The deafening roar of artillery was like firecrackers going off—snap, crackle, BOOM—the sound shook him so much it felt like his phone was vibrating.
It was past four in the afternoon, but in Old Linzi, night had already fallen.
The General Director of the Scorching Sun Department personally gave the order to help the local military district clear out their inventory—they were having a hell of a good time.
It's all budget, right? Burn through it before year's end and you'll have new funds next year for even better gear.
Especially blasting a Demon Lair—it's been forever since they went all out like this. Those cranky old-timers, the ones with mouths tougher to control than an AK, they're the ones who joined the first sieges and still haven't retired.
"Blast it! Blast the hell out of it—don't try to save money… We need to think about public safety, right? Gotta clear out every single unstable, dangerous landmine here."
