"Use your brain, will you? Trojan gathered everyone here, clearly not for a team battle. Buddha Mother is the real target." A bold voice rang out, filled with openness and cheerfulness. "The scenery's nice. Hurry up and set up a campfire, take a rest!"
"Who is he?"
The question was inevitable. Vasily's appearance instantly drew everyone's attention. A man like him is akin to a comet—wherever he goes, the world's gaze follows.
Vasily, the old soldier, still sported his usual attire: a mud- and alcohol-stained Soviet-era military uniform, layered with a green military coat. Through the open collar, one could see the striped blue sailor's shirt beneath.
"Yo, Bingxu, long time no see. Your complexion still looks good." Vasily took off the paratrooper's hat on his head, tucked it beneath his shoulder patch, and walked toward Bingxu.
