At this moment, in Feng Mu's view, those kneeling seemed to be standing, and those standing seemed to be kneeling.
And indeed, that was the truth.
Qian Huan's arm dangled in mid-air, his neck stiffly turned as he lowered his head, and the anger on his face froze.
He could feel countless gazes around him focusing on him like fervent flames, their scorching expectations seemed to melt him.
He knew he was being seen as a lifeline, but he, he couldn't save those prison guards.
Qian Huan took a deep breath, slowly withdrew his tightly clenched fist, then slowly squatted down and reached to grab the badge that had fallen to the ground.
Zhao Xing covered his face and wept, his eyes stung with tears that he couldn't open them, yet somehow, seemingly aware, he moved a step forward on his knees, pressing the badge beneath his thigh.
