Ch. 407: Mr. Edwards’ Unraveled Life Chapter 407

Chapter 407

Norah felt the ground tremble beneath her feet.

She leaned against a tree for support, her eyes drawn to the sky—it was burning red.

Then came the sharp bursts of gunfire.

Instinctively, she turned toward the sound, and what she saw made her blood run cold.

A group of men in camouflage uniforms, rifles in hand, swept through the village like a plague. Wherever they passed, bodies crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath them.

Norah held her breath, frozen in place. She watched as the armed men stormed into small houses, emerging moments later with sacks of stolen goods. Then, without hesitation, they set the homes on fire.

Her mind reeled.

These men… they looked like soldiers. But soldiers were supposed to protect, not slaughter. Soldiers were supposed to be like Kevin—disciplined, honorable, willing to sacrifice themselves to save others.

A flag caught her eye, flapping violently in the wind.

Black, with a white skull at its center. Below the skull, a cobra coiled menacingly.

A chill ran down her spine.

“Withdraw!”

The order was barked in Chinese.

Within seconds, the group piled into military vehicles, the engines roaring as they sped away.

Norah hesitated for a moment, then cautiously stepped forward. The scene before her was nothing short of a nightmare. Corpses littered the ground—elderly men, women, children.

Some of the little ones… their hands and feet had been severed.

A wave of nausea hit her hard. She gagged, barely holding back the bile rising in her throat.

The crackling of flames filled the air.

This wasn’t an army.

This was pure evil.

She clenched her fists. Steven and Kevin were still missing. And Karina—she had been separated from her.

Suddenly… something moved.

A hand twitched beneath a pile of bodies.

Norah’s pulse spiked.

But she forced herself to stay calm. Swallowing back the revulsion, she rushed forward and began pulling corpses aside, ignoring the stench of blood.

In less than two minutes, she uncovered a face—bloodied, but alive.

A boy. No older than fifteen.

His face was barely recognizable under the grime and blood, but his eyes… they were sharp, clear, and full of defiance.

He studied her warily. “Are you from Craggaville?”

His Chinese was broken but understandable. Norah’s eyes widened in surprise. “I am. You speak Chinese?”

The woman she had met earlier couldn’t speak Chinese, but this boy…

The boy gave a small nod. “Some Chinese soldiers came here before. They taught us. They helped us dig wells, showed us how to grow food, fix houses… even taught us how to read.”

But now…

His home was gone.

Norah’s gaze fell to his arm. A deep gash ran down its length, the torn flesh exposing raw muscle.

“You’re hurt,” she said.

The boy didn’t even glance at his wound. Instead, he silently moved the bodies, his movements steady despite his injuries.

He was strong—too strong for someone his age. He gritted his teeth, refusing to make a sound of pain.

Norah was struck by his resilience. “Why are you doing this? Aren’t you scared?”

The boy let out a bitter laugh. “These people… they were my family. My grandmother. My little brothers and sisters.”

Norah’s heart clenched. Though he spoke with forced detachment, the grief in his eyes was unmistakable.

One moment, they had been living their lives. The next, his entire world was wiped out.

Silently, she stepped forward and helped him gather the bodies.

As they worked, she asked, “I saw everything. Weren’t these men soldiers? Did your village do something to provoke them?”

The boy’s expression darkened, a flicker of rage flashing in his eyes. “What could old people and children possibly do? Those weren’t soldiers. They were Pharaoh’s men.”

His voice was laced with hatred, each word ground out between clenched teeth.

The village’s able-bodied men had left—either to earn money or because they had been forcibly conscripted. The ones left behind had been defenseless.

They just wanted to survive. Was that a crime?

“I’m sorry,” Norah murmured, at a loss for words. The army she had always believed in—structured, disciplined—didn’t exist here.

And the boy had just confirmed her worst fears.

Pharaoh.

His men were after her. He was manufacturing poison. And now, his people were massacring entire villages.

“There’s so much war here. Why are you here?” the boy asked suddenly.

The people here were either survivors, peacekeepers, or Pharaoh’s men. The local army was too weak to protect anyone.

Norah hesitated, then answered truthfully. “I came to find someone. A few friends, actually… but we got separated.” She paused before asking, “What’s your name?”

The boy didn’t respond. Instead, he disappeared behind a house, returning moments later with a bundle of dry branches.

Norah followed him. She didn’t need to ask what he was doing. He was preparing to cremate the bodies.

The fire roared to life, its glow illuminating his face.

Finally, he spoke. “This is the northern part of the Yi tribe.”

Still, he refused to give her his name.

Norah understood—he was still wary. But she admired him. Even in his grief, he was determined to give his people a proper farewell.

She decided to take a chance. “I need a translator. I don’t speak the Yi language. Will you come with me?”

The boy turned to her, his eyes sharp with suspicion. “Who are you looking for?”

“Someone very important to me.”

She wasn’t sure if Julissa, the woman, or the child had managed to escape. But right now, she needed help.

The boy didn’t answer.

Norah tried again. “Let’s check the houses for medicine first. Your wound needs to be treated before it gets infected.”

If she wanted him to trust her, she had to show she meant no harm.

Still, the boy didn’t move.

With no other choice, Norah went from house to house, searching through the wreckage. Every home had been ransacked, its contents overturned and stolen.

After a while, she managed to find a small bottle of iodine and a roll of gauze.

When she stepped outside, she saw the boy furiously tearing down the flag with the skull and cobra emblem.

The firelight cast shadows over his face, but his hands never wavered.

Norah clenched the gauze in her hand.

She had to get him out of here.