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Single Line Blasting Shen Jingzhe
It was just after midnight, and the wind beside the canal was smelly. Shen Qian pressed his back against the damp brick wall and pressed his thumb on the phosphorus surface of the matchbox, once, twice - this was the third time to confirm the password tonight.
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Chen Han Spy Hunting
Lin Mo stepped on broken bricks and climbed up a slope. The soles of his boots sank into the mortar, making a squeaking sound. Heat steamed up from the cracks in the bricks, carrying a burnt smell - cloth, wood, and other things were mixed together and burned. The taste penetrated into the throat, fishy and bitter, like swallowing a mouthful of rancid molten iron.
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