Chapter 655: 645 No Way Forward

Everyone stared in stunned silence, looking at the direction the driver pointed, unable to speak.

"There was still a road here just a few hours ago."

Zheng Ren looked ahead; countless rubble piled up into hills. Dozens of meters away, there seemed to be a faint splash of bright color.

"What is that over there?" Zheng Ren pointed.

The group trudged over the rubble, and after a few steps closer, the patch of color turned a vivid red.

The nearer they got, the clearer it became.

It was a half‑torn flag…

An indescribable sense of oppression weighed on everyone's hearts. A flag couldn't just appear here out of nowhere; surely someone had carried it up the mountain and been crushed by falling rocks.

Everyone fell silent and began digging, never expecting that rescue work would start right then. But after clearing just one layer of rubble, they all froze.

Beneath several huge rocks lay a pale hand clutching the flag—no pole, just the flag itself, reaching out. Under the stones, dried bloodstains had dyed the flag red, a swath of crimson.

No one knew their names or what they looked like. In the future, even death would not be recorded; they would merely be listed as missing… Their fervent zeal had not yet taken them into the mountains or to the disaster zone when the earthquake wiped them from this world.

The only trace left was that flag, soaked in fresh blood.

Rescue now seemed meaningless. The group exchanged glances, then stood at attention and saluted. Zhao Yunlong marked the spot—this was where a rescue team had been wiped out not long ago. Any further work would have to be left to the larger units arriving later.

Zheng Ren silently pried open that hand; the grip on the flag was so tight that he felt the man might still be alive.

He took the flag in his hands, folded it carefully, and placed it close to his chest.

The driver returned to the vehicle, brought out the bottled water he'd carried, and handed each person a bottle.

No one spoke, nor exchanged glances; the silence even carried a hint of indifference.

Perhaps people far away would weep in sorrow, but here, with aftershocks still ongoing, the Sharp Blade Squad could be buried by a slab of rock at any moment.

Perhaps even their bones would not be found.

Perhaps not even a name would be left behind.

It was just like a few hours earlier, when the driver watched helplessly as his comrade‑in‑arms, standing in the parking spot behind him, was swallowed by splitting rocks.

Just like this unnamed squad before them, they had no hope of rescue—only a hand and a flag remained.

Any blessing would be pale and powerless.

Perhaps on the way back, they too would follow their comrades into the dust.

So, do what you can. Grief is meaningless right now.

As for the rest, leave it to fate.

After handing out the water, the driver silently walked away, came to the front of the vehicle, turned, looked back, and quietly rendered a military salute.

Zhao Yunlong returned the salute, his expression grave.

Immediately after the salute, Zhao Yunlong turned and said, "Let's move out!"

With no road underfoot, the more people walked, the more a path formed. But this should be the first group to tread this altered terrain.

Looking around, nothing but rocks stretched in every direction.

The constant sound of shifting and rolling stones filled their ears.

How should we proceed?

No way forward!

But this is the mission! If South River Town still exists, survivors will be waiting for rescue there.

Aside from a few satellite phones, all means of communication have been cut off.

If they can't get in, these people have only a dead end.

Wait for the aftershocks to subside and heavy machinery to arrive; then, when the road is finally cleared, they will find more bodies and very few survivors.

Zhao Yunlong lifted his foot, stepped onto the rocks, and led the way forward.

Shouting ten thousand brave words would do no good; saving the time spent on slogans would let them walk two extra steps.

As for those "annoying" reporters and cameramen…

Zhao Yunlong judged that their pampered selves could never keep up; they might be panting and forced to stop any second.

What should be done? Perhaps it was better to let them wait in place for rescue, Zhao Yunlong thought.

Zheng Ren followed behind, wondering in his mind whether his Luck +12 would be of any use in this situation.

If it were useful, scouting ahead himself seemed the most fitting.

But seeing Zhao Yunlong's face, set on facing death, he guessed that saying anything now would be pointless.

The road is still long; let's wait a bit.

The sky gradually darkened, clouds covered the heavens, and the wind whimpered.

A drop of water struck Zheng Ren's face; he looked up, and more raindrops fell on his visage, as if the heavens were weeping.

It's raining—damn it!

Zheng Ren felt helpless; this damned weather. Every step was arduous, and even without rain there was essentially no road. Once it rained, the mountain paths would turn slick, and the Sharp Blade Squad might never reach South River Town, facing total annihilation.

Usually calm, Zheng Ren also felt a rise of despair.

He didn't know that, because of this rain delaying all rescue teams, the 15th Army's brave soldiers were being dropped from high altitude into extreme danger.

Zheng Ren knew none of this.

The group moved forward in silence, with Zhao Yunlong at the front cautiously testing whether the ground was solid. He had slipped twice already, each time being pulled back by Zheng Ren.

After two or three hours, they finally trudged slowly out of the area of piled rocks.

The female reporter behind let out a breath, wanting to say something, but she immediately sensed that the mood was off.

Ahead, it was pitch black; nothing could be seen.

The low rumble of aftershocks echoed faintly through the mountains, as if countless monsters underground were about to burst forth at any moment.

She tugged at the cameraman's forearm ahead and asked, "Old She, what's wrong?"

The cameraman's mouth and tongue were dry; helplessly, he pointed at the mountain ahead and said, "Xiao Sun, look at the mountain road—it's been shaken and collapsed more than half, only that little bit remains."

Reporter Sun narrowed his eyes, searching carefully; indeed, the winding mountain road at the mountainside originally should have been 5-8 meters wide, but now less than 1 meter remains.

This mountain road, less than 1 meter wide, still constantly has small rocks rolling down.

One side of the mountain road is towering high mountains and piled-up rubble; the other side is a bottomless cliff.

Her face turned deathly pale all at once... She was cold and hungry; her face was already not good, now it looks even worse.

At the same time, her heart started pounding wildly—could she really have to walk such a mountain road?

At this moment, she thought of her warm home far away in Di Du, her parents' kind smiles.

"Chief Zhao, take a break." Zheng Ren pulled Zhao Yunlong and said, "We've walked a long way, we're tired. Let's rest a bit, then we'll go up again."

Seeing the mountain road, Zhao Yunlong also felt a sense of awe and nodded heavily.

At this point, using the satellite phone to report, our side has no way forward—should we request to return to rescue headquarters?

Of course it's possible.

But he couldn't do it. It's not that there's no way forward—there is still a road ahead; it's just that this road is extremely dangerous.

"Rest where we are." Zhao Yunlong said in a low voice.

Zheng Ren glanced at the mountain road and said, "I'll go scout the path."

Having said that, he strode over.

Zhao Yunlong was about to call out to Zheng Ren, but seeing his agile steps—like a monkey's, seemingly not expending any stamina—he felt surprised.

Chief Zheng's Shou Bing was done well—how is his stamina also so good? He swallowed the words he wanted to say to Zheng Ren, struggled to breathe, his chest felt like it was burning with fierce flames, and gas exchange became a problem.

MD, this damned weather! Zhao Yunlong cursed in his heart.

"Boss, slow down, I can't keep up." Su Yun followed behind Zheng Ren, walking up that narrow mountain road that could collapse at any moment.

"Go back." Zheng Ren said, "I'll check the situation—don't worry."

"Nonsense, if you fall, someone still needs to pull you up." Su Yun, out of breath, said, "If you really die here, damn it, how will I explain to Xiao Yi Ren when I go back?"

"You follow me, I still have to take care of you—don't you feel like you're just a burden?" Zheng Ren marched on coldly, his voice coming through the icy rain, so cruel.

"Who the hell is a burden? Little master I have abundant stamina, endurance... limitless." Su Yun still wanted to habitually retort Zheng Ren a couple of lines, but his strength truly couldn't keep up.

Although he doesn't exercise daily, one can't deny that Su Yun this guy is indeed a natural genius; the stamina he has retained to this point is actually more than Zhao Yunlong's.

But he still couldn't keep up with Zheng Ren's pace.

Retreat? That's also not possible.

What Su Yun said is indeed sincere. The mountain road is slippery; if one is not careful and falls, one could really not even find a corpse.

With more people, there's a chance they could pull each other up in danger. Although it's more likely they'd also fall together, Su Yun could no longer worry about that.

The two nimbly climbed up the mountain onto that winding narrow path less than 1 meter wide.