Survival of the Nation: My luck was a tiny bit worse.

But he couldn't control himself. Some things had been bottled up inside for too long, and once they started, he couldn't stop them.

And to be honest, he felt relieved after saying those words.

It felt like a stone that had been pressing down on us for a long time had been lifted.

Mike thought to himself, "I hope no one noticed my desire to be a passive winner!"

"Your country, America, must have received quite a few boxes from the other contestants, right?"

—Until the European Games suddenly changed the subject.

Mike paused for a moment, his expression unchanged, avoiding the main point and skillfully maintaining a wry smile, "I did get some, but compared to you guys, it's just a drop in the ocean."

"To be honest, most of what we received were daily necessities and weapons; the food and medicine you received were pitifully little!"

It's as if the forbidden area is implying to them that if they want to eat their fill, they have to fight for it themselves, instead of spending their days stealing and thieving.

Ugh!

"You guys must have worked really hard." Mr. Ou's tone gradually became perfunctory.

"...Are you trying to comfort me or sarcastic?"

"You decide for yourself," Mr. Ou said with a smile.

Then he stood up, dusted off his pants, and stuffed the empty bottle into his spatial ring.

"Thank you for your information. It has helped me learn a lot about the real world."

He was relieved to know that the people of the Dragon Kingdom were finally living a life free from worries about food and clothing.

Mike stood up as well, his leg wound throbbing slightly.

Are you going back?

"Time to go back to sleep!"

Ou Yun stretched.

"Consider this drink a farewell! You can leave tomorrow; your leg injury is almost healed, so it's perfect for your journey."

Mike vaguely sensed something was amiss and instinctively asked, "Go? Where to?"

Go find your teammates.

Mr. Ou's smile deepened. "Aren't your two teammates waiting for you?"

How did he know?

Mike's body suddenly stiffened.

Ou Yun patted him on the shoulder, his face still bearing the same smile that Mike had been watching for two whole days.

"By the way, you just said that your America holds emergency meetings every day in the real world—so in the Forbidden Zone, are you also constantly plotting how to deal with us?"

Mike's pupils suddenly contracted.

He wanted to speak, but his throat felt like it was blocked by something.

Ou Yun did not wait for his reply.

He turned and walked down from the watchtower toward his house.

After taking a few steps, he stopped and looked back at Mike.

"Did that athlete from the small country really die from an infected wound?"

silence.

A deathly silence.

Ou Yun smiled and continued walking back.

Goodnight, Mike. I won't see you off when you leave tomorrow; you can sleep in!

His figure gradually disappeared from sight.

Mike stood on the watchtower, his body stiff.

As the night wind blew by, he felt all the hairs on the back of his body stand on end.

He knew all along?

He knows everything.

He knew those questions from the beginning—about the player from that small country, about his teammates, about their plans.

What about the hospitality we received these past two days?

What do those medicines, those foods, those idle chatter count for?

Mike turned abruptly and rushed toward the stone house.

He grabbed the communicator hidden under his pillow and pressed the communication button with trembling fingers.

"Sarah! James! Can you hear me!?"

The tactical watch emitted a faint buzzing sound, and a prompt awaiting a response appeared on the screen.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

No response.

"Sarah! James! Answer me!!"

Mike's voice echoed in the stone house, but there was only cold silence on the communicator.

He switched to an encrypted channel, a backup frequency band, and even used an emergency call protocol.

no respond.

There was no response.

Mike gripped his tactical watch, his knuckles turning white.

A terrible thought suddenly flashed through his mind—

Not tonight, but earlier.

As early as last night, while he was still being bombarded by that group of magical creatures.

His teammates may have lost contact with him.

But he was completely unaware.

Because he was so nervous, because he was trying to adapt to this absurd camp, because he was desperately trying to remember those spine-chilling details—he forgot to check the communication records on his communicator.

He forgot to check if his teammates were still there.

And now, he knows.

Mike slowly, very slowly, sat down.

He stared at the constantly flashing wait symbol on his tactical watch and suddenly felt that the symbol looked like an eye.

An eye that is mocking him.

Outside the window, the silvery moonlight fell silently, and in the distance, the waterwheel of the mill turned slowly—always turning so slowly.

Everything looked so peaceful and serene.

But he knew that somewhere he didn't know, something had already happened.

In forbidden territory, bad premonitions are never unfounded.

Mike closed his eyes.

*

Meanwhile, by the campfire.

Green Bean stood on the stone slab, soaking wet, opened its mouth, and sneezed—

"Aren't you afraid of getting dirty with your mouth?"

Leng Ruolan stood beside it, holding a damp cloth in her hand, bending down to wipe Green Bean's body, and also wiping the fur around its mouth.

The mung bean tilted its head back and obediently let her wipe it, its tail tip swishing back and forth.

As she was wiping, Leng Ruolan suddenly burst out laughing.

Green Bean tilted its head and looked at her, its face blank.

Do you know what you look like right now?

Leng Ruolan pinched Green Bean's cheek and chuckled, "Looks like you've stolen a red dragon fruit. Your mouth is covered in red, and you can't wipe it off."

Green Bean looked down at the color on the damp cloth and snorted.

It seemed dissatisfied with the metaphor, shook off the water droplets on its body, and splashed water all over Leng Ruolan's face.

"Okay, okay, I won't say anymore."

Leng Ruolan wiped her face, smiled, and ruffled its hair. "You've worked hard tonight. Go find Nanbei to collect your reward and ask him to give you an extra half piece of meat tonight."

Green Bean meowed, spun around in place, rubbed against Leng Ruolan, and then ran off happily.

The campfire crackled, and sparks were swept into the air by the night wind, merging into the starry sky.

Leng Ruolan stood up and casually tossed the damp cloth, stained dark red, into the campfire.

She watched the cloth curl up in the flames, charred, and turn to ashes, then turned and walked toward the house.

Inside the room, Ou Yun was sitting at the table, his wine bottle empty.

Seeing Leng Ruolan approach, he shoved the empty wine bottle into his spatial ring and yawned.

"Why are you back so soon?"

"Two lowlifes. I killed one, and the other was bitten to death by a mung bean."

Leng Ruolan sat down next to him, speaking casually, "The mung bean was really holding back; it bit my neck and wouldn't let go. It had to be washed twice in the river to get it clean."

Ou Yun said with an "Oh," "This kid, he usually seems so carefree, I never expected him to be such a master at murder and robbery!"

Leng Ruolan said, "That's right. Cats are usually so well-behaved, but once they're ready to kill, no one can stop them."