C311 The Supply Box Was in His Hands

In under thirty seconds, Han Feng, clutching a plank, sprinted down from the seventh floor. Bursting through the emergency exit into the blinding sunlight, he was overwhelmed with a sense of salvation.

"Move out! Move! Go, go, go!" With the plank tucked under his left arm, Han Feng's right hand cut through the air, signaling frantically.

Responding to his command