The smell of gunpowder smoke hadn't dissipated yet, mixed with the moist earthy smell after the rain, and entered Xie Bianyun's nose. He leaned against the broken brick wall of the watchtower in the central shelter. The wound on his left leg was still aching faintly - it was opened by the gatekeeper with space debris before he died. The edge of the wound was glowing with an abnormal lavender color, as if it had been eroded by some kind of energy. The wind wrapped with broken raindrops hit his face, which was cool but could not suppress the faint feeling of heat under his skin. It was because his space was restless, as if it was responding to the increasingly clear vibrations coming from the ground.
"Brother Bian Yun, the anti-inflammatory medicine is here." Lin Xiaoyu's voice was breathy, and he ran over with a metal medicine box in his arms. Water was still dripping from the ends of his hair, and there was a piece of gray-black wall skin on his forehead, but his eyes were very bright, like stars in the dark night. She squatted down and carefully rolled up Xie Bianyun's trouser legs. When she saw the wound, she couldn't help but frown, "Why hasn't this wound scabbed yet? Doctor Wang said that if it happens again tomorrow, we have to use the special-effect gel we got from the laboratory."
