As the jeep followed the road illuminated by the yellow car headlights in the deep night, it drove toward the southeast area of the city filled with abandoned buildings.
Long Yuehong's heart involuntarily palpitated. Although he was no longer considered a rookie in the Ashlands, this was his first time directly going to the front line.
This was different from the riot in Weed City. It could barely be considered a formal battle.
Just as Long Yuehong quietly took deep breaths to calm his nerves, Shang Jianyao held the steering wheel with one hand and took out the small, black speaker with a blue bottom from his tactical backpack with the other.
After pressing it a few times, a passionate melody echoed in the jeep.
The music this time wasn't mixed with human voices, but it made Long Yuehong's blood boil. It was as if he had become a lone hero about to fight 100 people alone.