Stop it, the country really can't fit any more bans on the domestic entertainment industry.

In the jungle, the light was dim.

"Set off!"

At the captain's command, the fully armed Alpha team sprang into action once again.

just.

This time, while their formation maintained the precision of their tactical search, but...

Well, how should I put it?

The feeling is like a group of top students who were going to participate in the International Mathematical Olympiad, holding the most sophisticated calculators, only to find out that the question on the test paper is "What does 1+1 equal?"

I have strength but nowhere to use it.

The team advanced in silence.

The jungle was quiet, with only the rustling sound of tactical boots stepping on fallen leaves.

The captain walked in the middle of the team, his gaze constantly shifting between the expensive tactical terminal screen and the muddy ground in front of him.

He was making a last-ditch effort.

"Sizzle—"

The static crackled through the headset again, followed by the excited voices of the technical staff at the command center.

"Alpha Squad, this is the information group."

"The satellite's hyperspectral imaging has just made a new discovery. At your two o'clock position, about 300 meters away, there is a slight abnormality in the chlorophyll content of the vegetation, which is suspected to be caused by buried metal affecting plant growth."

"This is an extremely important clue!"

"Coordinates have been synchronized. Please proceed to verify immediately!"

The sound was full of technological confidence.

This is the power of big data, the culmination of modern investigative techniques.

........................................

Upon hearing the report, the captain instinctively paused for a moment.

He looked up and gazed in the direction of two o'clock.

then.

He lowered his head again and looked at the ground.

Less than half a meter in front of his toes, the row of muddy Liberation shoe prints also happened to turn a corner.

The turning angle is very tricky.

no more, no less.

It's exactly at the two o'clock position.

Moreover, judging from the depth of the footprints, the person who left them seemed to have walked very resolutely, without the slightest hesitation, as if they already knew what was there.

"..."

The captain opened his mouth, about to reply with "Received," but the words wouldn't come out.

He felt a lump in his throat.

That's incredibly accurate.

It was so precise that he felt the military terminal on his wrist, which cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, was like an electronic toy used to coax a child.

"team leader?"

Through the headset, the technician, seeing no response, urged in confusion, "Please reply if you receive this."

The captain took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the indescribable sense of defeat in his heart.

"receive."

He replied, his voice somewhat hoarse:

"We...we'll be there now."

The team adjusted its direction and continued forward.

The further you go, the stronger that feeling of unease becomes.

Because they discovered that no matter how complex or sophisticated the analytical data transmitted from the command center was, it was all ineffective.

It could be a geological fault zone.

It doesn't matter if it's an echo from an underground cavity.

Even the vegetation anomalies detected by the satellite scan just now.

All of this represents the convergence of the wisdom of countless experts and the mobilization of national-level strategic resources to arrive at the correct direction.

On that path.

There will always be a clear row of muddy footprints, quietly waiting for them.

Those footprints were just randomly imprinted in the mud and on the moss-covered stones.

They extend steadily forward, without needing satellites, radar, or any big data analysis.

At the beginning.

The team members could still forcefully explain it away as a coincidence.

After all, there are only a few roads in these mountains, so it's normal for them to overlap if you're roughly heading in the right direction.

But this situation has occurred repeatedly, once, twice, and three times.

Everyone was speechless.

Even the originally serious and tense atmosphere in the team began to become somewhat strange.

The team members following behind looked at each other in bewilderment as they walked.

Although their faces were covered in camouflage paint, obscuring their expressions, their eyes revealed an incredulous disbelief and existential crisis.

I said...

One of the team members, carrying heavy detection equipment, couldn't help but lower his voice and whisper to his comrade beside him:

"Are we on a top-level special reconnaissance mission, or are we playing a game of spot the difference?"

"These footprints are really weird!"

The comrade next to him also twitched at the corner of his mouth, glanced at the captain in front, and whispered:

"Don't talk nonsense."

"However... this is really too outrageous."

"If the experts at the command center knew that the coordinates they painstakingly calculated were less accurate than a muddy footprint, they would probably smash their computers on the spot."

This sentiment spread throughout the team.

That feeling was awful.

It's like you're fully armed, driving a tank to go hunting, only to find that your prey has already been shot down by a passing old farmer with a slingshot.

This is not just a matter of efficiency.

This is a heavy blow to their professional competence.

at last.

After receiving another instruction from the command center, and discovering that the direction of the instruction once again perfectly matched the footprints.

The team member who had been in charge of scouting finally couldn't hold back any longer.

He stopped, turned around, and looked at the captain, who was covered in sweat and still gesturing at the terminal map.

"team leader."

The team member's voice carried a sense of resignation, almost as if they had given up on treatment, along with a subtle, tentative probe:

"otherwise......"

"Shall we just stop looking at that terminal?"

"Shall we follow these footprints and take a look?"

As he spoke, he pointed to the row of mud marks on the ground that stretched into the depths of the dense forest:

"Even if we're wrong, we're fast, so we won't waste much time."

in fact.

What this team member really wanted to say was: "Captain, let's stop wasting time pretending to be experts and analyzing rock strata data. Let's just follow these footprints. They've been more reliable than GPS all along."

but.

Saying such things directly would be too blunt and hurtful to one's self-esteem.

After all, they are the country's top special forces team, and they also have their pride.

So he used a more tactful way of putting it.

The words fell.

It was quiet all around.

All the team members stopped what they were doing and turned to look at their captain.

The doubts that had filled those eyes were gone; instead, they were filled with a hopeful expectation that someone would quickly agree and that they wanted to do the same thing.

Clearly, everyone was exasperated by this damn coincidence.

Everyone is tired.

I don't want to argue with these weird footprints anymore.

The captain stood still.

He felt the eager gazes of the crowd, and then looked down at the high-tech terminal on his wrist, which was still flashing various complex parameters.

He was silent for two seconds.

then.

"Cough cough."

The captain coughed lightly.

"Alright."

The captain lowered his hand, turned off the constantly buzzing tactical terminal screen, his expression somewhat unnatural, but his tone deliberately relaxed:

"Since everyone thinks so, let's go take a look."

"It won't waste too much time anyway."

After giving himself a way out.

The captain waved his hand, and this time he stopped looking at the map and waiting for satellite data.

He pointed directly to the footprints on the ground:

"Keep up!"

then.

This is a professional team that brings together the nation's top scientific and technological forces and is equipped with the most advanced reconnaissance equipment.

We completely abandoned the massive data analysis in the terminal.

They abandoned the large expert think tank behind them.

They began to concentrate intently, like a group of experienced hunters tracking their prey...

Follow the footprints on the ground.

Sudden change in painting style.

What was originally a high-tech search operation instantly turned into a back-to-basics jungle tracking.

and.

The results were surprisingly good.

No more need to stop and compare data, no more need to wait for satellites to change orbit.

Their speed increased instantly.

Following the trail of footprints, they passed through a dense thicket and climbed over a small, rocky hillside.

We didn't take any detours.

We didn't encounter any dead ends.

Those footprints were like a pair of eyes, helping them avoid all obstacles and choosing the easiest and straightest path.

Not long after.

It only takes about ten minutes.

When the scouts in front cleared away the last layer of vines that were obscuring their view.

My vision suddenly opened up.

They arrived at the valley at the foot of the mountain.

"Captain! Something's happened!"

The scout's voice was filled with barely suppressed shock.

The group quickly followed and rushed out of the jungle.

then.

At that moment, everyone's steps froze on the spot.

They were seen a few dozen meters ahead of them.

At the foot of that mountain, which should have been overgrown with weeds and deserted.

At this moment, a dark hole, clearly dug out recently, suddenly appeared.

The entrance to the cave was surrounded by piles of fresh soil, and the air was filled with a musty, decaying smell.

And at the edge of the cave entrance.

The trail of footprints that guided them was clearly imprinted on the soft, loose soil. The last step led them into the dark cave, where they disappeared.

Before they could even process the shock of actually finding it,

Sudden.

"Beep beep beep beep!!!"

An electronic alarm suddenly rang out in the quiet mountain valley.

The indicator lights on several instruments were flashing wildly, filling the room with red light.

This moment.

Amidst the sirens.

This fully armed Alpha team consists of more than a dozen battle-hardened special forces soldiers.

They stared blankly at the dark hole in front of them.

He looked down again at the ordinary shoe prints that eventually disappeared into the hole.

Everyone was completely dumbfounded.

In that instant, their minds were buzzing, and it felt as if a thousand alpacas were galloping through their hearts.

They thought of satellites, big data, and the busy figures of experts in the command center.

"no?"

"We really found it just like that?"