Song Heping walked up to Brody, reached out, and took the weapon from him.
"Are you Brody?"
"I... don't know you..."
"My name is Song, Song Heping."
Song Heping pointed to himself.
"Your target this time."
Brody wanted to speak, but a mouthful of blood surged up again.
Song Heping looked at him, frowned, and asked, "Do you want me to help you?"
Brody wanted to say "yes," but blood surged up uncontrollably again.
Now he was beginning to feel like he was drowning.
His internal organs ruptured, causing blood to flow everywhere like a sewage outburst.
The problem is, death is estimated to be a little while away.
Not long, but very uncomfortable.
He understood what Song Heping meant.
The person in front of him wanted to help him go with dignity.
To let him die a bit more comfortably.
On the battlefield, this is mercy.
He nodded with effort, as if pleading.
Song Heping didn't linger, drew a gun, aimed at his frontal lobe, and fired the bullet downward.
