Word is, this old-timer used to be a retired officer from the City Defense Army's Heavy Armor Mecha Master division.
During a beast tide, he'd used his own arm to jam a Demon Beast's mouth shut to protect his teammates. That's how he lost his hand.
Compared to the fawning Zhou Ping, the grim Evil Qi emanating from Lei Zhen was clearly more to the pilots' liking.
Lei Zhen used his good left hand to pull a pack of cheap cigarettes from his pocket. He stuck one in his mouth but didn't light it.
His sharp eyes swept across the cafeteria, finally landing on Han Feng's table.
To be precise, they landed on the tall pile of bones in front of Han Feng.
"A good appetite is a blessing."
Lei Zhen strode over, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
The metal chair let out a strained CREAK under his weight.
"In our line of work, if you don't have some fuel in the tank, you can't even pull the control stick."
His voice was coarse and raspy, extremely grating to the ear.
