The Bad Girl's Quick Transmigration System: Traveling Back and Forth

As the night deepened, the bonfire gradually dimmed, eventually turning into a pile of dark red charcoal, as if swallowed by the darkness. Most of the Black Scorpion's masters were already lost in sleep. They lay sprawled on the ground, their snoring rising and falling like thunder.

The village returned to tranquility at this moment, with only the occasional mumbling in dreams and the whimpering sound of the wind blowing through the treetops adding a strange atmosphere to the quiet night.

Yet, amidst the silence, Hawkeye Old Seven remained seated, as steady as a statue. He clutched the now-cold wineskin tightly in his hand, as if it were his only connection to the outside world. His gaze, deep and piercing, gazed into the endless darkness, as if he could pierce through the veil of night and see the miasma-shrouded Valley of Broken Souls.

"Falcon Squad..." His voice was low and hoarse, a whisper from the depths of his soul. The name kept echoing in his mind, causing his thoughts to drift away.

He thought of the leading female officer, and her final, resolute gaze. It wasn't simply despair, at least not just despair. In that gaze, he seemed to see anger, unwillingness, and a kind of persistence in a certain belief.

That kind of persistence made him respect them and also made him more curious about the Falcon Team.

"Faith?" Hawkeye Seventh chuckled self-deprecatingly, draining the remaining wine from his wineskin. The wine was pungent, but it couldn't dispel the inexplicable stagnation in his heart. He had seen too much death, his hands stained with blood, and his heart had become as hard as stone. He never believed in justice or faith, only in strength and the sword in his hand.

But today, in the Valley of Broken Souls, facing those female soldiers who knew they would die but still chose to fight, the solid barrier in his heart seemed to be gently knocked.

Their fighting spirit burned like a flame, blazing and unwavering. Their postures were slender, their steps light, and every movement was filled with strength and determination. Their eyes gleamed with an unyielding glint, as if telling the world they would not yield easily.

The female soldiers' delicate makeup was truly eye-catching. Their faces, delicately painted with colors, resembled a vibrant painting. Their vibrant lipstick accentuated their sensuality and charm. Their hair flowed in the wind, silky smooth and delicately scented.

The sexy leather bikini armor perfectly showcases their curves. The leather armor tightly wraps around their bodies, outlining their alluring curves. The metallic sheen and leather texture intertwine to create a unique allure. The bikini design not only showcases their sexiness but also reflects their courage and confidence.

The fighting spirit of these female soldiers burned like a blazing flame, fervent and unwavering. Their eyes gleamed with courage and determination, as if telling the world they were fearless. Every movement was imbued with power, and whether charging into battle or holding their ground, they displayed a tenacious fighting spirit.

Their delicate makeup, like a blooming flower, radiates a unique charm amidst the desolate battlefield. Their delicate foundation, silky smooth, adds a subtle luminosity to their skin. Their exquisite eye makeup frames their gaze, radiant as stars. Their vibrant lipstick, smeared on their lips, exudes an alluring luster, as if expressing their passion and determination.

The sensual bikini leather clings to their bodies like a second skin. Their exposed bellies radiate a healthy glow, their curves flowing and alluring. Their collarbones, faintly visible, resemble meticulously crafted works of art, exuding a unique sensuality. Their captivating bare backs, silky smooth, shimmer with a captivating radiance in the sunlight.

The presence of these female soldiers is not only a beautiful sight but also a symbol of strength. With their courage and tenacity, they demonstrate the power and value of women. In this desolate and desolate place, they are fearless warriors, writing their own legends with their vibrant makeup and sexy bikinis and leather armor.

In this desolate and desolate place, the female soldiers exemplified the true meaning of fighting spirit through their actions. Their vibrant makeup and sexy bikinis and leather armor created a unique spectacle on the battlefield. Their presence, for the first time, caused Hawkeye Seven to waver on this issue.

He remembered the female soldier holding the photo, the figure covering her companions, and the faint singing... These images, like tiny grains of sand, fell into the depths of his heart.

"After all... they're just pitiful people." After a long moment, Hawkeye Old Seven stood up, dusted himself off, and walked towards his tent. His back stretched out in the moonlight, carrying an indescribable sense of fatigue and heaviness.

As for Scarface, he slept soundly, a smug smile on his face, as if reliving the thrill of chopping down that "heroine" in his dreams. He would never understand, nor would he care about the ripples of emotion surging through Hawkeye Seven's heart. To him, those female soldiers were merely another insignificant footnote to his glorious record, a subject for drunken boasting. Their names, their stories, the reasons they fought for, meant nothing.

In Scarface's dream, he waved the machete in his hand and chopped at the female soldiers with bare backs wearing exquisite bikinis and leather armor.

The first female soldier's eyes were filled with despair and unwillingness. She tried to resist, but Scarface's strength was too great. Her body was ruthlessly chopped open by the machete, and blood splattered all over Scarface's face.

The second female soldier had a terrified expression on her face and a dagger in her hand, but in front of Scarface's machete, her dagger seemed so powerless. Scarface easily cut off her dagger and then plunged the machete deep into her body.

The third female soldier's beautiful face twisted as she died, and she let out a shrill scream. Scarface's machete left a deep wound on her body, and she slowly fell to the ground in a pool of blood.

The fourth female soldier had a look of determination in her eyes. She knew she couldn't escape Scarface's pursuit, but she still chose to face it bravely. She used her body to block Scarface's machete, and then used the last of her strength to stab her dagger into Scarface's body.

Scarface laughed wildly in his dream, reveling in the thrill of killing. In reality, the young Sanzi huddled in a corner, his heart filled with fear and self-blame. He couldn't forget the look in the dying female soldiers' eyes, a thirst for life and a commitment to justice.

The young man, Xiao Sanzi, curled up in a corner, had a nightmare. His dream was filled with the miasma of the Valley of Broken Souls and the dying glances of the female soldiers. He woke with a start, sweat pouring down his forehead, his heart pounding. He looked at his sleeping companions, at this "home" filled with blood and violence, and thought of the female soldiers again. What had they died for? Was it really for those so-called "hypocrites"? And what did they live for? Who were they, and what was it they were fighting for, or was it... killing itself?

He didn't dare to think further, so he could only close his eyes tightly, bury his head in his arms, and try to fall asleep again, burying those terrible questions and the wronged souls in the valley in this long night.

In the miasma-filled Valley of Broken Souls, the female soldiers were ambushed by Black Scorpion masters. They originally thought it was just an ordinary mission, but they never expected that what awaited them was a brutal massacre.

The female soldiers, dressed in uniform bikini-clad leather uniforms, were agile, yet at this moment, they appeared incredibly vulnerable. Their faces were filled with terror and despair, their eyes gleaming with fear of death.

Black Scorpion masters emerged from all directions like ghosts, their weapons flashing with cold light, mercilessly stabbing at the female soldiers. The female soldiers fought hard, but in the face of the powerful strength of the Black Scorpion masters, their efforts seemed so insignificant.

Some female soldiers were hacked to the ground, their blood staining their bikini-covered leather armor, their bodies twitching as their lives gradually slipped away. Others were struck by hidden weapons, groaning in pain, their bodies twisted and deformed. Still others attempted to flee, but were easily caught up by the Black Scorpion masters and brutally murdered.

The entire Valley of Broken Souls seemed to have turned into a bloody slaughterhouse, with the screams and pleas for mercy of the female soldiers echoing one after another. Their tragic plight was unbearable to watch, and filled with endless sadness and anger.

The miasma still permeated the Valley of Broken Souls, like the lingering grievances and cries of the female soldiers. Outside the valley, the Black Scorpion masters, with their own thoughts and assessments, continued their dark lives, some numb, some complacent, some with the slightest touch of emotion.

For the Black Scorpions, the battle at Broken Souls Valley was just one of countless missions, and those female soldiers were just one of countless enemies. As time passed, their presence faded, eventually replaced by new missions and new slaughters. Their discussions and comments were nothing more than drunken gossip, fleeting.

Yet, some things, once etched deep within the heart, are like the miasma of a valley: even after dissipating on the surface, they can still resurface at some unexpected moment, bringing with them a sense of inexplicable chill. Will the "resilience," "courage," and "faith" they scoffed at really be, as Scarface said, completely forgotten, leaving not even a trace of their bones?

The female soldiers' tenacity is as strong as steel. During training, no matter what difficulties or challenges they face, they never flinch. Sweat soaks their clothes, but it can't erase the determination in their eyes. Every time they stumble, they quickly get up and keep moving forward, as if nothing can stop them.

Their courage burned like a blazing fire, blazing and dazzling. On that brutal battlefield, they undaunted the enemy's relentless hail of arrows and spears, charging forward without hesitation. Their figures swiftly moved through the thick smoke, like fearless warriors, steadfastly protecting their court and its people.

Even with wounds inflicted and blood staining their battle robes, they remained undaunted, relying on their tenacious will and fearless spirit to continue fighting bravely. Every injury only made them more determined to wield their weapons and launch even more fierce attacks on the enemy.

Their faith, like the bright stars in the night sky, is bright and enduring. Firmly believing in their mission and responsibility, they are willing to sacrifice everything for the peace of the court and the happiness of the people. No matter how difficult or harsh the circumstances, they remain steadfast in their inner convictions, unwavering in the face of external distractions and temptations.

This belief, like a beacon, guides them in the dark and illuminates their path. At the same time, it is like a spring breeze, warming and inspiring everyone around them, allowing everyone to feel their determination and strength.

It was the resilience, courage, and unwavering faith displayed by these female soldiers that were key to their victory over the enemy on the battlefield. Through their actions, they demonstrated the power and value of women, breaking the traditional notion that gender limits individual ability and achievement. They are undoubtedly truly worthy warriors, worthy of our everlasting admiration and emulation.

Perhaps, in a fierce battle in the future, when these top Black Scorpion masters are once again trapped in dire straits, facing the difficult moment of life and death, the images of the female soldiers in the Valley of Broken Souls will suddenly flash through their minds. These female soldiers knew the difficulties were numerous, but they did not flinch, resolutely throwing themselves into the battle, showing astonishing courage and determination.

Their eyes, unextinguished in the darkness, were like the brightest stars in the night sky, gleaming with hope and strength. This determination and perseverance would be deeply etched in the memories of these Black Scorpion masters, becoming an unforgettable scene.

Yet, when they recall these women soldiers, how do they evaluate the souls they have lost? It's a question no one can definitively answer. Everyone's understanding of courage, sacrifice, and value is unique, and the spirit these women soldiers demonstrated transcends simple evaluation and definition.

The night was as dark as ink, enveloping the land and the hearts of the people. The deathly silence of the Valley of Broken Souls and the hushed stillness of the mountain stronghold echoed in the darkness, telling the story of the end of a brutal battle and the complex and heavy reverberations left by the countless lives lost. And the discussions and comments about the female soldiers, no matter how dismissive and dismissive, seemed to compose a silent elegy for them, echoing lingeringly in this dark world. The miasma symbolized their injustice, and the deliberately ignored fragments of their memories served as a further irony. What they defended with their lives was, in the eyes of the enemy, so insignificant, even laughable. This chasm in perception was even more tragic than death itself.