On the gray misty island, a group of heavily armed soldiers surrounded the vicinity of the Dark Fortress, cold-faced and highly vigilant. Everything was silent, no one spoke, and an invisible killing intent lingered in the night air. Among the crowd, Ding Yi occasionally glanced at Jackson from the Sam Country group in the periphery, recalling Ghost Hand's whispered advice before leaving. He dared not be careless, his entire body tense, his palm gripping the gun slick with cold sweat.
