Warlord followed the survivors' footsteps and headed northwest alone.

It has not been an uneventful journey.

Maybe this costume was too deceptive, maybe it was because he was alone, and even the mutant hyena dared to come and take advantage of him.

Thanks to his level, he has broken through the LV20 bottleneck and his genetic sequence has reached the third stage.

Even without a thermal weapon, he still relied on his agility and the weapons he picked up casually, and he still easily killed the two hyenas that rushed towards him, and scared away the last one.

"Damn it, I should have kept a dagger on my body!" Looking at the hair and blood on his hand, the warlord threw away the branch that was broken into two parts and cursed.

Only then did he suddenly realize that walking alone in the wasteland without a weapon seemed more strange than carrying a gun.

However, it is too late to think about this issue now.

He randomly picked up a wooden stick and sharpened it with a stone to use as a short spear, and the warrior continued to move forward along the tracks on the ground.

After walking for about ten kilometers, from morning to noon, we finally passed through the dense jungle and arrived at a relatively open area.

The sound of gurgling water was heard not far away, and Warfield's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Water source!"

"It should be not far ahead!"

As we all know, the best place to camp is near a water source, and the larger the team, the more upstream areas should be chosen as much as possible.

Realizing that the legion's camp was nearby, the warlord was not in a hurry and walked straight to the stream, intending to clean the sticky blood on his hands and wash his face at the same time.

However, just when he was about to grab some water with his hand and prepare to splash it on his face, the movement of his hand suddenly stopped.

"Tsk... The character in my game is so handsome. If you get closer, you will definitely notice something wrong."

This is not possible.

Rolling his eyes, the warlord simply let go, picked up a piece of mud from the river and smeared it on his face. After rubbing it, he looked at the water again and nodded with satisfaction.

good.

It finally looks like that.

That's why it smells weird.

Without staying at the edge of the stream for too long, the warlord hung up the wooden stick in his hand and searched upstream, intending to find the specific location of the camp, and then look for iconic reference objects nearby before leaving.

However, what he didn't expect was that before he reached the camp, he ran into several soldiers holding rifles and wearing black robes.

The other party obviously noticed him and looked straight in his direction.

His heart jumped into his throat, and the warlord secretly thought that something was going to happen, and he tightened the stick in his hand.

but

The elite monster standing in front of him seemed to be confused by his attire. He did not directly trigger the battle, but raised his gun and aimed at him in a wary manner.

"stop!"

The warrior stopped obediently and took the initiative to throw away the sharpened stick in his hand without waiting for the opponent to let him drop his weapon.

The soldier stared at him and continued.

"who are you?"

"me"

Zhan Di was about to answer, but the couplet was too stretched. There were only a few words in his mind. After searching for a while, he couldn't make them up. He was so anxious that he almost broke out in sweat.

but……

It was precisely because of his reaction that the opponent relaxed his vigilance.

Looking at the frightened wastelander with disdain, the soldier's eyes clearly showed a bit of contempt.

"Scavengers?"

The warlord's eyes lit up and he nodded quickly.

"Yep!"

"Where did the blood on your body come from?"

The warlord shook the sack in his hand, slowly reached into it, and took out the mutated hyena with bloody flesh inside.

Seeing the branch stuck around the dog's neck, several soldiers looked at each other with mockery in their brows and words.

"I told you, the survivors here are like monkeys."

"Tsk, tsk, you don't even have a decent weapon, and you're still fighting alien species with your bare hands."

"It's a shame they can survive."

"They will thank us. At least we have brought civilization to them!"

The leading soldier didn't speak, but he no longer had any doubts. He lowered the muzzle of the gun in his hand, pointed to his feet, and then pointed to the woods behind him.

"Throw everything here, people move forward."

Although the warlord heard it half-understood, he could still understand the gestures, and he felt confused about whether to laugh or cry.

What the hell is going on?

He just planned to come and take a look before leaving, but he didn't expect to be caught as a scavenger.

The soldiers obviously had no intention of letting him go.

The warlord only hesitated for half a second, then obediently put down the things in his hands and walked obediently in the direction pointed by the soldier's finger.

After advancing about five or six hundred meters, a spacious camp gate came into view.

The camp is adjacent to hills to the north, and not far to the east is a stream flowing from a mountain stream.

The entire camp is large, but the facilities are extremely simple, with only a row of wooden fence walls, a few scattered wooden sentry towers, and a few dozen tents.

Soldiers in black robes were standing guard and patrolling nearby. The number was unknown, but it was probably no less than two centurions.

The center of the camp was filled with darkness, and they were obviously survivors who had been driven here. It was also impossible to count their number, but it could only be estimated that it should not be less than five thousand.

If they had not gathered together, the warlords would not have imagined that there would be so many survivors living in the small Ruigu City.

Unlike him who was empty-handed, everyone here was carrying large and small bags of luggage, and their faces all had expressions of confusion, fear, or sluggishness.

Most of them were involuntarily taken to this strange place and stayed with a group of people they had never seen before.

Before the warlord could recover, he was pushed and pushed behind the team at the entrance of the camp by a soldier in a daze at gunpoint.

There was a table at the door, and an officer was sitting behind it. He was holding a pen in his hand, writing on the paper, and casually throwing a sign with a number on it to the survivors standing in front of the table.

Finally arrived at War Land.

The officer tapped the table with his pen. Seeing that the man was so stupid that he didn't respond, he said impatiently.

"name."

The warlord could understand this everyday expression, but of course he couldn't report his own game as D. That would be too strange.

In desperation, he blurted out.

"Pangolin."

The officer said nothing, casually drew a few strokes on the paper, and then threw the sign to the warlord. Most of the wastelanders were uneducated. Not to mention using animals as their names, there were quite a few who used tables and stools as their names.

The warlord suspected that this guy didn't even listen to what he said, but he didn't stop in front of the door. He glanced at the numbers on the sign and walked into the camp.
To be continued...