It was supposed to be a casual game, but the Long March dungeon brought tears to everyone's eye

The animal husbandry leader could only slightly open his head, unwilling to close his eyes.

Then he pulled the bolt of his gun.

Click.

The crisp sound of the gun being cocked made Kuang Ge and his men catch their breath.

The old horse seemed to sense its final moment.

However, it leaned forward and nudged the man's chest with its head, making a low snort, as if comforting its comrade who was about to kill it.

The animal husbandry leader's hands were shaking.

But he gritted his teeth, his cheeks bulging with a hard muscle, and then opened his blurry eyes.

"Old friend... Rest in peace."

The foreman pressed the muzzle of his gun against the horse's ear.

Kuang Ge and his gang finally understood what those shots, each one, meant.

Those were warhorses, a cavalryman's second life.

The Red Legion, however, had no choice but to take their lives in exchange for their hope of survival.

If the horse isn't killed, the people will die.

And the first to die were the warhorses of the bigwigs from all sides.

Then gunfire erupted, and the order reached the animal husbandry squad leader, who was instructed to use the blood and flesh of his silent comrades to give the soldiers the strength to keep going.

Ruan Ruan covered her mouth, and tears instantly streamed down her face.

For emotional female gamers, the shock of watching their "comrades" get killed is more devastating than seeing mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

"Waaaaah..."

Ruanruan let out a soft whimper.

Hawkeye grabbed Ruan Ruan's shoulder, unable to bear it any longer.

"Don't look." Hawkeye turned his head away, his breathing erratic. "Don't make a sound."

Qin Zhenguo, sitting in front of the screen, opened his mouth, then tremblingly took off his reading glasses.

"This is like cutting off one's own flesh..." Qin Zhenguo sighed.

At the same time, a shot rang out, then stopped.

Only after the last echo disappeared did Crazy Brother feel his muscles slowly relax.

But that relaxation wasn't comfortable; instead, it carried a chill that was even stronger than before.

No one spoke.

Not long after, the stubble-faced head of the animal husbandry team returned with a few people.

None of them rode horses, but they carried several heavy, blood-soaked burlap sacks on their shoulders.

The young soldiers in the group, who had been somewhat restless, looked at the sacks and, like wilted eggplants, lowered their heads, none daring to meet the eyes of the feeding squad leader, who was red and swollen.

The old squad leader stood up, patted the mud off his backside, and waved his one-armed hand.

"Let's go to the mess hall and get the supplies."

Several burlap sacks were placed on that small, slightly dry patch of high ground.

The bag was untied, revealing dark red chunks of meat inside.

There was no scene of large chunks of meat being cut up as I had imagined.

The horse looked quite large, but when you actually took it off, it was like a handful of salt thrown into the ocean compared to the huge caravan.

Those assigned to Kuang Ge's class only received a palm-sized piece of meat, which wasn't even pure meat; it was still attached to white fascia, and the horse bones that had to be handed over had to be removed.

Because those horse bones were meant to be used to make soup for the seriously wounded.

The remaining bit of meat was so bright red it was almost blinding, making one's heart race.

"What are you looking at! Everyone, come over here!"

The old squad leader roared, breaking the deathly silence of the entire class.

He found a bluestone slab whose surface had been relatively smoothed by rainwater, but he didn't wash it with water, nor did he dare to.

He pulled out the chipped knife from his waist and gestured at the palm-sized piece of horse meat.

The knife fell, very lightly, very slowly.

The meat was sliced ​​as thin as cicada wings.

There was some blood on the stone slab.

If this were in a vegetable market on Earth, this blood would be disgustingly flushed down the drain.

But after the old squad leader finished cutting the meat, he stretched out his finger, which was as rough as tree bark, and scraped it hard on the stone slab.

a bit.

Two times.

He scraped the dark red blood onto his fingertips, then turned and carefully smeared it onto a handful of freshly dug wild vegetable leaves.

"Sizzle."

He threw the wild vegetable leaves into the cooking pot that had just boiled water.

"This is all energy and spirit, the strength borrowed from the horse, we can't waste it."

The old squad leader lowered his head, staring at the boiling water in the pot, his voice very low.

"If we eat it, we can help them get out of this meadow."

……

The fire was made of cow dung; it produced a lot of smoke that stung the eyes.

The water has boiled.

The slices of horse meat were put into the pot, mixed with bitter wild vegetables, and tumbled in the boiling water.

A thin layer of fat floats on the surface of the horse meat; though it's scarce, it releases a dizzying aroma.

There was no salt, no scallions, ginger, or garlic, let alone cooking wine to remove the fishy smell.

There was only a strong, earthy, and sour meaty smell.

The smell was definitely not pleasant under normal circumstances; in fact, it could be described as unpleasant. But at this moment, it made the Adam's apples bob wildly as several heads gathered around the pot moved around.

That is the most primal desire of living beings.

There wasn't much meat; it was mostly soup.

The old squad leader took the wooden spoon and began to distribute the food.

The first spoonful was given to Xiaohu.

The second spoonful was given to Xiaodouzi.

The two teenagers held the broken bowl, their eyes fixed on the two or three thin slices of meat inside. They didn't even care that it was hot, and stuck out their tongues to lick the soup that had splashed out from the edge of the bowl.

After they finished eating, it was the turn of the other soldiers.

Finally, it was the turn of Madman, Hawkeye, and Softie.

The old squad leader paused for a moment.

He stirred the bottom of the pot vigorously, as if trying to scoop gold out of the bland broth.

Then, with a splash, he poured a full spoonful into Kuang Ge's bowl.

Next up is Hawkeye, and Softie.

Each of the three people had three or four pieces of meat in their bowls, and these were clearly the thickest pieces of meat.

This portion was more than the amount in Xiaodouzi's bowl, and even more than the soup base in the old squad leader's own bowl; it was far more than enough.

The air suddenly went silent for a second.

Little Bean looked up from his bowl, glanced at the meat in Brother Kuang's bowl, subconsciously licked his lips, but said nothing, and then lowered his head to drink the soup.

Crazy Brother's hand froze in mid-air.

He looked at the meat in the bowl, then at the old squad leader's empty sleeve, and his brows furrowed instantly.

If it were before, when he first entered the game, he might have accepted it without any qualms.

After all, he's a player, the protagonist.

But now, this bowl of meat is so hot it's making him panic.

"Squad leader, this isn't right." Kuang Ge pushed the bowl back, his throat tightening. "Give it to Xiao Douzi and the others. I'm a grown man, I can hold my hunger..."

"Snapped!"

The old squad leader slammed his wooden spoon heavily against the edge of the pot.

That weathered face now held none of its usual kindness, only an undeniable murderous aura.

Those cloudy eyes stared intently at Kuang Ge, like an old wolf protecting its cubs, or a commander reprimanding a new recruit.

"Shut up."

Two words landed on the ground.

"Give it to me."

The old squad leader's voice had a ruthless edge to it.

"Don't try to pull that Kong Rong sharing pears act on me."

"This is a meadow, not a stage!"