The Plight of the Wounded
They weren't unarmed. In theory, the rescue team trapped below was a group of bona fide superhumans.
And they were well prepared.
What's more, they had ulterior motives.
As everyone knew, people with crooked thoughts tended to think a lot. Fu Qian found it impossible to believe that Old Master Huang and the others hadn't anticipated the dangers they might face.
Though he found it just as impossible to believe they'd anticipated the full extent of the danger before them.
So, as soon as he came in, Fu Qian had been able to picture the scene: the trapped team struggling to survive with methods and tools they'd prepared in advance, but that weren't quite up to the task.
Like the one before him.
There were six of them in all. Old Master Huang wasn't there, but one face was familiar, as was one aura.
The familiar face even bore some resemblance to Old Master Huang's. It was Huang Lezhan, who'd helped attack Fu Qian before.
If he remembered correctly, Huang Lezhan was even stronger than Old Master Huang Huang Leji, and was almost the strongest in the Xiyuan Huang Clan, second only to Blood Lion, who'd left the family.
The top fighter, who'd originally been standing to one side supervising the work, was clearly the first to notice Fu Qian. The look he gave him now was unmistakably hostile.
Of course, that heartfelt attention went unreturned. Fu Qian didn't even look at him. Instead, his gaze settled on the familiar aura.
A slender figure in blue-green clothes, with a pointed chin that was easy to remember.
The only lady in the team, and the only other person supervising besides Old Master Huang Huang Lezhan, was now looking at him with a gaze almost as stern