The cold wind, carrying snow foam, whipped at Serie's face.
From afar, she gazed at the dark gray figures, moving like mobile tombstones, on the forest path below.
Initially, Serie's heart had struggled.
Killing people?
The very thought was like a giant stone thrown into still water, stirring up tumultuous waves in the calm lake of her heart, which had been undisturbed for over a decade.
Who was Serie?
A few weeks ago, she was just an ordinary university student.
She didn't even dare to kill a chicken when she went back to her hometown, let alone kill these living people, who also had their own lives and families.
Even though Serie's rationality was very clear—they were here to kill her!
They were here to capture her, imprison her in a lightless iron cage, and conduct inhumane experiments on her.
Perhaps it was Serie's hesitation, or an instinctive reaction upon seeing the hourglass-shaped emblem on the Soldiers' chests.
A memory not belonging to Serie uncontrollably surged into her brain—
"Anomaly 343, 47th experiment... content: neural tolerance and flame stress threshold determination..."
Blinding white light.
It wasn't sunlight; it was the stark white beam of a surgical lamp.
She was restrained on a cold metal table, her hands, feet, and neck locked by heavy alloy shackles.
A figure in a white coat, whose face was indistinct, held a steel needle and slowly plunged it into her exposed arm.
"Ugh ah—!!!"
Current coursed along the steel needle, instantly piercing her entire body, her muscles uncontrollably spasming.
That wasn't for punishment; it was merely to test her pain threshold.
It was to test whether her flames would go berserk under extreme pain, and whether extreme pain would affect her abilities.
Each test was accompanied by the cold beeping of the recorder and the emotionless exchanges of the researchers.
As if the one on the operating table wasn't a living person, but a piece of meat to be butchered at will.
Piercing screams and desperate pleas would not cause them any wavering; they would merely be recorded plainly and directly.
This made Serie suddenly gasp, her body trembling uncontrollably.
This should be the memory of Wildfire Witch, Zhuoya.
The coldness of those shackles, the sharp pain of the electric current, the indifference of the words in the documents, now seemed to be truly inflicted upon Serie, like a lit fuse, igniting Serie's painful memories in a chain reaction.
Two kinds of torment, originating from different souls yet equally cruel, now intertwined, resonated, and amplified within her consciousness.
The moral disgust was slowly replaced by a more primal emotion.
That was a rage that seemed to want to incinerate everything!
The gray figures of those Soldiers were not merely pursuers; they were accomplices of those in white coats, the extended claws of that cold system.
They had never regarded Serie and Wildfire Witch as human beings.
Why should Serie show them sympathy or understanding?
Should good people be held at gunpoint?
Serie's last trace of hesitation, that lingering moral burden from peacetime, gradually dissipated, as if evaporated by the raging inferno, leaving no trace.
"Come on, you scumbags..." A low, hoarse whisper, as if from the abyss of hell, spilled from Serie's, or rather, Wildfire Witch, Zhuoya's, clenched teeth.
She reopened her eyes, no longer any hesitation, only desperate madness and an absolute craving for power.
Serie didn't even consciously think about how to control it; that instinct stemming from Wildfire Witch erupted with her almost roaring intent!
Surging flames burst from her palm into the ground, without a fancy starting move, without precise aiming.
Centered on her, the accumulated snow in the fan-shaped area in front instantly let out a harsh "hissing" sound, vaporizing in large swaths!
The Soldiers heard the anomaly and looked down at the ground, only to see the earth beneath the snow layer crack open with a roar.
Immediately after, a wave of fire, as if erupting from a rift in hell, instantly engulfed their figures.
Wild flames, with an ominous, scorching white at their edges, swept madly along the ground like a living, raging tide.
The three Soldiers at the very front bore the brunt, suffering first.
A teeth-grinding "sizzling" sound arose as the special composite fibers instantly twisted and carbonized under the extreme high temperature.
"Ugh ah ah—!!" Piercing screams tore through the silence of the snowfield.
"Enemy attack—" The sharp alarm had barely begun before it was completely swallowed by the roar of the flames.
3/21.
"Fire! Free fire! Target—direction of the fire source!" The captain roared hoarsely.
After all, they were well-trained elites, and since the fire wave attack was fan-shaped, they easily located Serie's probable position.
Da da da da—
Dense gunfire erupted like popping beans.
Lethal streams of bullets tore through the air, with ear-piercing shrieks, shooting towards the birch tree where Serie was hiding.
Wood chips flew from the tree trunk, and the splashing snow foam almost obscured vision.
Bullets pierced the tree trunk but failed to hit her body, which was almost curled into the tree's shadow.
Several bullets almost grazed her scalp, the strong wind they brought making her scalp tingle.
Adrenaline surged, fear and excitement intertwined.
Serie was prepared, and the Control Bureau's Soldiers were even more so.
They knew what the missing convoy was transporting.
The remaining Soldiers quickly retreated, and three Soldiers in bulky fireproof suits immediately moved forward.
Swoosh—!
The fire extinguisher nozzles roared, and white mist shot out, instantly pressing down on the nascent flames.
Large amounts of white steam and smoke mingled, making this surprise encounter battle even more chaotic.
Serie observed from behind the tree, a faint red mist swirling around her.
Because War Frenzy had already been triggered—
War Frenzy: After defeating an enemy, temporarily gain one stack of Frenzy. Each stack provides a 3% boost to all attributes. This boost can be extended and stacked by continuously defeating enemies, up to a maximum of 15 stacks.
This was the temporary ability granted by the mission [Retreat, or Fight to the Death], which was simple and brutal.
Like a Berserker, she would grow stronger the more she fought, potentially gaining a 45% bonus to all attributes.
This was an all-attribute boost!
On the front battlefield, the other Soldiers were protected behind the three fireproof Soldiers, like fragile archers in a game hiding behind a tank.
In that case, she would pull the rug out from under them!
As a "flaming assassin," if she prioritized eliminating the high-damage, squishy "archers," the remaining three clumsy "tank" iron barrels, without fire support, would they not simply spin in place like tops?
Facts proved that playing games was still helpful in daily life.
After formulating her tactics, Serie used the rolling thick smoke to stealthily creep along the ground to the flank, like a ghost.
A cluster of low bushes became her excellent cover; her conspicuous silver hair and the white hospital gown covered in ash and scorch marks now became the best camouflage in the chaotic battlefield.
She held her breath, her eyes coldly locked onto her target—the Soldier in the back row, slowly advancing with a raised gun, who had fallen slightly behind due to the advancing formation.
Now!