Led by the old man, the group hurried along the rugged, winding mountain path, heading west in the direction the Japanese Army had taken. The sky grew increasingly dark; thick, ink-like clouds churned and piled up, pressing down upon the forest as if portending an imminent storm. A damp chill permeated the woods, and the occasional cry of an unknown bird sounded eerie and mournful.
As they reached a narrow mountain col, Leitao suddenly raised his hand to signal everyone to stop. He had keenly sensed an unusual movement ahead. The group quickly dispersed, finding cover for themselves, their guns trained forward in high alert.
Crouching low, Leitao crept forward silently for some distance. Through the dense foliage, he caught a glimpse of several figures moving ahead—it was the Japanese Army. They were laboriously dragging those mysterious crates along a rugged trail.
Chapter 261