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

Just as Xiaoya received Zeng Long's instructions to escort Wang Guangtou away.

Two swift, precise, and ruthless operations are unfolding simultaneously.

Target: The other two triad bosses directly involved in beating Shi Qinglie to death – “Scarface Liu” and “Blackie”.

Executors: Elite trainees, working in groups.

Location 1: A private room on the top floor of a luxury bathhouse in the county town.

"Scarface Liu" was still asleep, enjoying the company of two women.

"Bang!"

The heavy solid wood door wasn't pushed open; instead, it was kicked off the frame by a tremendous force and collapsed inwards with a crash!

Before the sawdust had even settled, several figures in black had already slipped in like ghosts!

"Who goes there?!" Seven or eight thugs outside the private room jumped up in surprise, instinctively reaching for the machetes and steel pipes hidden in the corner.

The answer they received was not words, but a blow delivered with incredible speed!

"Crack!" The first thug who rushed up had his wrist snapped cleanly with a reverse joint lock, and his machete fell to the ground.

"Bang!" With a side kick, the second thug was sent flying backward with a cracking sound as if hit by a truck, his ribs breaking and shattering the glass coffee table.

"Ugh!" The third one was precisely chopped in the side of the neck with a chop, and collapsed without even uttering a sound.

There were no gunshots, only the muffled thuds of flesh colliding, the crisp cracking of bones breaking, and short, piercing screams.

Their movements were clean, sharp, and efficient, each move aimed directly at the vital points, yet deliberately avoided fatal blows—they wanted prisoners alive, but only prisoners who had lost all ability to resist and were suffering immense pain.

"Scarface Liu" was startled awake, his scar on his face contorted with fear. He abruptly pulled a homemade flintlock pistol from under the bed, but before he could even raise it—

"Whoosh!"

A dark shadow flashed by, and a piercing pain shot through his wrist holding the gun! The musket slipped from his grasp, and his entire arm bent backward at an unnatural angle!

A foot clad in a combat boot stomped heavily on his face, crushing his screams into the expensive Persian carpet.

"Target one, captured." A cold report came through the miniature headset.

Location 2: Illegal sand and gravel pits in the suburbs.

"Blackie" was surrounded by a group of henchmen, cursing and directing the vehicles.

Suddenly, screams erupted from the gravel pit, as a gatekeeper's henchman cried out in agony.

"What's going on?!" Blackie turned around alertly.

Several figures, like bats, appeared silently from the wall, from the top of the material pile, and from the gate!

"Grab your weapons!" Blackie roared.

However, their reaction speed was as slow as a slow-motion video compared to the elite trainees.

"Whoosh—snap!" A tactical noose with barbs flew through the air, precisely ensnaring the neck of a henchman wielding a steel pipe. With a sharp pull, the man's feet left the ground, and he suffocated and rolled.

Then came a one-sided crushing defeat!

These thugs, who usually bullied and oppressed the villagers, were now facing a killing machine that had truly crawled out of hellish training. Their fists, kicks, and clubs seemed laughable and powerless.

The elites worked in groups of three, their teamwork as seamless as a single entity. Grappling, joint locks, and powerful blows to vital points… with each strike, one of them would fall to the ground screaming, clutching their twisted limbs and wailing in agony.

The man with the broken leg rolled around, clutching his protruding calf.

The man with the severed arm screamed in agony as he looked at his unnaturally bent arm.

The man, bleeding from a head wound, lay on the ground, groaning in a daze.

The gravel pit was transformed into a living hell in an instant. The stench of blood mixed with the smell of dust permeated the cold air.

"Blackie" tried to run, but a tactical crossbow bolt that was fired with precision pierced his calf and pinned him to the ground!

An elite soldier stepped forward and dragged him to the center of the open space like a dead dog.

"Target two, and its key members, capture them."

---

It was exactly 10:00 AM.

Several SUVs met up with the convoy that Xiaoya was escorting Wang Guangtou at the designated location.

The car door opened, and the elite trainees got off the vehicle nimbly, handing over "Scarface Liu" and "Blackie," who looked like scum, along with more than a dozen other thugs who were also injured and pale-faced.

Xiaoya glanced at it and nodded expressionlessly.

The elites didn't waste any words, nor did they linger. The handover was completed in an instant, and they quickly dispersed, boarding different vehicles, engines roaring, disappearing once again into the intricate road network of the county town like drops of ink in water.

They also have a mission—a mission in secret.

Monitor the movements of all "protective umbrellas" who may be involved in the Wang Guangtou case.

To gather more covert evidence.

Be prepared for any possible "silencing" or "accident".

This is Zeng Long's style—a dual narrative, both overt and covert, with layers of intricate plotting. Overtly, there's the military, the special task force, and Xiao Ya and Tang Long's "violent law enforcement"; covertly, there are these elusive ghosts, ensuring that no variable can escape control.

And deeper still, there is an ultimate safety net that even Zeng Long is reluctant to use—

Death God, Ye Feng.

His "Shadow" organization, with several top assassins, is still on its way, but they have already locked onto that long list.

Once things slide into the most uncontrollable abyss, and do not develop according to the desired path.

Once Tiezhu is driven to a dead end... then many people on the list will disappear from this world silently in various "reasonable accidents".

Zeng Long would never allow his brother to walk down that cliff of despair. To this end, he would stop at nothing, including... the darkest of all means.

It's 10:30 AM. At the entrance of Shijiagou Village.

The deep, powerful roar of propellers tore through the sky once more, growing louder as it approached!

The villagers and the visitors from other places who had come after hearing the news had just recovered from the shock of the army and the luxury cars, and at this moment they all looked up at the source of the sound.

A massive armed transport helicopter, painted in camouflage, soared through the clouds like a giant steel eagle, slowly descending with unparalleled momentum!

"Whoosh—boom boom boom—!"

The wind whipped up by the propeller bent the wild grass, made the white banners in the mourning hall flutter wildly, and made it almost impossible for people to open their eyes.

The helicopter landed smoothly on the cleared area at the entrance of the village, which had been cleared by soldiers.

The hatch slid open.

Tang Long and Xiao Ya were the first to jump. Their expressions were cold and stern.

Immediately afterwards, several soldiers dragged three blood-soaked, disheveled men, who looked like dead dogs, and roughly threw them onto the open ground under the helicopter!

"hiss--!"

When the faces of the three people were seen, a huge gasp of shock erupted from the crowd, followed by a deathly silence, and then an uncontrollable commotion, like the calm before a volcanic eruption!

"It's Bald Wang! It really is him! That bastard!"

"My God! That's 'Scarface Liu' over there! And that's 'Blackie'! They're the most vicious bullies in the county!"

"What happened to them? They were beaten so badly!"

"Retribution! It really is retribution!! Heaven has opened its eyes!!"

Shock, exhilaration, fear, disbelief... a variety of emotions collided and spread wildly among the crowd.

The soldiers quickly formed a human wall to separate the crowd. Tang Long and Xiao Ya, like the Grim Reapers escorting offerings, personally dragged Wang Guangtou and the other two step by step toward the mourning hall where white banners fluttered and incense smoke wafted.

In front of the mourning hall, Zeng Long, Ye Feng, and Fang Rong had already been standing quietly waiting.

As Xiaoya and Tanglong approached with the person in their arms, the five people—Zeng Long, Ye Feng, Fang Rong, Xiaoya, and Tang Long—gathered together.

There was no verbal communication.

But the five people, whose long-suppressed killing intent and icy rage were now unleashed without restraint, erupted like five volcanoes that had been unsealed in an instant!

The air, centered on them, suddenly became thick, cold, and as if it had solidified!

That wasn't just simple anger; it was a tangible, malevolent aura forged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, condensed from the wails of countless dead souls!

Wang Guangtou, Dao Ba Liu, and Hei Pi were struck head-on by this terrifying aura that seemed to have a tangible presence!

Their usual bullying and cowardly nature, their fierce and aggressive nature, was as fragile as a candle flame in a storm in the face of this murderous intent born purely for destruction!

"Splash!" "Splash!" "Splash!"

Almost simultaneously, the three of them collapsed to the ground, their legs buckling as if all their bones had been removed, their bodies slumped like mud, dark stains quickly spreading from their crotches—they had wet themselves in fear.

Tang Long stepped forward expressionlessly, grabbed Wang Guangtou by the fat on the back of his neck, lifted him up like a pig to be slaughtered, and then slammed him down hard in front of Shi Qinglie's coffin!

"Bang!!!"

Wang Guangtou's kneecap slammed solidly and without any cushioning onto the hard, cold ground!

The excruciating pain caused him to let out a scream that sounded inhuman, but it was mostly boundless fear that made him suppress even the scream, turning it into a strange "hoarse" sound.

Fang Rong and Ye Feng acted in sync, like mirror images.

Fang Rong picked up "Scarface Liu," and Ye Feng picked up "Blackie."

"Bang! Bang!"

Two more heavy, muffled thuds that sent chills down your spine!

The three main culprits were forced to kneel before Shi Qinglie's coffin in the most humiliating and painful posture!

Tang Long drew his pistol from his waist, cocked it with a "click," and pressed the cold muzzle against the still-bleeding back of Wang Guangtou's head.

His voice was not loud, eerily calm, yet every word was like an ice spike, piercing into the souls of the three murderers:

"Kneel properly."

"You didn't kneel properly..."

"The bullet in my gun might accidentally... pierce your head."

"It might even burrow into your internal organs..."

"Or, break the bones in your limbs."

"You can give it a try."

The three men, including Wang Guangtou, froze instantly like puppets, barely daring to tremble. They desperately endured the excruciating pain, maintaining their kneeling posture, cold sweat and blood mingling and streaming down their cheeks and necks.

The other dozen or so gang leaders who had been captured were forced by soldiers to kneel on an open ground further away from the mourning hall.

This is not kindness.

This was a deliberate arrangement by Zeng Long.

These lackeys are unworthy to approach Uncle Shi's spirit tablet. Let them kneel on the perimeter, exposed to the eyes of thousands of villagers.

Their fear and their disarray are a silent declaration to the victims, and also a catalyst.

What Zeng Long wanted was to punish these people who were usually oppressed by them and dared not speak out against their anger.

Witnessing the fate of bullies firsthand ignites their long-suppressed anger, emboldening them to stand up, expose, and denounce them!

He wants every crime committed by these murderers to be exposed to the light of day! He wants them to be crushed to pieces by the combined force of the overwhelming wrath of public opinion and the iron fist of the law!

"ah--!!!"

A hoarse, grief-stricken scream suddenly shattered the deathly silence in front of the mourning hall!

It's a small pomegranate!

Like a small, wounded animal that had been thoroughly enraged, she suddenly pounced on the kneeling bald man, Wang!

She had no weapons, only a pair of thin, rough hands from long hours of labor.

With all her might, she clenched her fists and pounded the ground against Wang Guangtou's fat, filthy body! One punch! One punch! And another!

Why?!

"Why are you all so heartless?!"

She pounded on the wound frantically, tilting her tear-streaked face upwards and letting out a blood-curdling cry:

"My dad!! Beat my dad to death!!!"

"Why?! Why?!"

"Give me back my loving father!! Give me back my protective father—!!!"

Each punch carries the endless grief of a daughter who has lost a father as great as a mountain!

Every cry and scream tore at the heart of everyone present who still had a conscience!

Li Yingxiu cried out and tried to rush over to hug her daughter, but was held back tightly by the woman next to her, and could only cover her face and weep bitterly.

Among the onlookers, countless people had tears in their eyes, gritted their teeth, and cursed under their breath, while many more couldn't help but wipe away tears.

At the very front of the mourning hall, next to the brazier.

Tie Zhu remained with his back to all of this.

His broad, mountain-like back, draped in hemp clothing, knelt upright, yet seemed to bear an immense weight, trembling slightly and uncontrollably.

His hands, steady and firm, gently placed one sheet of yellow paper after another into the burning brazier.

The flames shot up with a "whoosh," greedily devouring the paper money, transforming into fluttering black butterflies and warm orange light, illuminating his angular profile, which was expressionless at the moment.

The paper money turned to ashes, just like his father's ordinary yet tragic life, and also like something dying within him.

He dared not turn around.

He was afraid that if he turned around, he would see his sister's heart-wrenching cries, and those three kneeling beasts...

He feared that the vengeful beast within him, tightly bound by the chains of "reason," would break free from all restraints in an instant!

He could only kneel here, using this action he had repeated countless times to send off his father, to fight against the hatred and pain that was almost tearing his soul apart.

The firelight flickered.

Ashes swirled.

Before the mourning hall, the murderer knelt in terror, the young girl beat him with tears of blood, and the filial son silently burned paper money.

A storm has already placed its offerings on the altar.

The real trial and bloodshed have already begun.