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Mist whispered, "Don't look at him."
Song Heping kept his eyes forward and continued to drive the donkey, "I know."
"He seems to be following us..." Mist cursed under his breath, "FUCK!"
Indeed, before the words were even finished, they heard a gruff voice from behind, "The donkey cart up ahead, stop!"
"Do we stop?" Mist asked while his hand slipped into his robe, touching the grip of the P226 handgun and flipping off the safety.
Song Heping didn't say a word; he had to make a decision in the shortest time possible.
Stop.
Or not?
He even had to estimate the other party's endurance.
Under what circumstances, he would fire.
The distance between them was less than twenty meters.
At this distance, if they retaliated, there would be no problem in taking down the other party.
The question was whether there would be accomplices of armed militants around...
"Dammit!"
Song Heping cursed to himself, then lashed the left side of the donkey with the whip.