In the dense forest, several figures were running hastily, their faces and necks covered with bloodstains from being scraped by branches.
"Ha, heh, haha."
Matsumoto Kiyotaka was panting heavily, his windpipe felt like it was being scorched by fire, and the saliva he secreted was like glue, clogging his throat and nearly making him gag; his legs shook uncontrollably and he almost fell to the ground.
The mountain path was too difficult to run on, with bushes and pebbles everywhere, making it easy to sprain an ankle with a single misstep.
The poise he had during the 5-kilometer run in police academy had long been worn away by the years.
Several younger ones beside him were equally exhausted, hardly able to speak. They looked towards Matsumoto Kiyotaka, waiting for instructions.
The hills on either side of Dolphin Bay rose over forty meters high, with the cliff face below roared with waves, the cliffs sharp like the cut of a knife.
