Chapter 339: 340. Chapter 340: Rescuing the Hostages

340. Chapter 340: Rescuing the Hostages

At this moment, in the rainforest southeast of Brunei, there was a temporary camp built with a Hunter Cabin.

A group of natives wearing a Red Headscarf were resting beside a bonfire.

The leader of the Red Headscarf took a sip of soup and then said to his subordinates: "Send some things over to those Gweilo, don't let them starve to death."

The subordinate nodded and immediately picked up some food and walked toward the wooden house.

Another subordinate asked in a low voice: "Boss, do you think those Chinese will give in?"

The leader gave a cold snort: "Regardless of whether they give in or not, our goal has already been achieved. From now on, let's see which foreign tourists still dare to come to their Brunei to play."

The subordinate said greedily: "Those Chinese are truly rich. It would be great if we could fleece them hard. When we robbed those Chinese back then, it made all us brothers rich."

The leader said indifferently: "There will be opportunities. There are plenty of these damned Chinese who steal our jobs and businesses; let's find a chance to raid them again."

"Tsk, it would be great if we could get those Chinese in Brunei. I heard they are now rich as oil." Another subordinate sighed and said.

"Don't set your sights on the locals in Brunei; their guards are very formidable. The few brothers who went to scout for information last time never returned from Brunei," the leader said with a serious face: "We don't do things that are courting death."

Hearing the leader's stern warning, the others could only put away that thought.

The group chatted for a long time, but the subordinate who went to deliver food did not return, which made the leader feel something was wrong: "Where is the person who delivered the food?"

"Eh, did he go to the toilet?" the subordinate also said with a strange look.

At this time, the sentry responsible for the surrounding movements suddenly spoke up: "Boss, fog has risen all around."

The group looked up; it was just the time when the sky was slightly brightening, and white mist had already filled the surroundings of the rainforest.

Although thick fog in the rainforest is not rare, everyone discovered that today's mist was truly somewhat eerie.

It was like a mass of white cotton wool; even if a wind blew over, it could not blow the mist away.

"Could it be that the guy who delivered the food got lost?" The subordinate looked at the mist where one could barely see their own palm and made a reasonable deduction.

In such foggy weather, it is quite normal for someone to get lost.

However, for the natives who have lived on this land for generations, it actually doesn't count for much.

As long as one stays in place and doesn't move, it will be fine after a few dozen minutes.

Although the mist in the rainforest is very thick, it will also be quickly dispersed by the strong sunlight.

The leader heard the subordinates' discussion, but instead of relaxing his vigilance, he appeared even more nervous.

Seeing the appearance of the thick fog, a feeling of danger had been lingering in his heart.

Don't underestimate this kind of intuition; the leader was previously retired from the Malay Corps and was someone who had served in the military properly.

Although he had not experienced any major battles, the time he spent going out to execute missions was not short.

This kind of intuition was forged while fighting with others, and relying on this intuition had saved his life at least three times.

Now that this intuition appeared again, it made him feel waves of unease.

So he said loudly to his subordinates: "Pick up your weapons and retreat to the side of the wooden house to stand guard."

Hearing the leader's words, these natives each picked up the weapons beside them and quickly moved toward the wooden house.

But just at this moment, a shrill scream came, making everyone present feel a jolt in their hearts.

Accompanying the scream was also a harsh sound made when bones were smashed.

The leader was very familiar with this kind of sound; he often heard it when he used blunt objects to smash people's bones in the past.

But hearing this sound now in this white mist, a feeling of horror immediately arose.

"Who is there? Speak."

The leader's subordinate nervously pointed his gun directly over.

Unfortunately, the surrounding environment was terrifyingly quiet, and the scream from just a moment ago also disappeared very quickly.

Seeing this scene, the feeling of unease in the leader's heart became even more intense.

So he said loudly to his subordinates: "Everyone gather here at my position, with gun muzzles facing outward. If there is any movement, fire immediately."

Hearing the leader's words, the Red Headscarves, who were originally extremely panicked, seemed to have found their backbone and immediately moved toward his direction.

But just at this moment, the sound of iron chains shaking suddenly appeared in the white mist.

Then, an iron chain with a round head darted out directly from the white mist, wrapped twice around a Red Headscarf's leg like a spirit snake emerging from a cave, and then, amidst the other party's panicked screams, was dragged into the thick fog.

Subsequently, the sound of a blunt object smashing bones came again, and everything returned to calm once more.

The leader, seeing this scene, could no longer hold back and pulled the Trigger directly toward the place where the figure had just disappeared.

"Da-da-da-da."

As the leader opened fire, his subordinates also carried out a wave of strafing toward that direction.

Bullets pierced the air, carving traces into the thick fog, then hit the nearby trees, sending wood chips flying from the trunks.

However, where the Red Headscarf had just disappeared, nothing could be seen.

At this, someone finally couldn't help but say: "What kind of ghost thing is that?"

"Shh, shut up." The leader's face was grave; he slapped the face of the guy who spoke indiscriminately and said viciously: "All of you, give me your undivided attention."

Now the group dared not speak again and watched the surrounding environment vigilantly.

If there was even the slightest change, the leader would fire directly.

They had been in a standoff with some "thing" in the white mist for a long time, and there had been no movement at all.

This made the leader's subordinates become restless.

Those with poor psychological endurance quickly went mad and picked up the Bujiang in their hands, strafing the surroundings as if to vent.

"Bastard, you!"

The leader was furious and was about to scold his subordinate, but just at this moment, a figure appeared in the white mist, and a chain in its hand was whipped out toward that subordinate.

This time, the leader finally saw the other party's appearance clearly.

These people were wearing hooded robes, holding an oil lamp in their hands, and were being led by a chain as thick as a thumb.

On the hard shell of the oil lamp, there were still some bloodstains smeared.

Clearly, the two subordinates who had just been ambushed and killed were beaten to death alive by these strange people before them using the oil lamps.

Seeing this figure, the leader directly raised his muzzle and opened fire at the person, completely disregarding the life or death of the subordinate who had been dragged away.

The bullets killed his subordinate, passed through the flesh and blood, and struck the mysterious person.

But to the leader's horror, the opponent's body suddenly rippled.

Right before the leader's eyes, the bullets passed directly through this person; this scene left the leader and his subordinates stunned.

"W-what kind of monster is this?" the subordinate said with a trembling voice.

Now, let alone the subordinates, even the leader of the Red Turbans suspected that he had encountered something unclean.

After the mysterious person glanced at them, he no longer hid in the white mist and stepped out with long strides.

Moreover, there was not just one of these mysterious people, but over a dozen.

This caused a look of despair to appear in the leader's eyes.

Monsters that even bullets couldn't kill, and there were more than one—how were they supposed to resist this?

These mysterious people were not polite either; they raised the oil lamps in their hands and struck at them.

The power was simply like that of a cannon shell.

Anyone who was struck had the bones in their chest collapse inward immediately.

Some even had their brains smashed out.

As for the leader himself, he was, after all, not that kind of small fry. The great terror between life and death still allowed him to regain his senses, and he lowered his head to dodge the oil lamp.

He then rolled on the ground, and the Bujiang in his hand fired at full capacity.

This time, the bullets did not pass directly through as before, but instead, several blood flowers bloomed on the white-robed person.

"It works, they can be hit and killed." The leader immediately showed a look of pleasant surprise and immediately signaled his subordinates to return fire at that white-robed person.

It was just that the injured white-robed person suddenly flashed a smile at them and extended a finger to point at them.

Then, they were blasted by countless bullets; the bullets tore open their robes, revealing dark red flesh.

Before the leader could even be happy, he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Even though he had not been hit, tearing open his clothes revealed blood holes one after another, looking exactly the same as if he had been hit by the Bujiang in his own hands.

This was precisely another ability of the Ghost Demon.

Every demon is famous for having an extremely formidable physique.

And as for Dumu, who was even more formidable than the demons, Chen Jiajun even suspected that he could withstand the power of a Missile head-on.

After dealing with these robbers, the Ghost Demon turned and left.

Subsequently, Dumu arrived with his subordinate Imp slaves and rescued all the hostages who had been kidnapped.

"God, oh God. I thought we were going to die here."

"I want my mommy."

"This is truly great, truly great."

The rescued hostages were all full of gratitude; some were ecstatic, some were crying—it was a true portrait of all walks of life.

And this scene happened to be captured by the Reporter who had rushed over.

These Reporters were from the Brunei television station; they not only recorded the real scene before them but also interviewed several victims.

Although the victims did not see the process of what happened, they knew it was Dumu and his group who had saved them.

There are quite a few oddballs among the Gweilo; besides these grateful hostages, there was a young couple who had been roughed up quite badly, shouting for compensation and even condemning the mercenary group's methods as inhumane.

Even the terrorists who kidnapped them have human rights.

This set of logic works very well in Western regions and can easily attract all the media.

After all, those Western media outlets will do anything for ratings.

But this was Brunei, after all; they made such a fuss that the Reporters didn't even spare them a glance.

Instead, they began to take close-ups of the terrorists who had kidnapped the tourists.

Apart from the rescued tourists, these Red Turbans were the key targets they wanted to "interview."

There was no possibility of this matter ending peacefully; if it were easily glossed over, then such things might happen again next time.

Therefore, whether it was Chen Jiajun or Li Yaohua, both wanted to blow this matter up.

The bigger the commotion, the better.

So, after the tourists were sent back to the hotel in Brunei, Li Yaohua held a press conference on the spot at the hotel and invited global Reporters to attend.

Knowing that the Brunei tourist disappearance case had reached a conclusion, Reporters from various countries rushed over. (End of chapter)