The man in the trench coat's expression changed as he grabbed the arm of the man in the tracksuit.
He felt that something was off with the dust and smoke that spread after the door was blown open—it seemed too dense. It wasn't just dust being kicked up because he couldn't see anything inside the room.
It wasn't just dust churning in the air; there was also an unusually thick fog mixed in.
As he grabbed his subordinate's arm, the man in the trench coat was about to remind him to retreat.
The subordinate, standing at the door and turning back in surprise, suddenly shuddered as a tentacle covered in suction cups stretched out from the fog, quickly wrapping around his other arm that was holding the special firearm. A powerful force emerged, violently yanking the subordinate into the mist.
The man in the trench coat felt that he couldn't compete with that force at all and hastily let go, lunging forward and narrowly avoiding being dragged into the fog himself.
