As his finger squeezed the trigger, the machine gun roared. Tongues of flame spat from the muzzle, and bullets poured down like rain toward the pursuing enemies across the riverbed. Brass casings clattered onto the cabin floor like a shower of gold, the crisp, rhythmic sound echoing through the helicopter cabin like a triumphant anthem.
Liang Song leaned against the cabin wall, gasping for breath. He watched the machine gunner’s practiced, steady movements and listened to the whistle of passing bullets and the sharp clicking of the falling casings. A complex surge of emotions washed over him. There was the relief of having survived, a feeling that felt like warm sunlight dispelling the long-standing shadows in his heart. Yet, there was also a profound sense of reflection on the long, grueling crisis they had just endured and the immense difficulty of their journey. He knew that while they had temporarily shaken off their pursuers, the road ahead remained full of unknowns and challenges. This dried-up riverbed and this group of pursuers were but one crisis in a long odyssey; in the future, perhaps even more formidable enemies awaited them.
The helicopter gradually ascended. Below, the dried riverbed and the figures of the pursuers grew smaller and smaller, eventually fading into two blurred black dots.
Chapter 435