The Rise of a Special Forces Soldier Abandoned by a Wealthy Family

Zeng Long stopped in front of the bodyguard who had initially knocked the bottle away and accidentally injured Xiao Yu.

He looked down at the other man from his elevated position. The bodyguard, slumped to the ground in pain from his severed arm, was ashen-faced, his face a mixture of cold sweat and tears, his eyes filled with agony and a sliver of remaining hope.

He might still be hoping that the Wu family's name could serve as his last line of defense.

Zeng Long gave him no chance to fantasize.

He raised his hand and pointed to Zeng Lingyu, who was sitting in a chair not far away with a bandage on her forehead, and Yan Hai and others standing beside her, whose faces were still injured but whose eyes were excited.

His voice was like the Siberian wind, cold and flat, devoid of any human emotion, yet containing an unquestionable ultimate authority:

"I don't care if you crawl or walk."

"A distance of two meters."

"I'll give you two choices—"

He paused slightly, and in his deep eyes, the phantom of mountains of corpses and seas of blood seemed to flash by. The boundless killing intent was like an invisible giant net, instantly enveloping Wu Chen and the others completely, making them feel as if they had fallen into an ice cave, and even their blood almost froze.

"Kneel...or...die!"

The moment the word "death" was uttered, the bodyguard trembled violently. He instinctively cast a pleading look at his young master, Wu Chen, hoping he would say something.

However, Zeng Long paid no attention to this trivial exchange of glances.

In the face of absolute power, any background or reliance seems pale and laughable.

Zeng Long's right foot seemed to lift casually, then landed precisely and steadily—

"Crack!" The sickening sound of bone breaking rang out clearly once again!

Zeng Long's military boot soles mercilessly crushed the bodyguard's other intact wrist!

"Ah—!!!" The excruciating pain caused the bodyguard to let out a shrill, inhuman scream. His body curled up like a boiled shrimp, his face contorted in extreme agony, tears and snot streaming down his face.

Wu Chen, standing to the side, was already terrified by Zeng Long's palpable killing intent and ruthless methods. His body trembled like a leaf, his lips quivered, but he couldn't utter a single complete syllable. He was no longer the arrogant and domineering man he had been before.

Zeng Long remained expressionless, as if he had merely crushed an unsightly pebble. He repeated that cold, judgmental statement:

"Kneel...or...die."

This time, the shadow of death, the excruciating pain, and the irresistible will of that demon completely shattered the bodyguard's last shred of illusion and pitiful persistence.

The other party was an existence he could not comprehend at all; it was a god or demon that transcended the rules of the mortal world! Under the overwhelming killing intent, he even found it difficult to breathe.

The instinct for survival overwhelmed everything. He endured the excruciating pain in his arms, using his shoulders and body to support himself with great difficulty, like a wounded maggot, moving little by little, extremely slowly, until he finally crawled to a position about two meters away from Zeng Lingyu and Yan Hai.

He dared not raise his head, his hands hung limply at his sides, and his head was bowed deeply, as if he wanted to bury himself in the ground.

Then, under the silent gaze of everyone, his knees, filled with endless humiliation and fear, slowly bent, and finally—

"Thump!" With a muffled sound, his knee slammed heavily onto the cold, hard marble floor.

This humiliating submission has been completed.

Zeng Long didn't look at the bodyguard again. His gaze swept over the other three bodyguards, who had woken up but were seriously injured and looked terrified, like a moving searchlight.

The same condescending tone, the same unquestionable authority, the same flat tone:

"Kneel...or...die!"

Seeing their companion's miserable state and feeling the murderous intent that almost froze their souls, the three bodyguards no longer hesitated.

Struggling, he scrambled to the first bodyguard's side and, mimicking his movements, knelt down heavily, filled with pain and fear.

Then, Zeng Long's gaze shifted to his core targets—Wu Chen, Liu Sheng, He Ziming, and the few teenagers who had grudges against Yan Hai and were now deathly pale. He uttered the same sentence calmly, like a broken record, yet it carried immense pressure: "Kneel...or...die!"

As Wu Chen was swept over by that gaze, his remaining pride and the false confidence bestowed upon him by his family spurred him to make a final struggle. He mustered all his strength, his voice shrill and distorted with fear:

"You...do you know who we are?! The Wu family, the Liu family, the He family...we, the major families, will unite to ensure you die a horrible death!!"

However, Zeng Long's response was—action.

He seemed not to hear the weak and feeble threat at all, and walked steadily to Wu Chen.

Under Wu Chen's horrified gaze, the hand that had just grabbed his neck reached out again, gripping his throat with the precision of an iron clamp, and easily lifting him off the ground!

Zeng Long's icy gaze was fixed on Wu Chen's face, which was flushed and contorted with fear and lack of oxygen. His voice was as cold as ice:

"I don't care how powerful your family background is or how noble your status is."

"To me, they are all ants."

"As I just said, if I want to kill someone, even God can't save them."

"I said it!"