The rainwater accumulated on the asphalt was shattered by a speeding truck, splashing muddy droplets into the air, reflecting the silhouette of a white cold chain vehicle.
The paint on the side of the truck reading "Frozen Fish Express" had peeled off, making it look particularly worn.
The interior of the cargo hold was a different scene altogether.
Nine fully armed combat operatives sat cross-legged in a meditative posture on the shock-absorbing floor, their breathing synchronized like precision instruments.
With their long, deep breaths, the black corpse spots on their faces appeared and disappeared, like some ancient curse moving beneath their skin.
The night vision goggles on their helmets emitted an eerie green glow, illuminating a coffin-like metallic cabinet in the center—its surface covered with honeycomb-like ventilation holes, currently spewing out cold white mist.
"Beep—"
