Witch Jane's situation at this time is similar to a stray cat dragging a plastic bag.
In the redundant hills of the branches, he was struggling with parachute canvas.
The sun gradually dimmed. The distant landscape condenses into a silent shadow and the earth smells richer than just now.
Over the past half hour, Witch Jane has taken every possible way to save herself.
First of all, he fell and tried to touch the emergency rescue mechanism for porcelain.
Then dig hard in the open areas and try to write SOS for help.
Half an hour later, however, he not only lost all confidence from the law enforcement machinery, but also lost a precious engineer shovel in the excavation.
From a thriving main dance to an exhausting groundhog.
“Finally, player 300012 is asked to enter the battle in five minutes. ”
Witch Jane put down the waterproof canvas and turned back to grievously argue: “The No. 300012 player is already working hard! ”
The next second, he glared at him with dismay.
At the end of the journey, you can hear the flow of water in the riverbed - as well as the sound of bullets firing.
“ ”Witch Jane didn't hesitate to throw the parachute away, and she turned her back and ran.
There was an exchange of fire in the distance, and the sound of three or two footsteps quickly approached the witch Jane.
Witch Jane's heart is beating to its limit.
According to the right-hand watch tip, the selection mechanism for the Clawson reality show is fairly straightforward ——
Athletes begin with only basic survival tools, and all survival and combat resources are scattered throughout the map.
Survive until the last 10 players are promoted.
This reminds me of an 80 yuan/hour real life CS that Witch Jane used to buy in a group.
The difference is that this nautical map goes far beyond his cognitive range.
Judging by the gunfire behind him, the crossfire on the riverbank was unusually intense.
This is the exact opposite of what Witch Jane predicted half an hour ago.
The whole map is very large. With the survival of the rest of us and the killing of the unrewarded game mechanism, the strategy of dwelling in the jungle is far superior to positive conflict, and there can never be a large-scale exchange of fire.
Unless - resource returns are substantial enough to put the lives of all athletes at risk.
How is that possible?
As he pondered, a bullet burst out of his back and hit a pile of fallen leaves two metres from Witchcraft.
Witch Jane's brain was instantly blank, and she was still working on the game rules model, leaving nothing but bloody scenes.
A little witch Jane.
Soft, on the ground.
There was a hole in his head and he snuck out and bled like a little blue whale spraying water.
Witch Jane: “Ahhhhhh...”
The light in the jungle is dim, and the lush trees are hard to discern in the sky of the night, and all the scenery is shadowed by a speedy escape.
On the bank of the river, someone whispered, “South 4, surrounded. ”
The barrel turned and the two shadows quickly swept to the left. The hard-bottomed hiking shoes landed silently on the ground, and the only moment the gun was pulled, the bullet was pushed into the chamber to make a slight noise.
Witch Jane's earbones vibrated slightly, her subconscious direction suddenly changed, and one side rolled over to hide behind the tree, displaying a remarkable group of breaking dance achievements.
Meanwhile, the left rear trigger buckles and the bullet hits exactly where he was.
In the temporarily formed hunting group, the commander stunned: “What was that action?! ”
The sniper went blind for a moment: "I've never seen… I've never seen this tactical evasion. ”
Between the gods, the witch Jane has panicked and vanished into the depths of the forest.
A moment later, finally confirmed the safety of the witch Jane pounding on the ground, two eyes red pounding angry and grieving.
He's going home! He's calling the police!
When he goes out, tomorrow the headline of the newspaper is "Brave Trainees Destroy Illegal Gun Shelters, Breaking the Regulations The Program Team Will Be Severely Punished by the Law"!
Yet before Jane walked out of the jungle, she was accompanied by hunger, cold and water shortages.
The canvas of the parachute had been discarded in the previous unilateral exchange of fire, leaving only one compressed cookie in the initial package, packaged in plastic bags, ropes and unknown metal blocks.
Water sources near the riverbank are always guarded. Looking down from the mountains, the light of the bonfire in the far reaches reflects the river, and there is a bending moon in the sparkling waves.
A week ago, witch Jane would have moved a bench and taken out a guitar to write songs about beautiful nature.
Now there is nothing but hunger and cold.
Jane sat on the pier of the tree and took another look at the bonfire in the distance, her envious stomach grunting.
Who knows the next second, the fire burst.
At the foot of the mountain, the two men guarding the river quickly entered the forest to check and scream.
Immediately afterwards, two silver white spheres rolled out of the forest and plunged into the river.
Witch Jane looked at a fool and couldn't help but eat the only compressed cookie.
Yet nothing alleviated his hunger.
Jomo was starving and the cookies seemed delicious. All that remains of the dim forest is the slightly crisp sound of plastic paper, and —— strange footsteps of hiking boots stepping on broken leaves.
Witch Jane's spine was suddenly stiff.
The footsteps are very light and every step is exactly the same interval.
The people came up from the mouth of the river.
The coniferous forests are littered with sand and broken leaves, and Witch Jane even wonders why there is such a mild footstep, almost like a water ghost crawling out of a river. He remembered the shooting at the foot of the mountain - he never saw a third man by the campfire.
Witch Jane was almost united with the tree pier, pitiful Sir shrunk in the mountain peak and stared dead ahead.
Even so, he could only hear each other's footsteps and could not hear each other's breathing.
All he knows is he's facing his way.
A scratch, like the gun safety was turned on.
Witch Jane's pupils shrunk.
The sound comes from behind, the metal mechanical elements touch slightly, and it seems to be less than ten centimetres from the side of one's ear--
The next moment you look at the trigger you have to pull it off.
Witch Jane looked pale: “Help! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
The burning barrel was wiped against the teenager's little curly hair.
The muzzle still stood, and the witch in the moonlight revealed half a white side face, her eyes closed, soft like rabbit sperm growing on a tree pier.
Half a hand squeezes a compression cookie, and the material underfoot is the most barren in the field.
The man snapped: “Where's the rabbit sperm? ”
His voice was low and his tone was a little dull.
Witch Jane shook her head desperately.
Then shivering Weiwei turned around.
That's a tall man, about 26 or 7 years old. The face is deep and bright, very eye-resistant, and when you bow your head, the sharp color in your eyebrows is like a mountain eagle.
Unlike the players seen in the cabin, he has no hyperbolic muscles with prominent knots. However, once he approached me, it was like being aligned with a sharp bayonet.
There's no temperature in a man's eyes.
Witch Jane just swept a glance and quickly lowered her head. At this moment, he thought of the water ghost again. Water ghosts don't look like this, but —— that's not what normal people see.
The man was holding the gun with his left hand, and the line of arms revealed in his rolled cuffs was sturdy. He held it so vainly against the witch's head, as if he pinched the rabbit's ear: “So weak, what are you doing here? ”
Witch Jane sincerely said: "Wrong way. ”
“Wrong way? ”
“I was going to the XX Idol Show...”
A man shows a smile and not a smile.
It wasn't until this moment that he had a bit of a normal human aura.
Witch Jane always felt like she'd seen this face somewhere. He always has a good memory, whether it's silver screens or posters, and once he writes it down, he always gets to the top. It's the only time I can't scratch it.
The man asks, "Is it a cooking party? ”
Witch Jane: "Ah? ”
The next second, Witch Jane reacted and nodded quickly.
A slightly hot barrel. This is the only way to remove it from the little soft hair.
Witch Jane's bags were forcibly handed over without hesitation.
The man touched the silver black metal from the inside, then ripped the compartment of the backpack and pulled a little fleece, twisting it and laying it on a pile of dead leaves. One meter and eight up the head, leaning down with a hidden deterrent.
Then suddenly he had an extra dagger in his hand.
Witch Jane: “!!! ”
Man: "Stand on the left. ”
Witch Jane stood to her left and shrunk.
The man also ordered: "Stand aside, keep out of the wind. ”
Witch Jane tried to stretch herself out.
The next instant, the dagger on the left hand side of the man was paddling across the metal side at extreme speed, and at the handover, Mars electricity suddenly burst into the dull air. The fleece below is heat-burned and scattered light points spread onto the wood heap, gradually accumulating into a small cluster of □ □ flames.
Textbook ignition.
Witch Jane looked at a fool, and after a man threw the metal blocks away at her hand, it took a long time for Chen to say: “Brother, I... do you want to stand here all the time to stop the wind? ”
The man didn't expect him to ask, and looked at Witch Jane more. It's like looking at a useless little animal: “Whatever. ”
Witch Jane saw that he did not refute the “big brother" and finally had a sense of security covered by the big man. He quickly picked up the discarded metal blocks and instantly saluted them by pointing them to the middle school chemistry knowledge in his head.
So this is the precious MG magnesium, magnesium strip!
When he saw the old man looking here, he blinked quickly, tapping, tapping, tapping, opening the watch loyalty: “Brother, there's still so much left to do, in case it's still useful tomorrow night...”
The man stashed the dagger away and the blade swayed in his hand shocked the witch's guts: "The race will be over tomorrow morning. ”
Witch Jane said, “Ah? Why...”
'Cause I got some business this afternoon. ”
Sorceress saluted. I couldn't help but lean against the fire heap to block the wind and let the bustling bonfire shine against the big man.
In the fire, the man had replaced a long rod □ □.
Witch Jane remembered the value of being left behind and whispered: "Brother, what are we eating at night! ”
The man lifted his gun and aimed at a rabbit behind the bush, mindless: “Your kind. ”