Song Heping and the Chef exchanged a glance, each seeing the same thing in the other's bloodstained, smoke-soiled face—unwillingness.
Silently, they adjusted their positions and checked the status of their weapons, preparing for the final moments.
Just like the Wagner members and government army soldiers who fought to their last breath around them.
Death was nothing more than a long sleep.
Thinking of this, Song Heping inexplicably laughed.
The Chef glanced at Song Heping and couldn't help but laugh too.
"I wonder... over at Jiang Feng's side... and with Arseny... how things are going..."
As he spoke, he gazed at the eastern sky, slowly lightening with dawn but shrouded in thick smoke, murmuring, "If... if they succeeded... and took out the enemy's stronghold... then our sacrifice... wouldn't have been in vain..."
Just as Song Heping was about to speak, a soft crawling sound reached them.
