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Faced with this situation of being at the end of the road, even the most loyal and resolute warriors in the clan couldn't help but feel a sense of despair.
Perhaps…
They truly had no way out.
In the dim concrete bunker, Gold Fang's face darkened as he looked at the map.
That was the temporary command post of the Fang Clan, and there were only 2 people present at the moment.
One was Gold Fang himself, and the other was one of his right-hand men, Fox Fang.
As a direct descendant of the Fang Clan, this slightly smaller man, though not the strongest in combat, had a sharp mind.
Since Dillon's defeat, Gold Fang could no longer trust his staff.
Fox Fang said in a low voice, "What if we ask for help from other clans... even if they send us some weapons, it would be of great help to us. Our brothers can't even get materials to repair their guns anymore."
Hearing his subordinate's suggestion, Gold Fang remained silent.
Ask for help?
Who would they ask?
The Snake Clan to the east was deeply embroiled...
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