Dantai adeptly buried the detonator into Fan Wujing's teeth.
"Brother Fan." The young armed policeman's tearful face showed, Du Ziyu also looked sorrowful, patting his subordinate's shoulder, "Come back alive."
"Why cry? He's not dead." Pang Meiqin rolled her eyes at them and said, "The more afraid of death you are, the faster you'll die. Don't just think about escaping, keep your eyes on the Buddha statue and attack at opportune moments."
Pang Meiqin shared her observations, but Fan Wujing didn't take them to heart. When it came to combat, he had more experience.
"Can I borrow your shotgun?" Ditching the micro storm brought into the Trojan Room, after inspecting the Type 03 rifle and feeling it lacked firepower, Fan Wujing turned his attention to Tang Zheng's Demon Slaying Holy Flame.
