Inside an abandoned warehouse, it was completely dark with a faint moldy smell.
Click, a metal lighter flicked open, a small flame dispelled part of the darkness, illuminating a man's face.
The cigarette was lit, and the tobacco smell gradually permeated the warehouse.
"Stiyl, smoking is harmful to health, take care of yourself, you're still young."
A female voice sounded.
"So what, before I die of lung disease, I might already have died in battle, maybe not long from now."
Stiyl sneered self-mockingly, he lit the cigarette to cover the bloody smell in the warehouse and his heart, which felt like it had been pierced by a dagger. He vaguely sensed something was wrong, not from the enemy, but from his own side.
The man and woman in the warehouse remained silent, a pin drop could be heard, deathly silence.
Si Si~
