"Victor, just admit it, you are from the future!" In the temporary campsite of the forest resort, "Gray Shark" Porter, sitting in a wheelchair, glared at Zhou Qingfeng, his tone full of irritation.
His wheelchair was parked on a soft grassy patch, with towering pine trees behind him, their shadows mottled, and the air filled with the refreshing scent of pine resin and the dampness of the soil.
"Alright, alright, I come from the future, from more than a decade later."
Zhou Qingfeng casually brushed it off, as if coaxing a child. Yet his eyes kept moving, surveying the camp refuge constructed by "Gray Shark".
"Gray Shark" gritted his teeth in anger, but had no way to deal with him.
The scene looked like he was forcing Zhou Qingfeng to admit to something utterly preposterous, yet received no serious response in return.
Florida has not only sunny beaches, but also many lakes surrounded by dense forests.
