Wilson decided to wait for the Legion to fight back at the front line, then leave with them. This godforsaken Radiation Zone, let whoever likes it stay here.
He walked through an alley, suddenly pausing in his steps, his peripheral vision catching a dark shadow behind him.
A person was slowly approaching from the front.
Bearded eyes squinted slightly, his hand instinctively reaching for his waist.
"Wilson, captain of the Fire Thief Squad."
"It's your grandpa!"
He suddenly drew the energy weapon from his waist. It was a limited edition plasma pistol from the Mechanical Legion, typically owned only by majors and above. This was an advanced weapon that didn't belong in this desert.
However, the shadow moved faster.
Three minutes later, a bar waiter rushed over, dropping his pants to relieve himself.
A strong smell of blood drifted by him.
He turned his head and saw a figure sitting against the wall.
"You—"
