Chapter 345: This Person Looks Fierce

"Su-ge, what do we do now? Should we probe further?"

Wu Lue gently swayed the remote sensor, and the drone glided steadily through the air.

"Bring it back. No need to clash with a lone wolf."

Zhang Su patted Wu Lue's shoulder—he had never once considered, like Liu Shijie from the Shanhai District, ambushing and robbing lone survivors.

"Got it!"

Wu Lue maneuvered the drone into a flashy turn, then pressed the return button; it activated its autopilot and flew back.

Yet, as the drone turned back, the man stepped out from behind the tree and sprinted after its flight path.

"What the—?"

Without waiting for Zhang Su's order, Wu Lue immediately disengaged the cruise mode, halted the drone, and asked: "Su-ge, he's chasing us!"

"No sign of aggression. Let's see what he wants."

Zhang Su rubbed his frost-numbed chin, then hunched his shoulders—minus twenty degrees was definitely not meant for prolonged outdoor exposure.

The drone hovered ten meters above ground, observing the earth silently as the mysterious figure approached. Wu Lue, fearing stones or gunfire, kept ready to flee.

But no attack came. The stranger waved at the drone's lens, then turned and used his toe to scratch a large "S" into the ground. As he began tracing the second letter, Wu Lue spoke up.

"SOS, Su-ge—he's calling for help!"

Sure enough, as Wu Lue finished speaking, the stranger completed the "O" and began tracing the third letter—inevitably, another "S."

"Help?"

Zhang Su frowned slightly, studying the heavily wrapped stranger. He muttered: "This guy looks like a woman. A lone wolf—what could she possibly need help with? Let's bring her over and ask."

Ma Yu was currently expanding. If they could attract useful survivors from outside, it would benefit the camp. In the absence of danger, Zhang Su was willing to make contact.

"A woman? I didn't notice anything…"

Wu Lue slowly piloted the drone back, muttering—he was an experienced pilot, yet he hadn't recognized the stranger as female. It stung a bit.

"I wouldn't have noticed either, Su-ge. But now that I look, she does seem like a woman. She's deliberately masking it, making her movements neutral."

Chen Hanzhou watched the screen, analyzing carefully.

"Correct." Zhang Su nodded. "Lue, speed up. She ran pretty fast just now."

"No problem. This drone is a dream to fly!"

Wu Lue pulled the joystick back slightly—the drone's speed rose steadily. The precise linear control made him gush with admiration.

"You guys get back in the vehicle and stay alert. I'll talk to her."

Zhang Su signaled that only he and Wu Lue would remain.

The others had no objections—they climbed into the FJ Cruiser, its windows coated with ultra-low-transparency film.

The drone could have flown straight back from the fertilizer plant, but since the stranger couldn't cross the contaminated zone, she took the main road—slightly longer, but not by much.

Four minutes later, the stranger arrived nearby, stopping about twenty meters from the vehicle, neither advancing nor retreating—either out of caution or to maintain polite distance.

Whirrrr…

The drone landed gently. Wu Lue retrieved it as if it were a priceless treasure, not even glancing at the stranger.

Zhang Su's gaze never left her. From her collar, he could see she wore at least three different outer layers, with more beneath—bulky, disheveled. In this world, finding clothes wasn't hard. Why dress like this?

A scarf wrapped her entire face, leaving only her eyes exposed. Through the screen, details were impossible to discern. Now, face-to-face, his sharp vision easily confirmed: she was a woman. Her gaze was resolute, piercing—something he'd never seen in any woman in the camp.

She wore gloves. In her hand, a modified thin steel rod—two sizes thinner than the one he'd given Su Xiaoya. It bent easily under force, poorly made—but she'd carefully bent the grip into a loop, creating a refined simplicity.

"Hey, what's your situation? Why are you calling for help?"

Zhang Su hadn't spotted any firearm, but he didn't move closer.

As Zhang Su waited for an answer, a dramatic moment unfolded: the stranger expertly slid the rod into a special loop at her waist, then pulled a notebook and pen from her chest bag and began scribbling furiously.

"Holy shit… Su-ge, is this girl mute?"

Wu Lue paused mid-retrieval, leaned close to Zhang Su's ear, expression odd.

Zhang Su shook his head without comment, signaling: wait and see.

After half a minute, the stranger raised her notebook toward Zhang Su—as if to say: I'm done. Take a look.

"Give it here!"

Zhang Su understood. He gestured with his hand—throw it over.

Whether out of sincerity or some other reason, the woman held the notebook with both hands, stopped two meters away, bent forward, extended her arm, and offered it respectfully.

Zhang Su frowned slightly. This person radiated strangeness from head to toe. He reached out, took the notebook, and his eyes drifted to the page—his lips twitched.

Only four characters. And two of them were pinyin?

What level of education is this person?

Companionshoushang.

"You have companions?"

Zhang Su's first surprise wasn't the pinyin—it was the Chinese characters.

To him, this woman looked like a rootless vagrant, carrying all her belongings on her person.

The stranger clearly understood Zhang Su's question. She nodded immediately.

Zhang Su looked at her. "Take off your scarf."

He didn't ask to admire her beauty—he simply disliked speaking to someone whose face was hidden. Without seeing micro-expressions, he lost vital cues.

The stranger paused, then lowered her head, hesitated a few seconds, and began untying the scarf.

Soon, a face of striking beauty appeared before Zhang Su and Wu Lue. Her eyebrows, unlike the delicate willow-brows of most women, carried fierce masculinity—intimidating, sharp. Her nose bridge and lip line were equally edged with aggression.

"Holy shit. What a fierce woman."

In the FJ Cruiser, Wang Xin made a face, muttering: "Kinda like Ishii Toren!"

The others nodded in agreement—though none knew who Ishii Toren was.

"She feels dangerous. We should be careful."

Chen Hanzhou muttered, quietly resting his rifle on his mechanical prosthetic.

Wu Lue, who claimed to have seen countless women, felt his lips tremble. He averted his gaze, a faint fear rising—like facing a venomous snake ready to strike.

Even Zhang Su's gaze shifted from casual to sharp. No other reason—her aura of aggression was too strong. He had to raise his own.

Strip off those messy clothes, dress her in a tailored costume, and she'd be a swordmaster from ancient times.

Her age was hard to judge—months of hardship had altered her skin. Thirty was plausible. Twenty-five too. If she aged quickly, she might be even younger.

(End of Chapter)