Signal Tower
Zhang Heng floored the accelerator and drove Qiu Ming toward the spot marked by a flashing red dot on the electronic map.
That was where the tracker was currently located, and it had remained there for a long time. Unless something unexpected had happened, Mr. G should be there.
Qiu Ming sat in the passenger seat on the other side, seat belt fastened, gripping the handrail and pressing his back tightly against the seat. He had expected this operation to be exciting, but he had not expected it to be this thrilling before the fighting had even begun.
However, once Zhang Heng drove onto the main road, Qiu Ming's attention finally shifted away from the car's speed to other things.
Because their police team had taken a relatively remote route earlier, aside from encountering a group of people scouting the police's movements at the initial convenience store, they had only run into seven or eight enemies afterward. The fighting had not been particularly intense.
But this street was clearly an area Mr. G's people had heavily fortified. There was a checkpoint every hundred meters or so, with considerable armed forces stationed there to stop anyone trying to pass through.
But unfortunately, they could not stop anyone now.
Even with Qiu Ming's mental resilience, he could not help frowning at the sight along the way.
The entire street was as silent as a graveyard. Corpses lay everywhere—by the roadside, inside the checkpoints, and in nearby buildings—scattered in all directions. They were not only rioters who followed Mr. G; there were even many unarmed civilians among them. None of them were breathing anymore. Only the bullet-riddled barricades, shattered windows, and burning vehicles told of what had happened here not long ago.
"I thought my heart was hard enough. After all,