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

The aftershocks of that massive conspiracy in the capital had not yet subsided, but thousands of miles away, in another scarred land in the world, several months had quietly slipped by.

There are no distinct seasons here, only heat and sandstorms.

The air was filled with the smell of rust and gunpowder.

This is the lair of the world's strongest mercenary group, "Hellfire".

Deep within the fortress, the warehouse had been crudely altered, and the air was thick with stale air.

In the corner is the baby's "nest".

The protagonist, "Zero," lay in his "nest," his eyes strikingly black.

"Bang!" The warehouse iron door was kicked open, and Blood Butcher Baroque appeared.

He was carrying a military water bottle when he shouted:

"Dinner's ready! You little brat!" He had absolutely no concept of gentle feeding, roughly prying open the child's mouth and shoving the spout in, then gulping down the food.

The little one choked and coughed violently, milk spraying out of his nostrils, his face instantly turning red.

But he didn't cry; he just stared intently at Baroque with his dark eyes, his little hands and feet struggling due to physiological reactions.

"Tsk, can a baby choke on milk?" Baroque muttered disdainfully, wiping the child's face haphazardly with his dirty sleeve.

"Back in the day, I got deafened by a cannon blast, my guts spilled out and I stuffed them back in myself, and I still managed to change magazines with one hand and wipe out half a platoon! Is that all the grit you've got?"

As he was cursing, another voice drifted in ominously.

"Be gentle with me, or you'll ruin it. Who will try my new drug then?"

At the doorway, the light was interrupted by another figure.

The newcomer was tall and thin, like a bamboo pole, wearing a large white coat stained with unknown chemical stains.

His face was deathly pale, as if he had never seen the sun in years, and he wore glasses on his nose.

His narrow, cold eyes looked at people as if they were being examined anatomical specimens.

"Poison Doctor" Xue Yan.

Hellfire's chief medical officer and biochemical expert, capable of concocting nerve agents that can destroy villages using wild herbs, is known as the "Poison Madman."

He held a small syringe filled with dark green liquid, which was bubbling strangely.

"The latest improved version, a mixture of antibiotic-resistant superbug metabolites, theoretically can stimulate the immune system and nerve development. The side effect may be intermittent severe pain. This is a good thing I specially prepared for this kid."

Xue Yan walked up to the child, ignoring Baroque, pulled open the swaddling clothes, and plunged the needle into the baby's bottom with a practiced and outrageous motion.

Liquid is pushed in.

Almost instantly, the little guy's body tensed up like a fully drawn bow, and tiny blood vessels bulged menacingly under his skin, turning a terrifying bluish-purple color.

His mouth was open, but no sound came out; only violent, silent convulsions occurred, and his dark eyes almost rolled back to the back of his head.

Baroque stood by, arms crossed, observing the effect. Finally, he commented, "Hey, the reaction this time was more intense than last time. That's progress! Looks like it's working!"

Xue Yan recorded the data expressionlessly, as if he were making an insignificant experimental note:

"Endurance improved by 17.3%. There appear to be abnormal increases in bone density and muscle fiber. Very interesting...basic fitness is far beyond expectations."

The intense pain lasted for nearly a minute before slowly receding like a tide.

The little guy lay limp on the animal skin, his whole body soaked in cold sweat, as if he had just been pulled out of the water, with only faint breathing left.

Just then, a third person appeared.

He didn't even go through the door; he appeared silently in the shadows inside the warehouse, like a ghost.

He wore a dark combat uniform without any markings, which covered his lean, cheetah-like physique. His face was covered in solidified mud, with only his eyes showing.

Those were eyes devoid of any warmth or emotion; staring at them for too long felt like being drawn into an absolute stillness and nothingness.

"Shadow Assassin" is taciturn, Hellfire's tactical advisor and assassination master, an existence that even Baroque and Xue Yan are unwilling to easily provoke.

It is said that when he opens his mouth to speak, it is when Death calls his name.

He didn't look at the child, nor at the other two; his gaze simply swept over a few rotting fruits in the corner of the warehouse, swarming with flying insects.

The next second, several cold glints flashed.

Knock knock knock!

Three sharpened scrap iron pieces precisely pinned three flies to the wooden post behind them, their corpses intact and arranged in a perfect equilateral triangle.

His gaze then fell upon the child, who was extremely weak after just experiencing a torment.

That look wasn't like looking at a living being, but rather assessing the raw material for a weapon.

A moment of deathly silence.

Suddenly, the silence stirred.

He moved in a flash, appearing beside the animal skin as if teleporting, and with a single finger, he struck the baby's forehead with lightning speed.

That's the most instinctive starting move for a killing technique, testing reactions, and aiming straight for the vital points!

In the weakened infant, just as that finger, imbued with icy killing intent, was about to touch his skin, the instinct for survival overwhelmed everything!

He could not block, nor could he block.

Instead, she abruptly turned her head, and at the same time, a small hand grabbed at the silent man's wrist haphazardly, while her short legs kicked desperately at his arm.

The movements were haphazard and weak.

But for a baby a few months old who has just experienced a biochemical attack, this instinctive stress response to a deadly threat is nothing short of miraculous.

The silent fingers stopped half a centimeter from the center of the forehead.

A fleeting, extremely rare hint of surprise crossed his eternally unchanging, deathly gaze before it returned to its usual placid state.

He withdrew his hand, said nothing, turned around and disappeared back into the shadows, as if he had never been there.

"Ha!" Baroque burst into deafening laughter, slapping his thigh hard.

"See that?! This little brat! I've struck gold! This is instinct! The instinct of a top predator!"

Xue Yan pushed up his cracked glasses, and an eerie light flashed across the lenses:

"The nervous system responds to deadly threats with extraordinary speed. It can serve as an important reference sample for cultivating 'fear tolerance' and 'killing reflex'."

Baroque excitedly took another swig of the "milk" from the jug, then roughly shoved the rest into the child's mouth.

"Damn it! Grow up faster! Grow strong so you can take a beating, and... so you can carry a gun for me sooner!"

The little creature lay on the cold animal hide, its black eyes slowly turning, reflecting the dim, flickering light filtering through the warehouse ceiling, and the backs of three figures gradually receding, twisted like demons.

Pain, coldness, brutality, and the instantaneous deadly intent... all of these constituted his earliest and most profound understanding of this world.

There is no gentleness, no pity, only the most naked law of the jungle and the most savage survival rules.

He stuck out his little tongue and licked the remaining, fishy-smelling milk stains from the corner of his mouth.

There were still no tears in those unfathomable black eyes, only a primal, cold absorption and adaptation.

On this barren land, a lost seed is stubbornly and twistedly taking root in a way that defies all common sense.

The first cry of purgatory was silent, yet it shook the abyss.