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

As Zeng Long meticulously unraveled the mystery under the lamplight in his study, a forgotten, abandoned factory area on the outskirts of Beijing was shrouded in even deeper darkness and murderous intent.

A hunt codenamed "Death" has begun.

The dilapidated factory outlines, bathed in the thin moonlight, resembled the skeleton of a giant beast.

Several unmarked black vehicles were parked ghost-like in the shadows in the distance.

Lin Xiaoya sat in the passenger seat of one of the cars, with several screens in front of her displaying images of the factory interior, structural perspective scans, and sound spectrum analysis transmitted back by the robot bees.

"Brother Feng," Xiaoya's voice came through the bone conduction headphones clearly.

"Confirmed, there are three internal activities, located as follows: Point A (observer) is on guard inside the broken window on the southeast side. Point B (leader) and Point C (assault team) are in the power distribution room next to the main workshop, possibly resting or communicating."

No other electronic monitoring equipment or early warning traps were found throughout the factory area, but point A would conduct a fixed security tap communication every two minutes.

Ye Feng stood in the shadows outside the car, dressed in a pure black tactical uniform, almost blending into the night.

He did not respond, but simply raised his right hand slightly to indicate that he accepted it.

His eyes had changed—the composure that belonged to "Ye Feng" was gone, replaced by the state of a "Grim Reaper" who had completely stripped away all emotion and was left with only absolute calmness and an efficient killing instinct.

The surrounding air seemed to freeze and cool down because of him.

He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the several fully armed and tense Li Weiguo's men behind him, before finally landing on Xiaoya's face.

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable, almost ghostly decisiveness and coldness: "Action!"

"you…"

"Here."

"wait for me."

There was no explanation of the action plan, and no instructions on coordination and cooperation.

Those seven simple words were both a declaration and a command. Before he finished speaking, he took a step forward, his figure seemingly swallowed by darkness itself, instantly disappearing from everyone's sight, leaving only the faint sound of the night wind rustling through the wild grass.

Inside the factory, there are three "shadows" who are used to walking in the dark and consider themselves hunters.

Outside the factory, infiltrating is Death, the one who controls darkness and reaps shadows.

Ye Feng's actions were silent and stealthy, yet swift beyond reason.

He was not completely hidden, but moved in the darkness with an eerie rhythm that was almost "reasonable" as he moved, avoiding fragments of moonlight and taking advantage of every turn in the shadows and obstacles.

He had a thorough understanding of the information Xiaoya provided, and his goals and path were clear.

The broken window on the southeast side is the first target point.

Ye Feng crept silently along the base of the wall like a gecko, not wasting a single second observing the inside of the window.

Because he "knows" that the person inside (the observer) is there, facing outwards, focused on the external environment, and has a visual and psychological blind spot to threats coming from the side and rear of the wall.

Action plan?

Ye Feng didn't need a complicated plan at all.

For him and Team Zero, the "professional" evacuation of the three people in the 1701 corridor was full of shortcomings and compromises.

If they were to handle it, there are at least ten cleaner and more thorough ways to end the threat and erase all traces.

Therefore, he chose the most direct and time-saving path—charging ahead recklessly and achieving a quick victory.

Just as he was observing from inside the window, he seemed to hear a barely perceptible rustling sound of clothes, and his neck muscles instinctively tensed slightly. In that split second, he was about to turn his head and whisper a warning!

A dark figure had already leaped over the windowsill like a ghost, its movements fluid and effortless!

The peripheral vision from the corner of his eye barely caught a blurry outline of a dark shape before his brain's alarm bells went off, his lungs began to compress in preparation for a sound, and the muscles in his wrist holding the gun started to contract—

A cold, iron-like hand, with immense force, struck his left carotid sinus with perfect precision!

"Ugh!" A very short, muffled groan, as if choked in the throat.

The observer felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, his consciousness went out like a light bulb being turned off, and all his strength receded like a tide.

Before he collapsed, Ye Feng's other hand had already firmly supported his body, preventing any sound of him falling.

Gently placing it in the shadows under the window, Ye Feng even straightened the other's tilted headset to prevent it from falling and making a sound.

From intrusion to subjugation, the entire process took less than three seconds. Death reaped the first "shadow," and silence remained.

Ye Feng did not stop, nor did he even glance at his unconscious opponent.

He turned and disappeared back into the deeper darkness of the factory. But this time, he didn't stealthily hide—he began to run in the darkness!

His steps were as light as a cat's, yet as swift as the wind. The dilapidated workshop, the rusted equipment lying around, and the scattered debris seemed to disappear in his eyes, or rather, they formed perfect footholds and cover in his running path.

The darkness was not an obstacle; rather, it became an extension of his senses. With real-time synchronized tactical goggles as guidance, it was as if a path of light, visible only to him, had been lit in absolute darkness.

Target: The power distribution room next to the main workshop. Time window: two minutes. That's the countdown to observe the subordinate's "safety knock," and also the critical point at which the two people inside might become suspicious.

Ye Feng's figure left an almost invisible afterimage in the empty factory, rushing straight towards his target.

At the entrance to the power distribution room, Ye Feng didn't even pause to listen to the sounds inside or try to peek. He chose an almost brute-force, yet extremely efficient, method of intrusion—

The moment he reached the door, he suddenly lowered his center of gravity, bent his knees, and used the momentum of his forward movement to slide on his knees like a cannonball, smashing open the simple wooden door that was not locked and barging in!

Inside the room, the "leading youth," who had just finished editing an encrypted text message and was about to send it, and the assault soldier who was leaning against the wall checking his spare magazine, were both startled by the sudden breach of the door, their pupils shrinking in shock!

But their reaction truly lived up to the word "elite"—their muscle memory kicked in even as they were shocked!

The young man in the lead raised his gun with astonishing speed, and the heavy muzzle of the Desert Eagle locked onto Ye Feng's head at a distance of less than five meters! His index finger was about to pull the trigger!

However, he anticipated a standing, human-shaped target. Ye Feng, on the other hand, slid in close to the ground! Death's speed is faster than nerve reflexes!

It was that one second difference, which was below the usual expectation!

Ye Feng's gaze didn't even focus on the young man leading the group who was holding a gun.

His vision, like a split-screen processor, instantly captured and locked onto two sources of threat. While gliding, he unleashed a burst of power with both hands simultaneously!

A flash of cold light appeared on his left hand! A specially made military dagger flew out of his hand, not as if thrown, but more like an extension of his arm. With a sharp whistling sound, it precisely pierced the right wrist of the assault soldier who had just reached for his pistol at his waist! The blade pierced through, and blood spurted out!

"Ah—!" the assault soldier roared in pain as his weapon slipped from his grasp.

Almost at the same millisecond! Ye Feng's right hand spit out a blinding flash of light from his pistol!

A bullet tore through the air, not aimed at the leader's head or heart, but precisely pierced his right wrist joint as he pulled the trigger!

"Ouch!" A cry of pain mingled with the metallic clang of a gun hitting the ground.

In the blink of an eye, both men's wrists, which were holding guns, were crippled!

The intense pain and shock did not completely incapacitate the two men. Their extensive combat experience made them instinctively want to roll away to find cover and create distance!

But Ye Feng didn't give them any chance! Before his gliding momentum was exhausted, he suddenly braced himself with one hand, his core strength explosively contracted, and his entire body flipped over in mid-air, using the hand he was bracing himself with as the axis!

In mid-air, he twisted his waist and abdomen, unleashing a 360-degree spinning whip kick infused with all his strength. Like a steel whip, it tore through the air, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, and struck the leading youth, whose movements had been slightly sluggish due to the pain in his wrist, hard on his left temple!

"Bang!" A dull, teeth-grinding impact.

The young man's head suddenly tilted to one side, and his body flew out as if hit by a heavy truck, crashing heavily into the mottled brick wall before sliding softly to the ground, completely unconscious.

At this moment, the last target—the assault soldier whose wrist had been pierced by a dagger—was enduring excruciating pain as he tried to roll behind the abandoned electrical cabinet with one leg.

"puff!"

A bullet grazed his ear and struck the ground just before he was about to roll, sending cement debris flying.

His body stiffened.

"puff!"

Another bullet landed on his other side of the retreat path.

He was forced to stop, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

Immediately afterwards, a burning, sharp pain shot through his right thigh! The third bullet had precisely pierced his thigh muscle group, impairing his mobility but avoiding major blood vessels and bones.

"Ugh!" He groaned, fell to one knee, and could no longer move.

A cold, emotionless voice rang out above him, like the pronouncement of death:

"Move it again."

"The next one will be a head."

The assault soldier stiffly and slowly raised his head.

A cold, metallic touch came from my forehead—the temperature of the gun muzzle.

He finally saw the attacker's face clearly.

A young face, yet sculpted from millennia-old ice; eyes as deep as ancient wells, containing no joy of victory, no excitement of killing, only absolute indifference, and... a lingering chilling killing intent, not yet completely dissipated, after locking onto its prey.

Death has arrived and has completed its harvest.

The factory has returned to a deathly silence, even more so than before.

Take control of the assault troops and tie them up!

Ye Feng walked to the window and looked towards the distant woods.

The moonlight illuminated half of his profile, which remained expressionless, as if the textbook-perfect rapid assault he had just carried out in the darkness was nothing more than a routine task for him.