"Is that so?" Luo'er looked at Tangmo and asked.
"Um..." Tangmo nodded deeply, his head bowed in frustration.
"You..." Luo'er sighed, at a loss for words.
Just as he was about to continue, a sudden burst of gunfire shattered the tranquility of the forest. Hu Daoke was so frightened that he shuddered and plunged face-first into his dinner plate, his face smeared with mashed potatoes.
As a modern military unit, the Advance Team instinctively ducked at the sound of gunfire and started searching for their weapons, which were set aside.
Luo'er grabbed his Type 47 stockless rifle, knelt on the ground, swiftly flicked off the safety, and cocked the rifle while loudly calling into the air, "Fula, Fula, recon the target!"
"Received!" He was reassured by Fulajie'er's voice in his mind.
"Where did the sound come from?" Cheng Ziang, kneeling on the ground with a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other, asked aloud.
