After battling for a few minutes, if Tang Zheng couldn't even gather this much intelligence, he might as well be dead.
"There really is no such thing as a perfect weapon!" As Tang Zheng was still sighing, the Iron Tyrant began to retreat, obviously trying to resupply its ammunition. Despite being mass-produced, it was still quite expensive, and even the Steel Council, who had thrown several into the battle, felt a pang of heartache at the loss.
Tang Zheng didn't continue his attack. Instead, he flew towards what used to be the Duangang Bar. When he saw the dead soldiers scattered outside the door, he knew Du Peng was most likely dead.
"The two of them are dead." Seeing someone approach the dance floor, Yin Shangwu first raised his gun in alarm. However, recognizing Tang Zheng, he shrugged and changed the subject. "How did it go? How many bottle caps did you collect?"
