Early morning, three o'clock.
Mo Shangjun sat inside a military truck, enjoying a warm self-heating meal.
The light inside the truck was dim, but it was sufficient for her to see what she was eating.
Compared to the usual military foods like biscuits and chocolate during training, a bowl of self-heating rice was indeed a rare treat—after all, actions typically require attention to anti-infrared setups, but now those trainees awaiting evaluation didn't even have a gun in their hands, let alone other equipment, and they didn't have enough time to even run when they saw a military truck.
"Officer, how many did you take down?"
The driver yawned and asked Mo Shangjun, who was seated in the back.
The driver was alone in the truck—he was delivering a patrol unit. Even in the dead of night, he had to make sure that group didn't get proper rest, turning them into startled birds.
