Qin Lie's words, "There is only one chance," hung like cold, dying embers, weighing heavily on the heart of every soldier in the Old Wolf Battalion. As his figure vanished, the barracks sank into a dead silence even more suffocating than before.
It was no longer sheer terror, but a complex mix of bewilderment, struggle, longing, and intense unease.
The optimized version of the *Eight Forms of Blood Battle* manual, wrapped in oilcloth and clutched tightly in Lin Feng's hand, felt like a branding iron heated to a glowing red, searing everyone's nerves and leaving them on edge.
Chapter 100