Nine o'clock at night.
This was precisely the gap between shifts for the Fang Clan patrols.
"Leave this place to you."
Gray Dog, his face full of exhaustion, yawned. As usual, he slung his rifle over his back, went downstairs, boarded a raft, and headed for the outpost on the outskirts of the Fourth New District to relieve the watch.
They had not had an easy time lately.
The New Alliance's paratroopers seemed to have made contact with the local guerrillas, and gunfire in the eastern districts was becoming more frequent.
He could clearly feel that those guerrillas had become far more proficient in combat and much better armed than before.
Those rats used to only dare take potshots at them with pipe rifles. Now they were clutching automatic rifles and spraying them from behind windows.
Some had even started using rocket launchers...
They were impossible to guard against!
Those paratroopers had not been idle either. Besides training the guerrillas, they were planning attacks of their own, and those attacks were growing in scale by the day.
Although the Torch Church's apostles could always wipe out a batch of them now and then, more would soon emerge from elsewhere.
Gray Dog even had an illusion.
It was as though the more they fought, the more enemies there were.
With large numbers of armored units and heavy weapons transferred to the front lines, the Fang Clan was in a highly passive position when dealing with guerrilla attacks.
They had already been forced to abandon many checkpoints and sentry posts in the eastern districts, effectively losing control of that area.
Even after the patrols had been expanded to more than a hundred men, they only dared patrol there during the day.
I hope we don't run into their paratroopers today...
After jumping