"Choose your course, young man. Either yield to our authority or face immediate execution." The proclamation echoed with authority from atop the ten-meter-high walls of the government shelter, a voice commanding and domineering.
Simultaneously, as if defying the force of gravity, Jin's entire being bore down, leaving a discernible crack in the cement wall beneath his feet.
Bathed in the glow of the Blood Moon's crimson eyes, the walls framed several soldiers, their light machine guns trained on Jin. General Sun Lian and General Wei Chen stood observing Jin behind the soldiers' encirclement.
Behind them, important figures observed the scene with mixed reactions. Some eyed Jin with a mix of anticipation and audacity, shamelessly surveying him with trembling hands, conveying a disturbing desire to witness his torment.
Others cast greedy glances, their focus not on Jin but on the Blood Rifle in his grasp.