Deep beneath G-03 Core Floating Island.
With a muffled hiss of hydraulics, a heavy alloy gate slid apart.
Bone-chilling air and roiling white mist flooded out.
This place looked less like a base and more like a giant morgue.
Han Feng strode into the dead-silent space, single-handedly dragging two bodies that were as limp as ragdolls.
The big shots who had been calling the shots outside were now like two spineless, dead dogs, leaving two glaring trails of blood as they were dragged across the marble floor.
THUD.
Han Feng flung them aside with a flick of his wrist.
The two men crashed heavily against the metal base of the main console, the sound of shattering bones echoing through the vast, empty hall.
The searing pain caused the unconscious Sun Changhe to convulse violently, a ragged gasp like a broken bellows escaping his throat.
He struggled to open his eyes, his vision a blur.
