On the small platform of the cliff, William set down his telescope and sighed quietly.
In such a short period of time, the first squadron of the Air Force Death Squad had been completely annihilated.
——This is not to say that they all died, there were still a few players who survived by successfully forced landings onto the sea surface, struggling to climb onto the raft or swim to the coast.
But as far as the Air Force was concerned, this squadron no longer existed.
This was within William's expectations: Wing suit flights had a very short duration of hang-time.
Even on the seaside, the gentle sea breeze could slightly increase the hang-time, but this increase was negligible.
Even though he understood this fact, seeing the densely packed members of the Death Squad dying and disappearing in quick succession, he still felt a sigh of sorrow.
Luckily, the sacrifice of these people was not in vain, and the effect had become immediately apparent——