He spoke while looking around, his voice carrying a hint of uncontrollable questioning and sarcasm.
"Look at this place, look at this town! Can you still see any of your comrades? Even a corpse in a military uniform?"
Isam's face instantly lost its color, his lips trembling, eyes filled with embarrassment, pain, and a deep bewilderment.
He obviously figured out what happened—his proud army, the government to which he pledged allegiance, faced with the enemy, chose to disgracefully retreat.
He shook his head with difficulty, his voice dry and hoarse: "There... should be... here... but..."
Song Heping sighed.
There's really no need to ask too much.
After all, it's not his war, it's someone else's war, can't get carried away.
Moreover, it's not Isam's personal fault, it's the decay of the entire rotten system.
He patted Isam on the shoulder, the force not heavy, carrying the comfort of a veteran to a junior: "Forget it, Isam. It's not your fault."
