A ripple of fear surged through her. Her breath hitched, and her chest felt as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible giant hand. She couldn't help but press herself close to He Chenguang, as if drawing strength and a sense of security from him. She gripped her gun even tighter, her knuckles turning white from the force, the veins on the back of her hand clearly visible. Her heart raced, drumming against her ribs like a war drum being struck with a frenzy, as if it were about to burst through her chest. Yet, she fought to suppress the tide of fear rising within her, biting down hard on her lower lip to maintain her composure. She knew she could not panic now; doing so would only become a burden to He Chenguang.
"Old He, who are those people?" Wang Luoran whispered. Her voice trembled, though she tried her best to keep the volume low, each word feeling as if it were being painfully squeezed from her throat, for fear of alerting the phantom-like shadows in the dark.
He Chenguang did not answer immediately. His lips were pressed into a firm, knife-edged line, and his brow was furrowed with deep lines across his forehead. He stared fixedly in the direction where the shadows moved, as if trying to pierce through the unknown threat. After a moment, he said in a low, heavy voice, "No matter who they are, they won't stop us." His tone was deep and resolute, as if erupting from solid rock. He knew they were in a dangerous situation and that every second counted. They could…
Chapter 367