The rainstorm poured down relentlessly, as if trying to wash away the injustices of the world. In the pitch-black forest, even the tall and dense trees couldn't withstand the onslaught of the rain, branches drooping and leaves falling, carried down the mountain into the gorge by the torrent, making a loud rustling sound.
In the forest so dark that one couldn't see their hand in front of their face, they relied entirely on flashlights for illumination, though the weak light didn't reach far. Luo Zheng wiped the rain from his face, but it quickly blinded him again, his mood heavy. If only his comrades were present, he wouldn't worry about surviving a stormy night, but here were untrained doctors, both young and old, who couldn't possibly survive in such conditions.
"We can't go any further." Ghost Hand approached Luo Zheng and said in a low voice.
