As the number of outsiders increased, the surrounding citizens and tourists even had to step back to make room for them.
Faced with an increasing number of outsiders, Major Cole's forces were clearly stretched thin.
The soldiers, who were originally in a semi-encircling formation, could only tighten their formation, forming a single-soldier defensive line.
Sweat dripped from Major Cole's forehead as he sensed the situation was slowly slipping out of his control.
His men weren't having an easy time either. These outsiders who came out of the white hole were extremely curious about everything here. Some even approached the soldiers and began to examine the guns in their hands.
Finally, an old man emerged from among the "outsiders".
He leaned on a cane, his beard was white, his body was hunched, and his eyes were filled with barely suppressed excitement and exhilaration.
The old man spoke rapidly as he walked toward Major Cole.
Major Cole looked at the old man, gripped his pistol tightly, and said, "Stop! Don't come any closer!"
Clemens, who had been listening intently, grabbed Major Cole's shoulder and said, "Wait a minute, I think I've heard this language before, it sounds a bit like Old English..."
As the old man walked, he reached his left hand into his pocket, as if trying to take something out.
Bang!
Just then, a shot rang out.
An extremely nervous soldier, seeing the old man reach out his hand, mistakenly thought he was about to draw his weapon and reflexively pulled the trigger.
After a burst of smoke, the old man looked at his chest in disbelief as blood gushed out, staining his clothes.
The old man collapsed and never came to life again.
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