Under the somber night, on a lonely ridge, dozens of shadows madly dashed forward, constantly changing directions and unpredictable, moving at an astonishing speed. Above, a WZ-10 helicopter circled with huge lights illuminating the ground, tirelessly searching for targets. The silence ahead was unsettling, like there was nothing there, making Luo Zheng secretly wary. Who could remain so composed?
"Take cover." Luo Zheng sensed something was amiss and shouted in a deep voice.
But it was already too late; a comrade screamed and fell to the ground. Ghost Hand, who was madly charging forward, saw a comrade struck down and immediately flew into a rage, rushing over quickly, while others took cover, nervously watching the surroundings. Luo Zheng heard Ghost Hand's angry roar and sensed things were going awry, shouting, "What's happening?"
