At this moment, everything around became quiet.
Lyra Smith sat silently in her wheelchair, covered in a lambswool overcoat.
Dylan Lee stood four or five steps away from Lyra, with a gun pressed against the back of his head, and two gunmen pointing their weapons at him from the front.
The atmosphere was tense, dangerous, but also doomed to fail...
Dylan couldn't help but recognize the two men holding guns to him.
"I didn't expect you to find me like this," Dylan said calmly in the face of danger.
"Move aside," Gregory Smith muttered tersely, moving forward to kick Dylan squarely in the chest.
With a loud bang,
a muffled sound accompanied Dylan's fall.
Gregory's kick was so powerful that it almost inflicted internal injuries on Dylan.
Before Dylan could get up, a pair of military boots stepped on his chest, right where Gregory had kicked him.
The pain was unbearable.
