At this moment, Barton was slaughtering scattered and fleeing soldiers in the forest. To him, hunting wasn't just about filling his stomach—it was a form of enjoyment and pleasure.
Among the group of fleeing soldiers, Lynch, who was approaching from the opposite direction, stood out conspicuously.
Barton, of course, had noticed this prey who had been lingering on the outskirts of the battlefield for a long time. Initially, he planned to finish off the others and savor this delicacy last. Unexpectedly, the delicacy didn't run away but instead approached him voluntarily.
Barton instinctively stopped chasing the other food and turned his gaze toward Lynch, who was now a hundred meters away.
With curiosity, Barton said, "In all my years of hunting, this is the first time I've encountered prey walking willingly into my mouth."
Lynch appeared tranquil: "Or maybe what you're seeing isn't prey, but the hunter instead?"
Barton paused for a moment.
"Haha!"
