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

Iron Pillar's massive body crouched before Mad God, pressing down like a mountain.

His large, bell-like eyes were fixed on the mad god, who lay limp on the ground, blood still gushing from his limbs. His eyeballs were bloodshot, and his eyes looked as if they were about to burst.

"explain--!"

A thunderous roar echoed through the basement!

Tie Zhu raised the Vulcan cannon, its six barrels almost touching the Mad God's pale forehead. The cold touch of the metal made the Mad God's remaining consciousness tremble slightly.

"Who sent you?!"

"Which bastard faction is this?!"

"Which bastard is the inside man?!"

Every question was accompanied by Tie Zhu spitting spittle onto Kuang Shen's face.

The Mad God's jaw joint was dislocated, his mouth was weakly half-open, and saliva mixed with blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

But his eyes remained cold.

Like a frozen venomous snake.

He looked at Tie Zhu, making a muffled "hoarse" sound in his throat, and even twitched his lips into a twisted, almost mocking arc.

Tie Zhu understood.

That's an insult directed at him.

They called him an "idiot".

"fuck your mother--!!!"

Tie Zhu's rage exploded!

Without a second thought, his finger had already pulled the trigger of the Vulcan cannon—

"Da da da—!!!"

It wasn't strafing.

It was three precise bursts.

The bullet grazed the Mad God's left ear!

"Pfft—!"

His left earlobe was instantly ripped in half! Cartilage and flesh exploded! Blood spurted out like a fountain, staining half of the Mad God's face and the ground red!

"Ah—uh—!!!"

The Mad God convulsed violently, squeezing out broken screams from his throat.

But his eyes remained fixed on Tie Zhu.

"Alright."

Xiaoya's voice rang out, eerily calm.

She walked over and squatted down on the other side of the Mad God. Her usually lively eyes were now like two pieces of frozen black glass.

"The boss wants them alive."

What we need is—the information in his head.

She stared at the Mad God's face, contorted in agony, and spoke slowly and deliberately:

"Do you want to die?"

"It's not that easy."

She took a silver metal tube from her tactical pouch and unscrewed it.

Inside was a syringe and two small vials of colorless, transparent liquid.

The liquid shimmered eerily under the emergency lights.

"A high-potency psychoactive drug, codenamed 'Truth'."

Xiaoya's voice was as cold and sharp as a scalpel:

"Thirty minutes after the injection, your brain will temporarily lose its defenses."

"You will tell me everything you know."

"Then……"

She paused, a murderous glint flashing in her eyes:

"Your brain will be permanently damaged, turning you into a drooling zombie."

"This is the best punishment for you."

The needle tip is inserted into the medicine bottle to extract the liquid.

Just as the needle was about to pierce the Mad God's jugular vein—

Mad God's eyelids twitched a few times.

The pupils began to dilate.

Then, his head tilted to the side—

He completely fainted.

"Hold!"

Qi Liang cursed and walked over, kicking the limp body of the Mad God with the toe of his military boot.

He looked down at the ground again—the pool of blood that had spread into a small pond, reflecting a dark red light under the lamp.

"Fang Rong, you perverted bastard!"

Qi Liang turned and glared at Fang Rong, his voice filled with resentment:

"Couldn't you have shot a little off target?! All you know how to do is aim for vital areas!"

"I only fired one shot to the wrist! Look at you—two shots! Two shots!"

"Now look what's happened, this bird feather has fainted from blood loss! What's the point of interrogating him?!"

Fang Rong's loud voice immediately boomed:

"Damn! I was already barely managing to keep my temper in check by not blowing his head off!"

"Who knew these bird feathers would be so fragile?!"

He pointed to the pool of blood on the ground, his tone as if to say, "The tap wasn't turned off properly—some tap water spilled."

"You faint from this little bit of blood? You bastard, you still have the nerve to show your face in the underworld?!"

If the Mad God could still hear, he'd probably wake up in a rage.

After Fang Rong finished shouting, he turned his gaze to Ye Feng.

He didn't dare to complain directly—the aura of death was too cold.

But the meaning in his eyes was clear:

"You're the best shot; nobody's better than you except the boss."

"One shot to cripple his wrist would have been enough, why did you have to fire two?"

"This isn't like patching clothes, where more patches are better, is it?"

A rare, almost imperceptible hint of embarrassment flashed across Ye Feng's face.

He looked at the unconscious Mad God on the ground, then at the gun in his hand.

indeed.

I went a little too hard.

"Let's find a way to wake him up first," Ye Feng said in a low voice.

Xiaoya looked at the wounds on Kuangshen's limbs that were still bleeding, and then at the ever-growing pool of blood on the ground, and shook her head helplessly:

"He's almost bled to death. Can't you see there's enough blood on the ground to row a boat?"

"Even if I inject him with hallucinogens now, he won't last until the effects take hold."

She stood up and took out a communicator from her backpack:

"We can only call a medical team."

"If we don't give it a blood transfusion soon, this bird's feathers will really turn into a dried-up corpse."

The call was connected.

"Uncle, I'm Xiaoya."

Xiaoya's voice returned to its usual crispness, but her tone remained icy:

"The sniper who escaped has been found."

"However... he's a bit fragile."

She paused, seemingly considering her words:

"He was shot...five times? No, with the three shots Tiezhu fired later, it was eight shots."

"This guy's blood seems to be very thin; he only bled a few basins of blood before passing out."

"We need to interrogate him; we need him alive."

"So please arrange for medical personnel to come over. I've sent you the coordinates."

On the other end of the phone, Zeng Sheng held the receiver and paused for two seconds.

Found it? So fast?

He was shot eight times? And he's still alive?

How many basins of blood were spilled?

This battle-hardened general was momentarily unable to grasp the situation.

But he immediately realized:

"Okay! I'll arrange for a medical team to go there immediately!"

"You guys... protect the scene first!"

He initially wanted to say, "Give the killer battlefield first aid," but then he remembered that the person on the other end of the phone was that group of madmen who had just riddled the killer with bullets...

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he changed them to "protect the scene."

hang up the phone.

Qi Liang leaned closer, grinning mischievously:

"Xiaoya, before the medical team arrives, could you take care of these bird feathers a little?"

"roll--!"

Xiaoya let out a sharp, piercing cry, her eyes flashing with a fierce light:

"My gun is itching for a shot!"

"It's already quite good that they didn't put a few more holes in him!"

"You still want me to treat him?!"

She gritted her teeth:

"Sister Ruge is still in the operating room, her fate uncertain!"

"That bird feather—it's dead, it's dead!"

"I, the Mahjong Master, refuse to believe that I can't uncover the mastermind without his intervention!"

"Anyone who dares to mess with the boss—"

Her nails dug deeply into her palms:

"Even if I have to go without food and sleep for the rest of my life, I will find them one by one and tear them to pieces!"

Ye Feng sighed.

He knew that at this moment, the only way to "suppress" her was by using his position as the boss.

"Xiaoya." Ye Feng's voice was soft, but carried an undeniable authority:

"The boss means—we need them alive."

Xiaoya bit her lip and glared fiercely at the unconscious Mad God.

Then, with great reluctance, I pulled the hemostatic bandage out of the medical kit.

The movements were as rough as tying up a pig.

The bandages dug deep into the wound, and even in his unconscious state, Mad God continued to convulse from the excruciating pain.

"Whether you live or die is up to your own fate," Xiaoya said coldly.

At this moment, Ye Feng squatted down.

His gaze fell on the face of the Mad God.

Something feels off.

Skin texture.

Pore ​​distribution.

The subtle, unnatural rise and fall of the cheekbones.

Ye Feng reached out and gently traced the edge of the Mad God's cheek with his fingertips.

Then--

Suddenly, I pinched a seam that was almost invisible!

"Sizzle—!!!"

A highly realistic human skin mask, as thin as a cicada's wing, was completely torn off!

Under the mask—

A typical Slavic face was revealed!

High cheekbones, deep-set eyes, pale skin, a high nose bridge, and a real, old knife scar on his brow bone.

Foreign faces!

Ye Feng's gaze instantly turned icy!