Chapter 134 Southern Battlefield
The southern battlefield, a desolate land at the edge of the interstellar space, was once a prosperous interstellar trade route, but now it has become a ruin of war. There is not a single cloud in the sky, only a light gray haze, as if even the air is polluted by the smoke of war.

The ground was covered with charred soil and broken rocks, like a dead wilderness. The once vibrant vegetation had long been destroyed by the flames of war, leaving only patches of withered grass and scattered dead trees, with twisted trunks like wails in pain. Occasionally, some broken mechanical wreckage could be seen, scattered on the ground, covered in rust, as if telling of the fierce battles that had once taken place.

In the distance, an abandoned outpost stood alone in the wasteland, its walls covered with bullet holes and traces of explosions, and the remaining building materials made a desolate whine in the wind. Broken flags and abandoned weapons were scattered around the outpost, as if silently accusing the tragic battle that had taken place on this land.

The air was filled with a pungent smell of gunpowder and a faint smell of blood, which made people feel suffocated. Occasionally, a few mechanical birds circled in the sky, and their shadows were projected on the ground, appearing particularly lonely and helpless.

In this desolate battlefield, silence is the only thing that dominates. There is no bird song, no wind sound, only the occasional low sound of machinery in the distance, as if everything on this land has died, leaving only cold metal slowly decaying in endless time.

The desolation and bleakness of the southern battlefield makes people feel as if they are in an abandoned world. Every inch of land and every stone here seem to silently tell the cruelty and ruthlessness of war. The former prosperity and hope have long been destroyed, leaving only endless desolation and sorrow.

In this dead land, time seems to have lost its meaning, and the past and the future have become blurred. Only this desolate battlefield is quietly waiting, waiting for the day when people will discover the cruel past that has been buried in the dust.

Carl saw the desolation and desolation of the southern battlefield. He walked steadily, and the scorched earth under his feet made a slight sound under his military boots. Carl was wearing a special forces uniform, holding a gun and carefully scanning the surroundings. The black uniform was tightly attached to his powerful body.

His red hair shone like flames, standing out against the gray battlefield.

Carl chewed gum, and each chewing made a slight sound, which was particularly clear in this silent battlefield. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle, scanning the surroundings as if he wanted to penetrate this ruin.

He walked through the broken mechanical wreckage without stopping. The rusty metal fragments under his feet made fragile groans, as if telling him about the tragic battle in the past. But Carl had only one goal in mind, which was to find Zongfang and hand over the things she entrusted to that man in person.

Carl stopped in front of the abandoned outpost, his eyes swept over the dilapidated building, with a hint of exploration and scrutiny in his eyes. He raised one hand and gently pushed open a half-closed door. The door hinge made a harsh creaking sound, as if resisting his entry.

The moment Carl walked into the outpost, a strong sense of oppression suddenly filled the air. His ears caught a slight sound of wind, and almost instinctively, he quickly dodged sideways. A silver light passed by him, making a sharp sound of breaking through the air, and deeply embedded in the wall.

Carl stood firm and looked towards the source of the sound, only to see a figure slowly walking out of the shadows.

The man's silver hair fluttered in the wind, like silver threads in the moonlight, flashing a cold light. His eyes were like cold stars, emitting a heart-pounding chill.

Zong Fang was wearing camouflage combat uniforms, the close-fitting design outlined his well-defined muscles. His steps were steady and confident, and each step seemed to carry endless deterrence. In his hand was a silver long sword, the blade flashed in the dim light, as if it could cut through the air.

Seeing the person coming, the man frowned slightly, and a hint of doubt flashed in his eyes.

"You shouldn't be here."

Zong Fang's voice was low and calm, as if it came from an ice cellar, carrying an irresistible force.

Carl smiled evilly and chewed the gum in his mouth more rhythmically. He put down the gun, stood there nonchalantly, and said impatiently: "Do you think I am willing to come?"

He pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it up to his eyes.

"Someone asked me to hand something to you personally."

Zongfang's eyes fell on the envelope, and a gleam of light flashed in his eyes, but he couldn't believe it. He slowly walked over, stretched out his hand to take it, and opened it to find several photos.

"This is..." There was a slight tremor in Zongfang's voice.

His fingers gently stroked the edge of the photo, as if he was touching some treasure. Karl raised his eyebrows, glanced at him, and said, "She asked me to give it to you, and said you must see it."

Zong Fang's hands trembled slightly, but soon stabilized. He took a deep breath, carefully put the photo away, and then raised his head, with unremovable emotions in his eyes.

"What about her? Is everything okay?"

Speaking of Qiao Suisui, Karl put away his frivolous look, and thought of the kiss when he left, and couldn't help but smile.

"she's fine."

Zong Fang saw the doting in Carl's expression, and his heart ached. He tightened his jaw, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes patiently.

"Don't tell her about my situation here."

Karl glanced at him, knowing that he didn’t want Qiao Suisui to worry, so he nodded, and before turning around, he asked, “I’m leaving, don’t you have anything for me to tell her?”

Zong Fang stood in the bleak wind, the desolation and desolation around him seemed to be silently telling his inner thoughts. His figure seemed so lonely and resolute on the silent battlefield, and the silver long sword flickered in the dim light, reflecting the pain and longing in his heart.

Every day on the southern battlefield is a battle of life and death.

He starts killing people as soon as he opens his eyes. He is like a killing machine every day and needs to stay alert even when he closes his eyes.

The killing day after day made Zongfang numb.

Sometimes, when he was cutting the knife, he would feel a curiosity about others that he had never had before.

Who is this person? Does he have a lover? Is he also separated from his beloved like me?
Whenever he thought of this, Zongfang would always hesitate for a moment.

This kind of hesitation cannot exist in a place like the southern battlefield, because in just one or two seconds, you can lose your life.

He was tired of killing, but if he didn't kill others, he would be the one to die.

Zongfang looked down at the photo in his hand, and the appearance of the cub made his heart warm.

Go back, go back to her.

A voice repeatedly lingered in his mind, becoming the belief that helped him get through this long and numb time.

He missed her warmth, her smell, and the way his petite figure would be held tightly every time he held her tightly. That was his deepest concern and the driving force for him to persevere.

"Tell her I will come back to her soon."

(End of this chapter)