Transmigrated into the body of a villain, I became my sister's savior.

Three days later, the group set off from the East China Sea again, following the same route.

Inside the logistics company, Lao Mu instructed Sun Jian, "Brother Jian, practice makes perfect."

He lit a cigarette, squinted, and looked into the distance: "This time, I'll try to memorize the route carefully."

These veterans who followed Sun Hao will eventually retire or fall ill, and then Sun Jian will have to send someone to take over.

Sun Jian nodded, and the group set off.

When passing by a farmhouse, the old man who was leading the way stopped there again.

Everyone rested and selected weapons.

After choosing his weapon, A-Qiang asked Lao-Mu for the same cloth bag he had last time to put it in.

Old Mu waved his hand: "No need this time, just take it for self-defense."

Ah Qiang was slow-witted and it took him a while to realize that the weapons were confiscated last time to prevent anyone from turning against them.

The group, fully armed, got back into the car. The car started again and continued driving.

Around three o'clock in the afternoon, they crossed the port city.

The city gradually fell behind, and the surroundings became desolate.

The road was lined with farmland and simple houses, and there were few pedestrians.

Occasionally, barefoot children would stand by the roadside, staring blankly and numbly as the convoy drove by.

The road had turned into a whitish dirt road.

The road is bumpy and uneven, and it often makes people feel like they're flying.

The car can't go very fast at all; it's basically running in second gear the whole time.

After walking for about half an hour, a sound like popping beans suddenly rang out from ahead.

The group was stunned for a moment, their first thought being that someone was setting off firecrackers.

Old Mu had already slammed on the brakes and stopped the car.

The tire left a shallow mark on the dirt road.

The cars stopped and everyone got out.

"It's gunshots." Old Mu listened for a while, his expression calm. "Don't be afraid, the sound is quite far away."

How could anyone not be afraid?

The group looked around and shrank back, feeling as if stray bullets might fly over.

Old Mu was very familiar with the surrounding terrain. He led everyone to crouch down and run to the farmland, then around to a small hill on the side.

I lay down on it and looked down through binoculars.

In the distance from the hill, there is a basin.

Several dilapidated farmhouses are scattered among them.

The dirt road they were walking on passed right between those houses.

The two groups were using the houses as cover and firing at each other from a distance.

Old Mu handed the binoculars to Sun Jian and explained, "Warlord warfare... such a scene is rare."

The telescope passed through everyone's hands.

Ah Qiang felt bullets whizzing past his head. He clasped the Guan Yu statue hanging around his neck and bowed, muttering, "I only see about ten people on each side. Is this what you call a warlord?"

Old Mu lay prone in the grass and explained, "Having an armed force of about a hundred people is considered a considerable power."

"Ten or so people is one-tenth of the total force, which is quite a lot."

Sun Jian also said, "I've heard my dad say that there are some armed groups here, only about a dozen or twenty people."

Old Mu nodded: "There are many armed groups of all sizes here, popping up one after another like crops."

He pointed to the two groups of people below, "I've heard some things about these two families."

"I heard it's because they're vying for an industrial park. You know, one of those internet information technology companies—you know what I mean?"

Several people nodded.

Who doesn't understand?

Now that pyramid schemes have decreased, telecom fraud parks have become rampant, specifically targeting their own compatriots.

This has led to a significant outflow of capital.

Capital outflows and idle funds circulating in financial games are also important reasons for the sluggishness of the real economy.

In recent years, the government has taken action to rectify the situation, and the situation has improved a lot, but it has not been completely eliminated.

These parks are usually protected by armed forces.

Or some parks are simply cash cows for these armed groups.

Old Mu continued, "One of them suffered a defeat elsewhere, and the other saw an opportunity and wanted to rob them."

"It's gotten into a huge mess."

After about twenty minutes, the gunfire stopped.

Perhaps both sides have run out of bullets.

The two sides seemed to have reached a stalemate, drawing their daggers and other weapons and remaining locked in a standoff for a while.

But no real hand-to-hand combat ensued; after a while, the two groups dispersed.

They each dragged their wounded to their vehicles and drove away.

The sun was very strong, making people dizzy.

But Lao Mu remained calm and patiently waited for another half hour to make sure no one returned.

He then stood up and patted the dirt off his clothes.

"Walk."

The car started up again and drove through the battlefield where the fighting had just begun.

Shell casings were scattered on the dirt road outside the car window, and bloodstains seeped into the soil, only to be covered by the dust kicked up by the tires.

None of them spoke. Lin Jianshen looked at the mineral water in the sunlight, unscrewed the cap, and drank the whole bottle in one gulp.

After driving for a while, around 4:30 pm, we arrived at a small town.

It's called a small town, but it's really just a dirt road with a few simple houses scattered on both sides.

There were shops selling groceries, repair shops, and a few places that looked like restaurants.

There were even two hair salons, with several local women sitting at the entrance soliciting customers.

A few locals were squatting by the roadside, their eyes lighting up slightly as they watched their convoy drive by.

If someone comes, there might be business.

Doing business in such a place is very risky.

But there was nothing that could be done; small countries suffer from disorder and widespread poverty.

Many people were displaced due to the warlord conflicts and had no choice but to make a living in this way.

The car stopped in front of the industrial park.

The gate was made of sheet metal, rusted and covered with barbed wire.

Two young men stood at the entrance, wearing domestically made camouflage uniforms and carrying old rifles on their shoulders.

Upon seeing that it was Lao Mu, one of the young men walked over, peered through the car window, and then picked up the walkie-talkie and said a few words.

The door creaked open.

Upon entering, you'll see an open space with a rough, uneven cement surface.

Needless to say, it will definitely flood on rainy days.

The open space was surrounded by rows of three-story buildings with cheap white paint on the exterior walls.

In many places, the plaster has peeled off, revealing the grayish cement underneath.

The upstairs windows are covered with security bars, so many of them are like birdcages, it looks very oppressive.

A dozen or so people, all with yellow skin and black hair, stood sparsely on the cement ground—it was their turn to keep watch.

These people were wearing cheap T-shirts and slippers, their expressions were blank, and their eyes were empty.

Some people were squatting in the corner, while others were pacing back and forth aimlessly.

Lin Jianshen sensed a desperate atmosphere of being unable to survive emanating from them.

Several armed guards walked around, their gun barrels hanging idly, but their eyes swept over everyone like eagles.

Their military skills are not up to par; on this ground, the gun barrels should be pointed towards the sky.

Otherwise, if it misfires, it could easily ricochet and cause friendly fire.

Perhaps they weren't unaware, but simply didn't care whether these people lived or died.

Old Mu stopped the car and turned off the engine: "Wait a moment, Brother Qing will be here soon."

About five or six minutes later, a burly man with a buzz cut walked over.

Two young men carrying guns followed behind him.

The man smiled as soon as he saw Sun Jian: "Ah Jian!"

He strode over and opened his arms.

Sun Jian also greeted him with a smile: "Brother Qing."

The two hugged tightly and patted each other's backs.

Brother Qing was one of the earliest followers of Sun Hao, and he was one of his most trusted confidants.

His gaze swept over the group of people behind Sun Jianjian, lingered on Lin Jianshen's face for a moment, and then moved away.

Lin Jianshen sensed something was wrong, because he had met Brother Qing once before.

I wonder if Brother Qing still remembers him after all these years.

Qing glanced at his watch: "This shipment should arrive in about ten minutes. Let's go pick it up outside town now."

Sun Jian was taken aback: "Receiving the goods? Not here?"

Brother Qing laughed: "How can we just pick it up here?"

He patted Sun Jian on the shoulder and said, "You'll understand once you come with me."

The group got back into the car. The car turned around and drove out of the park gate again.