There is still no end to the battle on the front line, but the endurance of soldiers is limited. After wandering in the hail of bullets for four months, rescuing and burying an unknown number of combatants, I waited until the day when I was pulled back to the rear by the mobilization of troops. During these four months, of course, I had the opportunity to secretly entertain the female combatants in the same theater. When I was lucky, I could even touch the remains of one or two enemy female soldiers and secretly pinch them. Either still warm or already cool breasts. But even so, when I sweat profusely and pull out my johnson from between the bodies' cold thighs, or when I hear that my female comrade who played new tricks with me on the bed yesterday was bombed to the point of losing half of her body the day after. However, the reality of war will still pour into my every pores, firmly occupying a part of my soul.

I also had a little "good luck" the afternoon before I got my retreat notice. When cleaning the enemy's scientific research building where there was a fierce exchange of fire, I noticed that in the stairwell between the fourth and fifth floors, there was the sound of cloth as thin as papers quietly rubbing against each other. I immediately raised my assault rifle and headed up the stairwell.

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As expected, it was another young female soldier from the remains of the battlefield, kneeling on the ground against the wall, bleeding all over the place. When our group broke into the building the day before yesterday, our troops may not have completely covered the entrance and exit of the building, and some must have withdrawn from this passage. The person in front of me must have been seriously injured when the attack happened. She couldn't run anymore and was trapped right here. This girl's really tough though, she survived for so long...

The girl had a pure and fair face like one's first love as a high school darling, her brown hair seemed to reflect orange highlights in the sun. Her skin was in a slightly pale blue tone due to blood loss. She was also wearing a crimson leather bodysuit but with a white researcher's coat over it. A military wireless headphone is on her head. She's a technical specialist that rarely seen elsewhere on the front line. It was almost impossible to feel her breathing. The sound of the cloth came from the hard-to-notice vibration of her knees, rubbing her brown and black stockings up and down. Blood continued to flow down her neck. Her naked upper boobs are relatively clean, with only a little bit of the mixture of saliva and blood dripping from her mouth.

If it was two or three months ago, I might have done something more in line with professional standards: try to stop her bleeding, do some simple treatment, and say some words of comfort. But at the moment I just squatted down, looked at her appreciatively for a while, then reached out and dipped my fingers in the red mixture on her chest. When the chest was touched by a strange man, the girl finally had some reaction. She made a tiny whiny sound out of her mouth, and her whole upper body shook slightly, causing her chest to shake up and down. This small movement of only half a second seemed to have exhausted all her strength. She stopped still, only her pupils were trembling, looking at me.

I ignored the girl's painful struggle, I only held the liquid on my fingertips with my mouth and then sucked it hard. Yuck, smelly and salty. I don't even know why I did it.

As for the owner of this yucky body fluid, although she didn't move or speak, I could see from her eyes that she had been fighting back and forth several times in her heart: from the glimmer of hope that she seemed to be saved, to the surprise when she saw my strange behavior. From being afraid to accepting and calm from reading my expression. This calmness is the kind that I have observed countless times before, and it is full of powerlessness.

"...be gentle..." She seemed to have a premonition of what would happen next. The girl squeezed out a short mouthful of breath, and there might be a little bit of blood in it.

The girl's tragic and soft tone slightly softened my heart which had been hardened by living on the battlefield for a long time, and the hand that originally wanted to strip her corset stopped. Still feeling like it was a waste of resources, I pulled out the anesthesia injection and injected the full dose into the wound on the girl's neck. The girl's waist straightened up due to the pain from the injection, but she quickly calmed down. In fact, her senses should be close to numbness at this moment. It is really hard to say whether this will reduce or increase her pain, but the girl seems to feel a pinch of kindness from my actions more than before. Her body gradually relaxed in front of me.

"...Don't worry, you'll be fine..." I spit out that pale lie again. "Save some strength, I'll call for reinforcements." I don't know why, maybe it's because I've become sentimental again, I want an excuse to get away from the girl, and I can't bear to watch her inevitably die.

The girl stared at me with hazy eyes, and the coming of death may make people more clear-headed, making her easily see through my lies. Her hand struggled to rise, it was so slow but unexpectedly grabbed my wrist. I flicked my arm subconsciously, but I couldn't shake it off.

"...don't...don't go..." The simple two words seemed to drain her dry again, I could only wait for her to take a breath and speak again: "...be with me..." She led my right hand to her chest, and then pull down hard. A pair of white jade-like breasts bounced out from her bodysuit.

It seems that she has something to ask me. "Tell me what you want me to do for you," I said.

It was not easy to discern what she was trying to say. "...don't want...here...death...please...take me...take me...leave...prettier...I don't want...so..." I patted the girl's face and nodded, indicating that I already knew her request.

The girl also nodded slightly to me and gave me a pale but extremely sincere smile. She took my hand and pressed it deep between the soft lumps of her chest. If I am the ferryman of the underworld, now is the time to gather the fare.

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