Song Heping, dragging the nearly mentally collapsed prince like a dead dog, suddenly burst through the room door and entered the corridor on the 28th floor.
The corridor was already in chaos. Guests who heard the gunfire and explosions peeked out in horror, and upon seeing Song Heping with an MP7 submachine gun still emitting the smell of gunpowder and the filthy, despondent Zayed, they shrank back into their rooms like frightened rabbits, followed by the sound of doors being rapidly locked and suppressed screams.
The hotel alarm blared mournfully, adding to the chaos.
"Damn it!"
Song Heping cursed under his breath, knowing their cover was completely blown.
His hearing was excellent, and he could clearly hear rapid and heavy footsteps coming from the stairwell above, quickly closing in! The killers had figured it out!
"Get up! If you want to live, run on your own!"
Song Heping growled at the groggy Zayed as he viciously pinched his arm.
