"Did you change to another channel?" Fang Qingyu's steady voice filled the car.
Qi Hao seemed startled awake, suddenly snapping back to reality. He looked at Fang Qingyu with a bit of panic: "Yes, Qingzi." His voice was hoarse, "It seems... a lot of people have died. The numbers of casualties in other squads keep jumping... in the B3 area... it seems even worse..."
The bewilderment and fright in his eyes hadn't yet dissipated, like a persistent shadow.
At this moment, Qin Hui, who was sitting next to Qi Hao, opened his eyes.
He didn't look at Qi Hao, his gaze was still fixed straight ahead at the rainstorm sweeping rapidly past the windshield, but his voice was low and resonant, with a hoarse, ponderous weight, as if tempered through blood and fire:
