I met unscrupulous teammates at the beginning, watch me turn the tide

Just as the soldiers of Shelter No. 36 were resting on the spot.

A few scavengers riding camels appeared on the distant ridge.

Shen Bei could see their weather-beaten faces, dirty beards and white hair through the telescope.

Their cheeks were emaciated by lack of nutrition, their teeth were rotten, and their bodies were wrapped in layers of rags like bandages. Their eyes were dead, and they carried tattered bolt-action rifles. Only the occasional blink could prove that they were still alive and not the work of Dr. Batu.

Now, Shen Bei’s only worry is Dr. Batu’s fate.

After all, the Church of Almighty God sent out Bermuda.

In Shen Bei's expectation, this guy was not a "life form" that the leader of the Almighty God could mobilize.

I guess it was Dr. Batu who arranged this.

Now, the battle for the leader of Shelter No. 36 has ended.

But the battle for Shelter No. 8 has just begun, and I am really worried that Dr. Batu will intervene and disrupt the situation.

This guy has countless zombies. Even if he doesn't make subtle manipulations in the background, he can overwhelm everyone in Shelter No. 36 just by using the human wave tactics.

Fortunately, the humans in sight were not the living dead, nor were they scouts from Shelter No. 8. They looked more like scavengers who had come out of some unknown shelter and wandered here.

They came to pick up the shell casings and power armor wreckage left on the battlefield, and deftly peeled off the skins of the biochemical velociraptors.

These items were insignificant to the soldiers of Shelter 36, but they were a valuable asset to these scavengers. Bullet shells could be reloaded, the remains of power armor were of excellent quality and could be remelted to forge weapons, and the tough scales of the bio-raptor could be tanned and used to sew leather armor.

Shen Bei guessed that these scavenging old men were probably marginalized people in their own shelters, and perhaps they had ventured into the battlefield because of their difficult lives.

Only these brave scavengers, who are forced by life, dare to pick up garbage on the battlefield after the battle.

Some people in the team raised their rifles and wanted to shoot these dirty scavengers. Shen Bei stopped them and drove an armored off-road vehicle to the side of these elderly scavengers.

The elderly men didn't retreat in panic, but calmly dealt with the wreckage of a power armored vehicle. They removed the loose armor plates, tied them up with hemp rope, and strapped them to the camel's back. Only when Shen Bei drove closer did he drop the rifle from his back and raise his hands above his head.

"Don't panic, we just want to check."

As Shen Bei spoke, he took out a bottle of energy drink that had just been delivered by a helicopter and threw it into the hands of the leader of the group of scavengers.

The leader clumsily unscrewed the bottle cap, took a sip, and then laughed, carefully putting the energy drink into his bag. This leader was the oldest of the scavengers, his face covered with brown spots from the radiation dust, like rust.

His every move will determine the life or death of this scavenging team.

He spoke very fluently, but with a strange accent.

"Please check it, unknown brave warrior."

Two soldiers jumped out of the car and pinched their noses to check the scavengers' luggage. Their bags were stinking, and flies buzzed out as soon as they were opened. They were filled with all kinds of strange things: half a rat carcass, a ghoul's head, and the skin of a feral wolf.

"Where are you from?"

Seeing that he was reluctant to drink the beverage, Shen Bei gave him another cigarette.

"We came from Shelter 17 in the southwest. A fierce battle broke out there, making it a dangerous place. We didn't dare stay there any longer, so we came here to scavenge."