However, this tranquility was completely shattered the instant a sharp, urgent assembly whistle pierced the night sky. The blast was abrupt and piercing, like a blade thrusting straight into everyone’s dreams.
Liang Song sprang from his bed like a coiled spring the moment the whistle blew. His body seemed to react by instinct; without a moment’s thought, his muscles began a series of familiar movements. He pulled on his combat fatigues with such speed that it felt as if the clothes had flown onto him of their own accord. He buttoned every button with unerring accuracy and subconsciously smoothed out every crease.
He lunged toward his bedside and grabbed his rucksack, which he had kept impeccably organized. The straps, worn white from years of use, remained sturdy.
Chapter 464