The bronze lantern trees in the underground palace swayed in the thick smoke, and Lin Zhao's riot shield made a muffled sound when it hit the stone wall.
His back was pressed against the cold white marble wall, and the burning pain in his right shoulder was like being repeatedly burned by a soldering iron - when the stray bullet penetrated the body armor half an hour ago, he even heard the soft sound of the bones cracking.
"The surname is Lin!
Hand over the jade seal if you know the truth! "Scar's voice mixed with the smell of explosives filled his nose. The scar slashed diagonally from the end of his left eye to his lower jaw, which was now green with excitement.
He was holding a modified shotgun, the barrel of which was still smoking. Four of his men behind him were holding Luoyang shovels and were using hydraulic pliers to cut off the last anti-theft chain.
Lin Zhao stared at the entrance to the main coffin room five steps away.
It was supposed to be the core restricted area of Qin Shihuang's Mausoleum. At this moment, the third bronze door had been blown out of a half-person-high gap, and the inscription "Ordered by Heaven, Live Long and Prosperous" on the lintel was falling into rubble.
His right hand was tightly clutching the emergency detonator on his waist - three days ago he had piled half a ton of black powder behind the door, waiting for the tomb robbers to break in.
