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Weariness seemed to be waiting for just this moment to strike, washing over him and seizing his brain.

Wang Zhong vigorously rubbed his face, but this did nothing to wake him up.

Damn it, just when I need to rely on my own hacks to alert me of the enemy, why do I feel sleepy now?

However, weariness didn’t care about Wang Zhong’s thoughts; it weighed on his eyelids like a thousand pounds.

His consciousness drifted uncontrollably, and in his daze, Wang Zhong suddenly remembered something his father, who had fought in the self-defense counterattack against Vietnam, said:

“Your dad might seem heartless, having gotten used to the death of several comrades and still able to eat and sleep on the battlefield.”

Could it be—am I the same, soon getting used to the battlefield?

Wang Zhong fell into a deep sleep.

He had no idea how much time had passed.

When he opened his eyes again, Su Fang’s face filled his entire field of vision.

Only then did Wang Zhong realize he had fallen asleep on Su Fang’s shoulder, drooling on her, and had wet a large spot on her chest.

He hastily wiped his mouth with his sleeve and said apologetically, “Sorry!”

Su Fang laughed, “You’re actually apologizing to me for this? When the rumors paint you as an even worse noble.”

Wang Zhong followed Su Fang’s lead, “What kind of noble am I in the rumors?”

Su Fang shrugged, “You know… like those bad nobles. By the way, are you—Are you and that Ludmila lovers?”

Wang Zhong was shocked, “Ludmila? Why would you bring her up?”

“Because you were murmuring ‘I hope Ludmila is alright’ in your sleep. I heard it quite clearly,” the girl said.

Wang Zhong made an evasive reply, “She’s a beauty; I wouldn’t want her to be spoiled by the Prussians.”

“Oh, I see,” Su Fang said, her voice carrying a somewhat self-deprecating tone.

On the driver’s seat, Sergey hesitated to speak.

Wang Zhong asked again, “How long did I sleep?”

Su Fang replied, “A few hours, I guess. Don’t you have a watch of your own?”

Only then did Wang Zhong remember, and he lifted his sleeve to check the time.

It was two o’clock in the morning.

At that moment, Sergey said, “Count, there are car lights on the road ahead!”

Wang Zhong looked up ahead and indeed saw a long queue of lights in the distance.

He immediately switched to an overhead perspective, and all the vehicles on the road ahead were highlighted: they were all enemies!

As Wang Zhong observed the enemy, his body felt the jolt of the brakes.

He quickly said, “Don’t panic! Braking will only draw attention. Just drive past, and we’ll stop when we get close!”

The jolting from braking stopped.

Sergey’s voice came through, tense, “Damn it, you’re insane!”

Wang Zhong ignored him and continued to observe the enemy.

Most of the cars on the highway were empty on their return trip, some still carrying the wounded and dead.

A car had only one driver, some were accompanied by a mechanic.

Large groups of Prosen soldiers were resting by the side of the road, with many campfires burning, showing no concern at all for the possibility of air strikes or artillery fire.

Upon careful consideration, since the enemy was moving forward with car lights on, a few campfires were relatively inconsequential.

Sergey’s voice trembled, “Are we really going to drive past? They are all Prussians!”

Wang Zhong switched back to his naked eye view and knocked on the rear window of the driver’s compartment.

Yegorov’s face immediately appeared on the other side of the window, “What is it?”

Wang Zhong instructed, “Tell the troops, there’s a Prosen checkpoint ahead. Get ready; once a fight breaks out, disembark immediately. Before that happens, no rash actions. You move only when I fire a shot; otherwise, hold your position.”

“Understood.”

Yegorov’s face disappeared.

Wang Zhong pulled out his pistol to check it, then concealed his hand in the shadow of the car door.

By now, Prosen soldiers had appeared on both sides of the road, surrounding bonfires, eating canned food, and not even bothering to glance at the truck on the road.

Wang Zhong caught the scent of the canned food, and his stomach growled loudly.

Damn, he should have snatched something to eat while waiting for the logistics troops and field hospital.

Looking out came a blocky object and said, “I’ve got some compressed biscuits, want some?”

Without a word, Wang Zhong grabbed it and crammed it into his mouth.

At that moment, the truck finally reached the busy roadside, where a Prosen non-commissioned officer, holding a submachine gun, stood in the middle of the road, his right hand raised high.

Wang Zhong recognized the gesture; when he was young, traffic police on the road used this signal to stop cars.

Sergey stopped the truck, breathing so heavily that Wang Zhong could hear him.

It could have been Sergey infecting him, as Wang Zhong’s own breathing started to quicken.

He stared at the Prosen officer, trying not to look at the submachine gun on his waist.

However, the officer had no intention of checking the people in the truck, or even shining a flashlight into the cabin; he simply turned to watch the supply columns retreating on the main road.

The enemy had never expected to encounter Ante Army members riding in their own military vehicles here!

Wang Zhong’s gaze followed the enemy, but he quietly flipped the safety catch on his pistol back on—if it had fired by accident in this situation, that would have been extremely unlucky.

Unlike Wang Zhong, whose concerns were beginning to ease, Sergey seemed to become increasingly tense, breathing as heavily as an ox.

Just as Wang Zhong worried that Sergey might snap any moment, the last supply truck passed the intersection.

The traffic-directing officer immediately turned around, making a “hurry up” gesture.

Wang Zhong smiled and nodded.

Sergey started the truck and drove onto the main road.

He nearly followed the returning convoy in turning left until Ludmila reminded him in Prosen, “We’re heading to the front lines! Turn right!”

Instantly, Sergey jerked the steering wheel hard to the right.

The Prosen at the crossroads burst out laughing, and someone shouted something that Wang Zhong couldn’t understand.

Once far from the crossroads, Wang Zhong asked, “What did the enemy just shout?”

“‘Rushing back to find mommy?’” Ludmila replied, “Basically, they were making fun of him.”

“I just slipped!” Sergey protested, “My palms are all sweaty, I could barely grip the steering wheel!”

Suddenly, Sergey’s voice dropped, as Prosen soldiers appeared again by the roadside.

This group of Prussians sat around bonfires, eating canned food, and even drinking alcohol they must have scrounged from somewhere.

The truck soon entered a small town where even more Prosen soldiers were roaming.

Wang Zhong reviewed the road from above and directed Sergey, “Follow this main road straight ahead; it’s clear sailing!”

Sergey was too tense even to respond.

Then they drove straight into the center of the town, into the central square.

Wang Zhong barely caught sight of a “mound” in the center of the square before realizing, as they got closer, that it was a mountain of corpses.

These bastards had actually killed all the townspeople??

This was just too extreme; Wang Zhong was so shocked by the enemy’s brutality that he was speechless.

Ludmila covered her mouth, struggling to stay silent.

Only after leaving town did the girl burst into tears.

Wang Zhong patted her shoulder; at that moment, his goals in this world subtly shifted.

He was not a citizen of the Ante Empire and had no fondness for “feudal dregs” like emperors and nobles.

But the Prussians’ massacre of civilians crossed a line for him.

He looked forward to using his overhead view to teach the Prussians a lesson they would not soon forget.