It rained like the sky was leaking.
Long Kunxing wiped the rain off his face, his military boots squeaking in the water. Most of the street lights on this old street were broken, and only one was left flickering brightly and dimly in the distance, making the raindrops shine like silver needles.
I had just completed my overseas mission and still smelled like gun smoke.
He habitually glanced around - the abandoned factory building on the left, the old residential building on the right, and the corner fifty meters ahead. Standard ambush terrain.
As soon as the thought occurred, a thunder exploded above his head.
Not just any thunder.
The thunder was purple, as thin as a needle, and stuck straight down. Long Kunxing didn't even have time to lie down when he felt that his whole body was hit by a hammer.
His vision went dark.
…
When I opened my eyes again, it was still raining.
