The shock wave of the explosion was like an invisible heavy hammer, fiercely striking Haftar's chest, slamming him against the concrete wall covered in bullet holes.
"Ugh—"
The intense vibration made him vomit his dinner.
But he didn't hesitate for a moment, not even thinking, his body's instinct surpassed consciousness, rolling sideways with the force of the impact.
Bang bang bang—
Just as he rolled to the side, a few warheads hit the spot where he had just fallen against the wall; one second later, and he would be meeting Allah.
Song Heping's reaction was like a precision killing machine.
In the instant the explosion shock wave tore through the air and shattered the glass windows, his entire body was like a spring compressed to the extreme, suddenly plunging towards the thick oak desk to his rear side.
The rolling movement was fluid without a trace of redundancy, embodying the tactical evasion instincts honed by Special Forces.
