At dawn, the heavy rain that had poured all night turned into a drizzle.
The sky was a profound darkness, pitch-black and without a glimmer of light.
Mo Shangjun lay motionless in a mound of grass, perfectly concealed and hidden. At a glance, only a patch of withered grass and fallen leaves could be seen, with no trace of human presence.
Through her night vision scope, she kept watch on the narrow path ahead.
Knowing the route made it easier to set up an ambush.
To reach the second point, one would have to climb over this hillside, and this place was treacherous with only this barely passable road; the rest were either steep slopes, cliffs, or woods overgrown with weeds, prone to accidents.
In short, the squad Mo Shangjun was waiting for had to pass this way.
Only a fool would choose another path—and there was no need to worry; they were all dead ends anyway.
