Lv Bai did not answer, casually smoothing out a corner of the bedding.
Seeing this, Fatty Gao curled his lip and said, "Are you pretending to be dumb with me?"
Lv Bai shook his head, "I just think this place is not bad."
"As a temporary shelter, to this extent it can satisfy most people."
Fatty Gao turned his head to signal his subordinate to pull up the tent flaps.
Lv Bai seemed to not notice this, flexing his fingers, "Since that's the case, isn't it better to stay put?"
Hearing this, Fatty Gao was both amused and angered.
"If I don't... hey, damn!"
Just halfway through his provocative words, he saw Lv Bai pull out a Mauser pistol from his coat.
Lv Bai pressed the muzzle against Fatty Gao's forehead, his thumb flipping open the safety of the Mauser pistol, "Wanna guess if there's a bullet in my gun?"
Fatty Gao froze on the spot, cold sweat dripping down.
He gulped hard, forcing a smile, "Brother, don't be nervous, I'm just joking with you... don't let your hand shake."
Lv Bai kept a cheerful gaze on him.
After all, with the gun against his forehead, Fatty Gao quickly backed down, "Cough, if you don't like it, then we won't mess with you."
Saying so, he carefully retreated to his own bedding.
Lv Bai couldn't be bothered to pursue, slipping the Mauser pistol back into his pocket.
It's worth mentioning that although the inspection at the front gate was merely to check for bite marks on the body,
Lv Bai prudently chose only to bring in a Mauser pistol; the Eight-sided Han Sword was buried beside the highway.
Now that the trouble was resolved using the Mauser pistol, he couldn't help but appreciate his foresight.
To put it simply, Fatty Gao is just an ordinary thug, no matter how strong his build, he's nothing special in front of Lv Bai.
But if fighting breaks out, causing too much commotion is, instead, troublesome.
Regardless of how eye-catching it would be carrying a sword at all times, in terms of intimidation to ordinary people, firearms obviously hold much more power than a cold weapon.
Lv Bai smiled void of meaning, then leaned back into his bed.
He lay there, hands behind his head, squinting his eyes as if he fell asleep.
At this moment, no one inside the tent would confirm he was asleep.
Fatty Gao and the others huddled together, even their voices instinctively lowered, naturally lacking the heart to bully Cui Qing anymore.
Of course, Lv Bai was indeed not sleeping; he was checking the system panel.
Sure enough, the system's release of Death Fighter's positioning information hadn't updated.
He noticed that since the third publication, the interval between updates had been gradually lengthening.
Initially published once every two hours, gradually becoming every four hours, eight hours, sixteen hours.
By now, it's been over ten hours since the last positioning update, yet the system remains silent.
Precisely because of this, his efficiency in "hunting" Death Fighters these past few days was embarrassingly low.
Does the interval gradually double?
Lv Bai thought for a while, then exited the system panel.
Ultimately, his rank still stands at first place, he's not in much of a rush.
Considering others by his standard, he estimates the efficiency of other Death Fighters wouldn't be high either.
In a shelter with no entertainment facilities, in this environment, it feels like even time slows down somewhat.
…
"...The more one gives to others, the more one receives. The way of heaven is to benefit and not harm. The way of the saint is to act and not compete."
After Lv Bai muttered over thirty times, the sky finally darkened.
During this period, Fatty Gao and the others, showing great perceptiveness, helped him with a meal as well; besides praising their thoughtfulness, Lv Bai had nothing more to say.
As for Cui Qing, he curled up on the bed all afternoon, neither attempting to ingratiate himself with Lv Bai nor trying to smooth things over with Fatty Gao and the others.
Lv Bai appreciated the peace and did not resist this status quo.
"Notice: Passage will be prohibited in ten minutes..."
Outside the tent, the broadcast sounded again, the crowd gathered outside for idle chatter quickly dispersed.
Not much different from the midday procedure, the medical personnel in protective suits came and left.
The difference was that this time, the prohibited passage would last until eight the next morning.
Whiling away time in the tent with nothing to do, after some chat, Fatty Gao and the others fell asleep one after another.
As time flowed, the shelter area quieted down, leaving only the low-volume broadcast outside still looping.
Lv Bai originally planned to strike in the dark, but alas, plans couldn't keep up with changes.
Since the system hadn't released the positioning information for Death Fighters, even if he wanted to act, he didn't know where to find the target.
Thus laying on the bed, under the stifling scent of antiseptic, he drifted off to sleep.
Not knowing how long he slept.
Suddenly,
Lv Bai snapped his eyes open, his gaze full of vigilance.
He smelled a strong scent of blood that even the antiseptic couldn't cover.
Resisting the impulse to get up immediately, he discreetly scanned the interior of the tent.
It seemed the others in the tent were in deep sleep, Fatty Gao was even snoring rhythmically.
Where did the blood scent come from? The next tent over?
Lv Bai hesitated for a moment, restraining the urge to check it out.
No matter what, Death Fighters are still flesh and blood, unable to confront an organized army head-on.
Entering this temporary refuge meant the game had changed; the premise of "hunting" Death Fighters was not exposing oneself.
Given that the culprit may not stay in the neighboring tent, to avoid being at the crime scene falsely accused, Lv Bai simply did nothing; everyone would know come daylight.
With this thought in mind, Lv Bai lay quietly, not sleeping again.
He didn't have to wait too long.
Before dawn, the situation in the neighboring tent was discovered by a patrolling soldier; soon, the sound of footsteps filled the space outside the tents.
Lv Bai closed his eyes, relying on his extraordinary hearing, quietly listening to the commotion outside.
"Damn!"
"Hiss~"
Someone gasped.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"It surely can't be someone deliberately spilling uncongealed pork blood on the bedding."
Someone still had the mood to joke.
"Why wouldn't it solidify?"
"Stop being a comic sidekick and quickly find out what's up." A cold voice abruptly interrupted the conversation.
…
Drip-drop~ Drip-drop~
Sounded like some liquid was being wrung out of fabric.
"Captain, no fingerprints, footprints, or any traces left inside the tent; although not precisely measured yet, I estimate all the places combined in the tent are about several dozen pounds of blood, feels like enough to bathe in." Someone reported while clicking their tongue.
"Enough chatter!"
That voice still sounded as cool and collected as ever: "So, all six people's blood is here?"