"Deputy Commander Hong, deploy helicopters immediately for a full reconnaissance of the Yilin Mountains. Be ready to provide fire support and seal off key entry and exit points. This isn't just about two fugitive agents—it's bigger."
With Knife's orders, the capital military district's leaders dispersed to execute their roles. Knife was in charge, and their forces were merely support. They'd stick to their duties and avoid prying into classified details.
The district's brass weren't fools. Deploying Knife meant the stolen files were critical.
At the Yilin Mountains' entrance, Cold Wind and his eight-man team were in position, equipped with cutting-edge radios and UV-sighted automatic rifles. In this dense jungle, extra gear was useless. Glancing at Hua Yunyue, Cold Wind's stoic face softened with a flicker of warmth.
Though a peripheral member, never part of direct ops, Hua Yunyue had her own codename: Moon, from the last character of her name.
"Moon, stick close to me," Cold Wind commanded, scanning the team. "Split into four groups, stay within 500 meters. Report any suspicious activity immediately. Understood?" His voice was sharp. Killing was second nature to them, and Knife's order was clear: no mercy. Recover the files—whether the two foreign agents lived or died was secondary.
Hua Yunyue, like the others, acknowledged and moved out, staying tight on Cold Wind's heels.
Cold Wind was one of Knife's eight squad leaders, a true disciple. Even Wu Xiaomin was just an informal student, coached briefly due to family ties but not fully trained. Among the eight, Cold Wind was the youngest—and Hua Yunyue's most ardent suitor. Sadly, she felt little for him.
As Hua Yunyue suspected, the mountains' outer perimeter was trashed, erasing the agents' tracks. Cold Wind, meticulous, pressed forward while analyzing clues. Unbeknownst to him, elite operatives from several nations had already infiltrated the jungle.
The most formidable was a unit dubbed "Flying Bird," led by Lian Si, the "International Eagle," king of mercenaries. Beside him stood a hulking bald man in sunglasses, coldly eyeing the ragtag group around them.
Lian Si, in his mid-forties, looked scholarly and mild, devoid of menace—a stark contrast to the vicious figures beside him. He'd pass for a trustworthy gentleman. But as he stepped forward, his voice cut through.
"You come from different nations, but we share one mission: seize those files. Any resistance, from any country, we eliminate. I trust you're capable. Three hundred million dollars says you'll risk your lives. Follow my orders—no exceptions."
Lian Si asserted dominance, irking the infamous rogues around him. A turbaned American, dressed like a cowboy, sneered, "Eagle, we're on the same job, but I don't take orders from you. We'll each grab the prize our way. If you're just spouting nonsense, I'm out—wasting my time."
As he turned to leave, the bald man fired. His bulky frame belied his speed—nobody saw where the gun came from, but the shot rang out. The American, no slouch, dodged like lightning, leaping skyward.
Dual pistols in hand, he fired three shots, but a shadow flickered. A scream pierced the air as he plummeted, not from a bullet but from Lian Si's dagger, which had sliced his throat. The Eagle's speed, befitting a mercenary king, was terrifying. In a blink, he'd silenced the dissenter.
Blood dripped from his hand as he scanned the group coldly. "Disunity means failure. Any objections now?"
His brutal display united the cutthroats. With money on the line, the sharpest blade would win.
Beyond Lian Si's crew, others lurked in the jungle—not all after the files. Some aimed to stir chaos for their own gain. The Yilin Mountains buzzed with activity.
Deep within, Lei Zhengyang sensed something amiss. Sporadic gunfire echoed—not hunters' shots, but the sound of deadly clashes.
"Zhengyang, something's wrong," Lei Qiuping said, despite basking in his honeymoon glow. "There are others out here." Last night, he'd sensed movement, but when he investigated, the figure vanished.
"Yeah, I feel it too," Wu Xiaomin added, her face radiant despite the grueling training. Qiuping's doting ensured she got the best game, keeping her well-fed.
Qiuping, smug, had quipped that she ate his catches by day, and he "ate" her by night. Out here, free from society's constraints, his roguish charm worked wonders. Just days ago, he'd fully won over his future wife.
Lei frowned. The team had progressed leaps and bounds—especially captains like Luo Tiezhu, who'd unlocked true qi. With time running short, he didn't want trouble now.
For safety, Lei decided to regroup. "Third Uncle, round up the teams. Gather the three nearby squads today. Strength in numbers—no more splitting up. Something's off."
Qiuping and Wu nodded. Safety first.
As they left, Lei felt an eerie stillness, like a breeze carrying an invasive chill. Whirling, he barked, "Who's there? Show yourself!"
Qiuping or Wu might've missed it, but Lei's senses were razor-sharp. With a shout, he flashed forward, palm slicing like a blade, infused with Golden Dragon power, hacking through a cluster of bushes. Leaves scattered as two figures burst out.
"Don't kill us!" A man and woman, both in their late twenties, emerged. The woman, a sultry blonde—likely Western—was striking, her golden hair framing a pretty face.
Her allure came from her disheveled state. Her tattered dress hung in strips, barely clinging to her waist. Each step flashed long, pale legs and a glimpse of red underwear. Trembling, she stammered, "Please, don't kill us. We're not bad people."
Lei wasn't so gullible, but their presence in this wilderness—a lone man and woman, clearly fleeing—piqued his curiosity.
"We're journalists from New Zealand, stationed in the capital," the man said. "We were exploring nearby when bandits attacked, stole everything, and tried to kill us. We escaped. You're brave Chinese soldiers—you should protect us."
Lei's brow furrowed. He didn't buy their story, but couldn't pinpoint their motive.
"Handsome officer, I'm Annie," the woman said, stepping closer, flaunting her curves with intent. "Protect us, and I'll repay you." Her beauty, especially in this lawless jungle, stirred primal urges.
Lei, unfazed, smirked. "Stay, but don't do anything stupid. My soldiers are real men—don't tempt their bloodlust."
The pair exhaled, exchanging relieved glances and thanking him profusely. Lei responded with a soldier's cold nod.
Soon, Wu and Qiuping rallied three squads to the site. Lei ordered them to camp together, halting separate training. He sent captains to locate the remaining teams for a full regroup. With a crisis brewing in the Yilin Mountains, training was on hold.
The sudden appearance of this man and woman gnawed at Lei. Something big was happening outside.
After briefing Wu and Qiuping, Qiuping sidled up with a sleazy grin. "Zhengyang, that chick's hot. Save her once, maybe she'll repay you with her body. A fling in this dark jungle? Not bad."
Lei shot the shameless man a withering glare, then asked Wu, "Any way to contact the outside?"