Finally, he reached the drainage ditch and carefully laid the pilot down at the bottom. The pilot’s face was deathly pale, bloodless as a thin sheet of paper, and his breathing grew increasingly faint. Every gasp was a final struggle against death, the sound so weak it was almost imperceptible. Liang Song looked at him with a heart full of sorrow, his eyes swimming with worry and reluctance to let go. He silently swore he would protect him at all costs. He grabbed his rifle; the stock was slick with his sweat. He gripped it hard, trying to steady his shaking hands. His finger rested on the trigger, the cold metal feeling like his only connection to the world. He kept his eyes locked on the enemy armored vehicle, his heart pounding like a war drum, the thumping so violent it made his chest ache. As he ran through combat strategies in his mind, the armored vehicle slowed to a halt. Its treads ground against the earth with a harsh, teeth-gritting screech—a demonic roar that shattered the suffocating, fleeting silence of the area.
With a heavy, metallic clang, the hatch groaned and swung open like a weary sigh. A group of heavily armed soldiers swarmed out. They wore uniform dark-green combat fatigues, a shade as dull as reefs in the deep sea, radiating an oppressive air. Their eyes were fierce and guarded, like starving wolves hunting for prey, and it felt as though their cold gaze could shroud everything it touched. They quickly spread out in a fan formation, their heavy comba…
Chapter 411