Upon hearing Tang Zheng's words, the dim-witted Zhang Yan surprisingly put down her canned food and stood up, intending to move closer to the window for a look. But the stern look in Tang Zheng's eyes in the next second made her sit back down.
"Stay still." Tang Zheng warned as he drew in his head to start devising strategies.
The presence of the handheld radar made all surprise attacks by the players impossible. Moreover, at this stage of the game, every surviving player had probably killed at least one opponent and earned spoils of war. Praying that the enemy's radar was out of power seemed unreliable. Thus, the only route left was a contest of bravery when enemies cross paths.
"I hate such brute force fights that lack skill." A few seconds later, Tang Zheng grumbled, lifted his head, and with just one eye peeking from the dilapidated window, began to monitor the enemy's movements.
