"Song Heping! You despicable bastard destined for hell!!!"
With that thought, Sanders could no longer suppress the raging fury surging within his chest. He let out a muffled roar, pounding his fist furiously against the cold, rough concrete wall beside him, the skin breaking open and leaving a clear bloodstain, yet he felt no pain at all.
The soldiers around him were also gradually coming to terms with the initial panic and relief.
Now, they were no longer afraid.
After all, those shells didn't seem to want their lives.
Watching the equipment in the yard being destroyed one by one, and looking at the still fierce but deliberately "off-target" artillery fire outside, everyone's faces turned extremely grim. A sense of being mocked like a monkey, combined with a deep helplessness, surged within them all.
Are they saved?
Temporarily, it seems, the attack by the 1515 terrorists was blocked by the artillery fire.
But are they really saved?
