SCP Corporation: Contain Bonfire-Chapter 42 - Attacker_1
Chapter 42: Chapter 42 Attacker_1
Chapter 42 -42 Attacker_1
Colin was full of curiosity about the food in this world.
After squeezing into the crowd and queuing for over ten minutes, he finally got a piece of bread.
It was black, the size of a palm, slightly heavy, and holding it felt like grappling with a hard clump of earth.
“Make way, move to the back, don’t block the way here,” a soldier distributing bread barked out.
Colin didn’t mind, and he stepped a few paces away from the crowd, amid envious glances. Driven by intense curiosity, he pinched off a small piece of the foul-smelling bread and put it in his mouth.
Instantly, his eyes narrowed slightly, his body quivered a little, and a thought emerged in his heart—why didn’t he bring Li Ming along?
Such unique Other World cuisine, not having someone to share it with on the spot was indeed one of life’s great regrets.
The bread in his mouth spread as it was broken down by saliva…
Colin finally couldn’t keep his composure any longer. His face twisted, he couldn’t help but spit it out on the ground.
“Hiss… it’s not bread at all, such a strong sour and earthy smell, there’s wood shavings, grass roots, mud, and sand. Everything but the taste of bread,” he muttered.
Things like Laoshan Snake Grass Water are nothing compared to what’s in his hand; he supposed only surströmming could compete with this smell.
In the spirit of not wasting food, Colin didn’t think of discarding it and planned to take it back for his teammates to eat.
The joy of sharing might be delayed, but it would never be absent.
“Hmm…”
A pained grunt came from beside him.
Colin turned his head and saw a dirty, skinny little child who had been pushed out of the queuing crowd and had fallen on his bottom.
It wasn’t a big deal, and Colin was about to look away, but his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
Noticing something, the child became abruptly vigilant. As he turned his head, his gaze met Colin’s directly.
On his filthy face, there was full wariness, but after seeing there was no issue, he couldn’t help but shift his gaze back to the bread in Colin’s hand, swallowing eagerly.
But, at one meter seventy, Colin’s size was enough to be considered towering and formidable among the short refugees, making the child hesitate to entertain many thoughts and ready to pick himself up and squeeze back into the crowd.
However, Colin’s next words made him stop.
“Do you want this?”
Colin flashed a friendly smile and tossed the piece of bread in his hand.
The kid paused, nodding hesitantly, wanting it but retreating further.
More than the food in the other’s hand, he was afraid of becoming the food in the other’s mouth.
But just then, he saw the other toss the bread over to him.
The child, ready to run away, caught the bread on reflex. Only when some unfriendly eyes turned to him did he snap back to reality. Without looking back at Colin, he turned and ran, disappearing in an instant.
“Quite vigilant, but that sharp instinct just now, was it a coincidence…”
Colin reflected that he had merely glanced over casually, and the kid had promptly turned and locked eyes with him, giving him a slight scare.
But it seemed there was nothing special.
It was probably just a coincidence…
But before he could ponder further, he sensed something, caught a familiar scent in the air, and noticed that among the crowd of refugees waiting in line, a few uninvited guests had slipped in.
They were the very ones who had tried to make a move on him earlier.
Was the battle mentioned in the “Book of Fate” about to begin?
Just at that moment, some commotion suddenly arose from the front of the queue.
“Please, I still have two little children, spare two more loaves of bread for us!” an old woman clutching the soldier’s hand pleaded, her face wrinkled like old tree bark, filled with supplication.
“Rules are rules, no more than two per person, you can’t take any extra!” the soldier replied, about to drag the old woman to the back.
But at this moment, the noblewoman standing at the front suddenly spoke up.
“It’s okay, give her a few more loaves, we’re about to arrive at Black Stone City anyway. Let’s distribute all the food—it’ll help lessen our load.”
Follow current novℯls on ƒгeewёbnovel.com.
After the noblewoman finished speaking, an old man dressed like a steward, looking fatigued, walked up to her and whispered in her ear:
“Miss, I don’t oppose your kindness, but we really should leave now. Nightfall is approaching, and if we continue distributing food like this, we may not make it on time.
“Perhaps we should just leave the food here for them to pick up themselves…”
The old steward suggested his idea, but before he could finish, the young lady interrupted with a wave of her hand, “You should have seen what happens when we do that, before we escaped from the great disaster.”
The old steward opened his mouth, but then, recalling the young lady’s character, he closed it again.
Of course, he knew all too well what would happen: these refugees would descend like rabid dogs to fight over food, trampling, scrambling, killing…
The death toll could likely surpass half!
But in the steward’s eyes, these were just the lives of lowly people—ignorant, short, dirty and foul-smelling, without manners, utterly without purpose. What use was there in caring about their survival or demise?
When did the lives of such lowly ones ever matter in matters of fate?
Their only purpose was to drive up the price of food!
“My command is my father’s command, get to it.” The noblewoman, noticing the steward’s reluctance, issued her final order. The steward nodded helplessly, “Yes, Miss.”
Alas, it was all because of the Saintess from the Church of Light. If not for her, the young lady wouldn’t even bother with these so-called lowly people.
“Thank you, thank you, you’re truly as kind as the Saintess…”
The old woman sobbed as she stepped forward to receive the bread from the soldier’s hand, but at that moment, an abrupt change occurred.
“What are you doing!?” The bread-offering soldier’s expression changed instantly.
He saw the old woman, who had just been crying, suddenly brandish an awl and stab it toward him.
In a flash, he drew the shortsword at his waist, parried the attack with a backhand stroke, and with a flick of his wrist, chopped off the attacking old woman’s head, then kicked the body aside.
At the same time, as chaos erupted, numerous figures in the crowd darted out, raising their right hands with wooden javelins and hurling them towards the horses in the carriage train.
By the time everyone realized what was happening, a batch of horses pierced by wooden spears screamed pitifully.
Most of the refugees still in line were startled by the sudden onslaught, scattered like birds and beasts, and fled in panic.
And some refugees, before fleeing, snatched a few loaves of bread in the commotion to escape with.
“Attack! We are under attack!”
The old steward immediately realized something was amiss, shielded the noblewoman, his frame swelling in that moment as muscles bulged beneath his clothes.
Then, dozens more wooden javelins flew from the sky!
The well-trained soldiers reacted swiftly, fending off the assault, but to their palpitation, from amidst the scattering and panicked crowd, a group of people dressed as refugees from all directions closed in on them.
This group numbered at least a hundred, short in stature but robust, and without a word of warning, slinging seven or eight javelins each, they launched a volley towards the people in the carriage train.
Many refugees who couldn’t escape in time were impaled on the spot, turning them into porcupines on the ground.
Colin, also included in the range of attack, stood behind a tree and peeked out, smelling a familiar scent on these attackers.
A scent that stirred an intense hunger.
