Novel Full Chapter 2415 - 2255: Winning Streak
Chapter 2415: Chapter 2255: Winning Streak
“It’s over!”
“This thing’s gonna blow!”
“Got to hide.”
“…”
Instantly.
Countless thoughts flashed through everyone’s minds, and ultimately, most made the same decision—hit the deck, one of the best ways to avoid mines.
“Thud!”
“Snap!”
“…”
Everyone dived into the surrounding grass, crushing quite a few plants.
At that moment.
The man was collapsing.
He wanted to cry!
Even though he heard the tick-tock, he didn’t dare lift his foot. It was odd for a mine to tick. What kind of dramatic mine was this?
Typically.
Mines don’t talk much.
“Tick-tock!”
“Tick-tock!”
“…”
The ticking continued, like a death clock countdown in the night.
It’s over!
The man’s heart sank to rock bottom.
It seemed.
This leg wouldn’t be saved; he began to curse in his heart. Myanmar was too bleak. Why plant these without any conflict?
Unsafe, seriously!
Xie Te.
Fuck.
And the scouts.
Damn it.
…
He cursed everything he could, snapped back to reality, and found the ticking still lingering, seemingly stable, perhaps about to explode next second.
Walking along the riverside, finally losing his shoes.
Sigh!
Could this.
Be retribution?
Thinking.
Thinking.
Time passed.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.
“…”
Snapping back, the man felt he’d added too much drama, wondering why the curtain hadn’t yet fallen. Hearing the ticking, he awaited judgment.
Six minutes.
Seven minutes.
Finally.
Ten minutes.
Everyone was puzzled, why hasn’t it exploded? Glancing at one another, they were clueless until someone finally spoke up.
“Dud?”
“Maybe.”
“Probably broken.”
“What now?”
“Keep disarming.” Hearing the debate among the team, the man was furious. Hearing the bold suggestion, the team braced themselves, preparing to replace mines with stones.
Truth.
In the dark.
Beside the mine.
Listening to the tick-tock countdown, unsure of what would happen next, the psychological pressure was overwhelming.
“Whew!”
Finally.
A few pressed down their shoes, weighed down stones, and swapped out the man.
“Safe now.”
The man showed a surviving expression, albeit frustrated, missing a shoe but indifferent, as a wrapped cloth worked just fine.
Straighten up.
“Continue onward.”
“Got it.”
This time.
No way the man would take the lead, swapping with another crew member, proceeding cautiously through the dark jungle.
Everyone harbored psychological shadows.
Calm.
Calm.
Should be just an accident.
As they say.
Surviving disasters, luck follows, should think positively. Encountering difficulty might hint at an easy task ahead.
Indeed.
Just this…
“Snap!”
“Hiss~”
The leading person quivered and said, “I stepped on one too.” Suddenly, cold sweat broke on everyone’s backs; curses echoed in their hearts once more.
Myanmar was too bleak; mines were free or what?
“Disarm!”
Gnashing teeth.
The man ordered.
Then.
Once again, they scattered, looking for stones, yet hardly moved any distance.
“Snap!”
“Ah!”
“I stepped on one.”
“Me too.”
“…”
At least six people felt they’d hit the jackpot; the rest paused, dumbfounded. Could their chosen direction be a dense minefield?
Holy grass.
What kind of luck was this?
“Don’t panic.”
“Stay calm.”
“At this time, don’t be rash.”
As the leader, the man soothed emotions, swearing once safe back, he’d demonstrate true stimulus to the scouts.
“Careful, backtrack to the riverside for stones, avoid unknown jungle.”
After panic.
Suppressing heartbeats, the team’s professionalism emerged. Backtracking, they picked up stones, while ticking seemed manageable now.
Less frightened.
Soon.
Six men missing shoes but thankful for saved legs.
“Continue.”
Gritting, the man ordered again, though this time speaking felt unsettling. Within three hundred meters, seven mines hit.
Ahead.
Still a long way to go!
Words fade.
The crew pressed forward again.
One minute later.
“Snap!”
“…”
Jackpot +1.
Three minutes later.
Jackpot +1.
…
Half an hour later.
Jackpot +33.
At this point.
Hearts were on the verge of collapse. Traversing without crossing many mountains, they hit forty-something jackpots, though none perished.
Yet it was intensely stimulating.
“You think, are those mines real?” Someone suddenly questioned, “Myanmar and Thailand have no friction.”
“Why plant so many mines.”
This.
Prompted many into contemplation.
Reasonable.
Typically, mines hint at friction, but Myanmar and Thailand have harmonized, collaborating closely, whether to prevent entering.
Or preventing exit.
No need.
Could it be.
Real fake mines?
But.
Despite suspicions, they dared not risk testing, fearing once stirred, attracting border patrol, then trouble arises.
Yet.
Feeling miffed, if fake, their anxiety could be for naught. However, the one voicing possibility spoke again.
“Could they be alarms?”
Words fall.
Instantly.
Companions stoned collectively.
Indeed!
If fake, surely wired with alarms. Generally, mines don’t tick-tock, realizing this, hearts tingled.
Damn!
How didn’t realize earlier.
If true.
They journeyed blatantly under surveillance, exposed entirely. In the night, the insects’ chirps and wind rustling through leaves.
Suddenly turned terrifying.
“This… can’t be right?” they chuckled nervously.
Aside.
No replies from companions.
Can’t be?
But if true?
What then?
Such outcome was hard to accept. Amid hesitation, the communication device rang, Dorne from Xin’an City was calling.
“Everything smooth?”
“Er.”
“Smoothly entered, yet saying it’s not smooth, the previous scouts—you sure they’re reliable? We’ve stepped on mines all the way.”
The man fumed.
Upon hearing.
The other side paused.
“Mines?”
“What are you saying?”
Immediately.
He explained the journey’s woes, leaving Dorne baffled over the line—what kind of scenario was this? Nearly forty mines stepped?
Filming a movie?
Yet.
Trust in capable counterparts, despite confusion, previous scouting was okay, no issues arose.
This time.
Disorders abounded, hinting unsettling possibilities.
Could it be.
Newly laid not targeting them… As thoughts lingered, Dorne twitched at the thought, the idea didn’t hold; Myanmar and Thailand allied.
No friction.
Equally unnecessary to tackle typical smugglers, thusily only one possibility—that was… targeting smugglers. Think deeper.
— Targeting him.