The traffic lights showed no anger or fear.

The forest dwellers felt no anger, hatred, or resentment;

They are indifferent and uncaring; only one side will be able to leave this place alive.

"Kill!" The forest dweller charged forward.

Just then, the sun rose above the horizon on the thirteenth day.

Dewdrops splashed, and the traffic light wondered how many of the enemy it could kill... two? One? Perhaps not even one.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Four gunshots rang out, and the Forestman was blown to pieces. 'Aman', wearing a black sports vest and matching skirt, with a dark red scarf wrapped around his neck, stood on a tree branch, holding dual pistols with only a small section of energy remaining.

'Street Dance Girl', 'Fiery Phoenix', and 'Childhood Village' stand on other branches.

They were covered in blood, their clothes were tattered, and their tired eyes stared at the traffic light in front of them.

“Where are the others?” Aman asked the traffic light, his voice hoarse.

"......"

Aman looked behind the traffic light; the signboard was lying on his back, his right hand severed at the forearm, and a serpentine creature was swimming on his skin.

"What's wrong with him?" Aman asked.

"Semaphore?"

"traffic light?!"

The traffic light fell straight to the ground; the left hand that held the doorplate tightly gripped Chun, while blood stained the weapon on the right hand.

The signal light opened its eyes and found itself lying in the medical ward of a marching tent. This was equipment from the Special Operations Bureau, which, when deployed, was equivalent to a small base.

I heard a crunching sound, like an apple being bitten.

"woke up?"

He looked over and saw the doorplate biting a perfectly round, cylindrical fruit—it looked just like a thermos—lying on another hospital bed, its severed right arm wrapped in medical bandages.

Noticing his gaze, the man raised his right arm and said, "Once we get back, we can have someone help it grow back."

The traffic light head was still a little dizzy and didn't say anything.

"Thanks," the sign said again.

"...How is the situation? How many days has it been?" The traffic light seemed to regain some consciousness.

"It was noon on the thirteenth day, just past lunchtime." The man bit into a piece of fruit, picked up another one from the plate with his left hand, and tossed it to him.

The Indestructible Chieftain

The traffic light caught the fruit, about the size of a fist, covered in toad-like bumps that looked disgusting, but it smelled delicious.

The man took the fruit out of his mouth and took another bite.

"Everyone has regrouped, and there are 28 left. The only group without any casualties is Li Changzhou's group. Even the dwarf marmosets that weren't counted before survived."

79, no, including the dwarf marmoset, there were a total of eighty players, now only 28 remain, a devastating thirteen days.

"Where's the crown? Any news?" the traffic light asked again.

“A piece of news that can hardly be called news.” Doorplate tossed away the fruit pit, picking at the pulp between his teeth with his left hand. “The ‘scouts’ have found the Central King’s daughter, but they’re unsure if she has the crown.”

The signal light stood up and was about to step out of the tent.

I advise you not to go out.

The signal light was already touching the curtain with one hand. The tent was very soundproof; even standing right next to the curtain, you couldn't hear anything outside.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

With his left hand behind his head, looking like he'd had a good meal and was ready for bed, the man asked, "Who do you think is suitable to wear the crown?"

Does it matter?

"More important than your life, my life, and everyone else's life."

"Internal strife?"

"Pah!" The man spat out the piece of meat stuck between his teeth.

"...What was the point of my near-death experience yesterday?"

"At least the two of us survived."

The traffic light sat back on the hospital bed, its eyes blank. It took a bite of the fruit in its hand, and white sap actually oozed out of the fruit like a toad.