Han Feng's vision went black, and he felt as if all the strength had been drained from his body.
He glanced at his Qi Blood Value; it had already dropped to a single digit.
Without hesitation, he grabbed two Recovery Potions from his storage compartment, twisted off the caps, and poured them down his throat.
The cool liquid flowed down his throat, transforming into a warm current that replenished his depleted meridians.
He pushed open the cockpit door and leaped down from the cockpit, which was over three meters high, landing steadily on his feet.
"Han Feng! Are you okay?"
Zhang Hao was the first to rush over.
"I'm fine."
Han Feng waved his hand, his gaze quickly sweeping across the tarmac.
"Whose plane still has ammunition, is loaded with missiles, and is closest to the runway?"
Everyone subconsciously looked toward a spot not far away.
There, Gu Yun's "Alice" was parked quietly.
