The battle was over, and the air was filled with the faint smell of gunpowder and blood.
The guards of Water Tiger Camp were busy clearing the Battlefield, treating the wounded, moving the bodies, and recovering any guns and ammunition that could still be used.
The convoy had been caught off guard, and its casualties were heavy. Although they had won, there were no smiles on the guards' faces—only exhaustion and grimness.
They worked silently, clearing the Battlefield with meticulous care.
Since there were no professional medical personnel present, the guards could only use the methods they were familiar with to treat the wounded, including medication, stopping bleeding, bandaging, and immobilization.
They worked skillfully, doing their best to ease the wounded soldiers' pain and danger.
The guards also respectfully carried away the bodies of those who had sacrificed themselves, placed them in body bags, and loaded them into a designated vehicle to be transported back to camp for burial.
The entire street was silent, save for the sounds of the guards working.
While the Black-faced strongman was being bandaged, he saw a figure walking toward the convoy.
The person wore a cloak and had pulled up the hood. His face was hidden in shadow, impossible to see.
Only when the person approached and tossed a sniper rifle into the pile of weapons the guards had collected did he pull down his hood, revealing black hair and a Nuoxi Opera carved wooden mask.
"Mister Red Ghost!" The Black-faced strongman immediately leaped to his feet. The movement tugged at the wound on his back, making him suck in a sharp breath.
Luo Yan nodded and gestured for him to sit. "Do you know who attacked you?"
Seeing Luo Yan, the Black-faced strongman knew that the sniper who had seemed like the Grim