Lin Xian was somewhat silent when Zhou Jin's voice came through the communicator
"Captain Lin, we're almost there. Everyone put on your power armor masks. Let's assess the situation before taking action."
"Got it."
The convoy of dozens drove into a cluster of large, bustling buildings. The convoy slowly crossed the border into the Galagher Black Market, and the roar of engines was drowned in the noisy crowd.
Looking around, the entire area resembled a massive beehive, with countless survivor caravans crowded onto narrow streets. Tents, modified trucks, and rusty armored vehicles were piled haphazardly together, like a maze cobbled from metal and despair. The air was thick with the acrid smell of poor-quality fuel and the sour stench of rotting food.
