The Pale Protocol
"You're holding it wrong, Luo. You’re holding it like it’s a grenade, not a brick." Colonel Zhang’s voice was dry, stripped of any warmth, and it cut through the howling wind that scoured the mountain path with the precision of a blade. Lei Luo tightened his grip on the pack straps, the leather biting into his shoulders, and kept his eyes fixed on the swirling grey dust ahead. He did not look...
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