The Camp Leader frowned and shouted again, "Where's the lookout? Stop just drinking, you idiots, the posts need to be manned. What if there's a damn enemy attack?"
"Camp Leader, you're joking, who would dare to come..."
"Shut up," the Camp Leader cursed harshly, "damn it, go check if anyone's slacking off."
The bandit, reluctantly, put down his wine cup and walked out of the camp.
Once he left, he never returned.
A full 30 minutes passed, and the surroundings remained eerily silent.
The Camp Leader sensed that something was wrong.
The originally intoxicated crowd felt a chill in their hearts, sobering up slightly.
"Where are the people?"
The Camp Leader pointed out two more people and ordered, "You two, go check outside."
The two men were unwilling, but faced with the fierce expression of the Camp Leader, they didn't dare refuse.
They drew their knives, their legs somewhat weak, crouched down, sweating coldly, they cautiously walked out.
