Chu Yi followed the signal left by the Talisman Paper and quickly found Fu Chengmao and the others. They had taken cover on a low slope, with large patches of blood-green-colored Man-Eating Flowers growing in the wetland below.
The shortest of those Man-Eating Flowers stood over two meters tall, while the taller ones reached four or five meters. Each plant bore one or two flowerheads at the top, densely embedded with jagged teeth, and the centers oozed yellowish-brown mucus, which looked utterly disgusting.
“You didn’t act rashly, did you?” Chu Yi asked.
“No.” Fu Chengmao gave a wry smile. “Fortunately, you gave us a Talisman Paper. When I sensed something was off, I ignited it on the spot.”
It turned out that as they approached, they spotted a closed flowerhead at the edge of the cluster, bulging unnaturally with a man’s large feet protruding from the seam.
“It’s Da Liu!” The cameraman recognized his colleague at once. Da Liu was the other cameraman who had come to film that night—it seemed he hadn’t escaped the Man-Eating Flower’s trap either.
Da Liu’s feet twitched now and then, but his struggles were feeble; he was clearly on his last breath.
The cameraman charged forward to save him, and his four teammates followed suit. The five of them seemed to have forgotten Chu Yi’s warnings, ignoring the various bones mixed into the rotten mud beneath the flower stems.
Only after Fu Chengmao ignited the Talisman Paper did they snap out of that sweet, alluring scent. The cameraman had run the fastest and nearly got bitten by a Man-Eating Flower that ambushed him from the side. He woke up just in time, though his arm was still torn away in a large chunk.
Fu Chengmao’s team had wanted to open fire with their guns, but he stopped them in time.
Fu Chengmao licked his cracked lips. “You told us not to act, so there must be a reason, right?”
Truth be told, watching a man get wrapped up and devoured by a Man-Eating Flower had tempted him to grab his gun and charge several times.
If Chu Yi had arrived even a moment later, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back.
Chu Yi glanced at the field uniform on him. He had seen them during the team’s earlier wash-up—the soldiers all wore body armor beneath their uniforms, which explained why Fu Chengmao thought they had nothing to fear from the Man-Eating Flowers.
Chu Yi said, “Captain Fu, your team has a sniper, right? Let’s pull back a bit further. Have the sniper take a shot and see what happens.”
Fu Chengmao agreed immediately and ordered the sniper to prepare.
But Chu Yi felt the retreat distance he commanded was too close and insisted they fall back another thirty meters. The Film Crew members were positioned even farther away, over a hundred meters back.
Fu Chengmao grew inexplicably tense and personally went to the sniper’s side to act as spotter. After about thirty seconds, as the wind in the swamp died down, he tapped the sniper’s shoulder. “Fire.”
There was a soft phut, and the bullet struck the stem of the Man-Eating Flower encasing Da Liu dead-on, punching a large hole through the thick stalk. Crimson sap gushed out at once.
The instant the sap spread, every leaf in the patch stood straight up, curling protectively around the flowerheads and revealing foot-long spikes on their undersides!
Fu Chengmao didn’t even see them launch; he just heard a rustling barrage through the air. The trees around their position were suddenly riddled with spikes.
Crack, crack… The trees—thick enough for two men to embrace—groaned under the strain and looked ready to snap in half.
Fu Chengmao yanked the sniper back. The moment they retreated, the spike-covered tree crashed down with a boom, leaving both men pale as ghosts.
They could imagine it: if they hadn’t heeded Chu Yi’s advice and acted from the slope, they’d probably be pincushions by now.
Those spikes were like steel needles, strong enough to fell trees—what chance did their body armor stand?
The three teammates who had scouted with Fu Chengmao were equally shaken. This was sniper range; even from that distance, the spikes packed such power. Up close, they’d be shredded into pulp!
No need for body bags then—they’d just become fertilizer for the Man-Eating Flowers.
Chu Yi, however, was quite satisfied with their “lure the enemy” maneuver. He said to Fu Chengmao, “Saving people comes first, Captain Fu. Set up a few more sniper points to clear those spikes faster.”
Fu Chengmao: “…”
His squad only had two snipers, primary and backup. The primary one’s back was still drenched in cold sweat—did Chu Yi really not worry about shaky hands?
Fine, as long as they didn’t hit the people inside the flowerheads, steady or not didn’t matter…
But reality showed them it was hard to hit the people inside anyway. The leaves were like the toughest rubber; bullets sank in like stones into the sea, without so much as a ripple.
The primary sniper spat lightly. “This shit’s tougher than our body armor, Captain. Why bother wearing vests? Rip off a few leaves to take back—one could make several suits.”
Fu Chengmao shot him a glare. “Cut the chatter. See if the spikes are clear yet? If so, relocate!”
But the Man-Eating Flowers weren’t just target practice. After several volleys, they started holding back.
“What now?” Fu Chengmao regretted not bringing military shields.
Chu Yi said, “I’ll go in and check. Keep firing to cover me.”
