After the team, Ning Fan didn't stop.
He began searching incessantly.
The second team, the third team, the fourth team...
More and more people died by the hand of Ning Fan.
In the jungle, it was as if a ghost was relentlessly hunting them.
In the depths of a swamp, inside several makeshift military-style tents, a man wearing a white mask with three marks on his forehead was frowning deeply.
He put down the walkie-talkie, looked at the people around him, and said gravely, "Things are looking bad, it seems they're not going according to our plan."
"Another team disappeared?" someone asked.
"Disappeared? Haha... they must all be dead," the man responded coldly, frowning.
"Dead? All those teams were scattered, all of them dead?"
He was the biggest leader here, and this was a situation they had never encountered before.
Initially, he just wanted to inquire about the location and progress of certain teams, but then he discovered that one team had stopped responding completely.
