The wall was just smashed through, leaving a hole.
Before the people outside could even rejoice, they felt several stone-like objects being thrown out of the hole and sinking into the soft snow.
Those outside were stunned. When they looked down and stared, their expressions hadn't even changed before the fear in their eyes shattered.
"Damn it! Where are your defensive abilities? Where did they all go?" One of the more influential people couldn't help but roar, "If I don't see any of you, don't even think about getting any new supplies for the next month. You and your families will all starve to death!"
"Snatch the machine guns! If they have guns, they must have even more supplies. Let's rob them, and we'll never have to worry about food or clothing again!!"
"Killing these people might save our lives, but we've lost so many men and so much supplies today. If we go back empty-handed, we'll be punished so severely that none of us will survive!"
The commands rang out on everyone's walkie-talkies, stimulating their minds. They were already starving and freezing, their eyes bloodshot with hunger.
Lin Junyan is not a kind leader, or rather, given the unclear situation, none of the leaders of these shelters would prioritize feeding their subordinates.
They had limited supplies, not enough to guarantee their own survival for two or three hundred years. As long as their subordinates didn't starve or freeze to death, they would consider it a success.
It's been less than a year since the apocalypse began, and it feels like a dream to everyone. One second they're living a comfortable life at home, and the next they're starving and freezing, struggling to survive.
The suicide rate among exiles has reached over 40%, and almost everyone lives in fear.
Before the ice and snow, they could hunt, get some game, catch a couple of sparrows, or catch some fish from the river for a treat. Now that the ice and snow have covered the land, they can only cling to the shelters built by these reborn hoarders like dodder vines.
The healers and teammates without offensive capabilities all guarded the security booth, armed with guns, ready to act as needed, while the others worked in groups of two or three to coordinate with each other.
While the national team members may not all have exceptional teamwork, they are all rigorously trained and their coordination is impenetrable when they fight.
Although the people who surrounded them were crazy and fierce, their fighting was chaotic and full of loopholes. Sometimes, they didn't even need to lift a finger; their own people would trip each other up. Before the crowd even made a move, several stampedes had already occurred.
There were just too many people on the outskirts, and even professional cattle slaughterers couldn't slaughter more than a few hundred cattle a day, so their physical strength was rapidly declining.
Lin Beiyue didn't care how many tens of thousands of words of self-criticism she would have to write when she got back, and threw all sorts of tear gas and poison gas canisters on the ground.
They really couldn't tell the difference between these people and the zombie apocalypse; perhaps they were just different.
Suddenly, different shouts came from behind. The people from Shelter No. 8 were charging forward when another group suddenly attacked from behind.
The group behind them were also quite strong. Although they fought without any strategy, their faces were full of ferocity as they fought desperately.
"You are... from Song Yunshan's battle group!?" The leader of Shelter No. 8's expression immediately changed: "Are you going to be our enemy?"
"Bah! You damned enemies! That bastard Lin Junyan's corpse is already cold, and you're still surrounding him!" Song Yunshan charged at the front, his iron rod crackling with bluish-purple lightning: "Kneeling down now is more practical than anything else!"
The body is already cold, what does that mean?
Their leader is dead?
The people in Shelter No. 8 were originally part of the Junlin Battle Group, which was formed around Lin Junyan. Now someone is saying that their leader is dead!
Although the news sounds absurd, the fact that Song Yunshan swaggered in here suggests that there is some truth to it.
In addition, these people were already in a state of panic from being strafed by the two Gatling guns, and they were also frightened by landmines and grenades from time to time. Now, being attacked from both sides, they lost all their fighting spirit.
A cacophony of screams and cries erupted as the group fled much faster than they had charged forward. In no time, they scattered like birds and beasts, tumbling and crawling, crying out for their parents, and running for their lives in a panic.
The world fell silent again. Large patches of bright red blood remained on the snow, seeping into the ground. Severed limbs and remains, along with broken smoke, were scattered all over the ground, and broken internal organs could be seen.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, and even the heavy snow could not bury the horrific traces in a short time.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh".
"They left?"
Lin Beiyue felt her hands go numb and she couldn't quite let go of the machete. She staggered and was caught by her teammates.
"There are only two or three hundred people left to begin with. If you hold out a little longer, you'll all be wiped out." Guan Nianshan's voice finally rang out from the guard post. He looked at the snow on the ground with a hint of disgust and walked over, picking up the clean snow.
"Why are there so many people?" Lin Beiyue felt a wave of dizziness. "Isn't it said that only a minority of people awaken superpowers?"
Perhaps only those who have awakened superpowers or whose families are extremely wealthy enough to hoard goods would disobey the government's orders and want to be exiled without following the rules.
They just killed at least a thousand people. Why are there so many?
“The population base is large, so you won’t encounter this situation in Milica.” Guan Nianshan shrugged: “Otherwise, why do you think their movies can save the world by forming a team of a few people? In their eyes, the world is only this small.”
“This brother is right.” A man walked over; he was one of Song Yunshan’s men. “To use students as an analogy, if a class has 60 students, then a thousand or two would only be three or four grades. We’ve only mobilized a few classes to help you. Does that make it seem like we’re not enough?”
The teammates behind them were checking each other's injuries.
Fortunately, this is where the professionalism of the team really shines.
The protective suits they wore greatly reduced the damage to them; a slash would at most cause a fracture, and ordinary sharp blades couldn't even cut through the protective suits.
However, some people still suffered serious injuries. Two people broke several ribs, one person broke his arm, and another person, whose injuries had not yet healed, has now fallen into a coma.
"Thank you for your help." Lin Beiyue breathed a sigh of relief. "We're planning to rest at Shelter No. 8. Would you like to come along?"
“Sanctuary No. 8? Oh, that’s your term. You mean the King’s Landing Chapter, right?” The underling paused for a moment before realizing what he meant. “Um, I don’t know what the boss means. Let me ask.”
As he spoke, the henchman waved to the people scavenging supplies not far behind him.
"Boss, this young lady is asking if you want to join the King's Landing Legion!"
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