Knife stood before the sprawling video wall, lost in silent contemplation. He faced a pivotal choice: relinquish Saber Team's control to Lei Zhengyang. It was a first for him. Knife thrived on command, and this hesitation gnawed at him.
After a moment's reflection, he knew such a chance was rare. Turning to his adjutant, he said, "Grant his request, but ensure he guarantees the files' return. Saber Team will support him."
The adjutant saluted and left. Knife gazed into the distance, his brow furrowing deeper. His heart wavered—he wanted Lei to succeed, yet dreaded it. Lei's meteoric rise already threatened Knife and his team.
Knife never hid his disdain for family factions. Amid their power struggles, he'd stayed neutral. But Lei Zhengyang had exceeded all expectations. If he could sweep the elite operatives infiltrating the Yilin Mountains, his strength would demand caution—even from Saber Team.
In future dealings with the Lei family, Knife would need to tread carefully, a complication for someone dedicated to balancing clan dynamics.
Wu Xiaomin, fresh off a call, flashed Lei an "OK" gesture. Though they'd cut external communications, she'd hidden a secret device—a soldier's precaution for this brutal training. She'd feared accidents, and now it proved vital.
"Third Uncle, you and Instructor Wu watch those journalists," Lei said. "This is our ultimate training exercise. Even if there's casualties, we've got cover now." The team's unsanctioned training meant any losses would bring heat, but Knife's approval gave them legitimacy.
Assigning Third Uncle to the journalists was for surveillance. Lei knew their identities but wasn't rushing. They were bait, luring others in. They'd stay useful for now.
In this jungle, laws didn't exist—only life-or-death choices. Lei felt like he'd returned to his hellish training camp, his eyes blazing with a thirst for blood, a sensation he hadn't tasted in ages.
"Listen up!" he addressed the team. "Over 30 foreign operatives have invaded this jungle. Training's over—we've got a new mission: wipe them out. These are world-class fighters, far beyond your solo skills. To leave this forest alive, stay sharp. I'm assigning tasks now."
On a crude forest map, Lei traced routes. After a month here, they had the edge: familiarity and terrain advantage.
Weapons were distributed. Gripping rifles loaded with live rounds, the soldiers realized Lei wasn't joking—this was real.
Luo Tiezhu, riding high from recent breakthroughs, charged to Lei's side, brimming with eagerness. "Instructor, give me the toughest job! If I fail, I'll offer my head."
Lei didn't coddle him, pointing to the western route. "Intel says the strongest group—over a dozen—came this way. They're a tight unit, hard to crack. Their leader's the 'International Eagle,' the top mercenary king. Be cautious, Tiezhu. No one'll mourn your death, but don't drag your men down with you. Clear?"
Lei's blunt words were a warning: don't let battle lust ruin the plan.
Tiezhu saluted. "Instructor, I won't let you down." Slaying the boar had shown him true qi's power. Overcoming Lei's recent obstacles had earned his trust, or this deadly task wouldn't be his.
"Good. Tiezhu, take the west. Second Squad, south. Third, north. Fourth, east. I'll lead Fifth Squad for a frontal assault. If you hit an unforeseen threat, fire an emergency flare. Sync watches—we regroup here by noon tomorrow. Understood?"
"Understood!"
"Move out!"
Intel pegged the intruders as cutthroats, not official agents. The stolen research was a state secret, so even if the thieves were caught, no nation would claim them. These mercenaries were hired couriers—expendable, deniable. Lei had no qualms about slaughtering them.
"Mr. Lei, where to now?" Annie trailed close behind, followed by the male journalist, Qiuping, Wu, and Fifth Squad's dozens of soldiers. Lei's team took the central route. Annie sensed something off.
She grabbed Lei's hand, her chest "accidentally" brushing his arm. In front of others, she kept it subtle, but her calculated moves were masterful, tempting Lei unnoticed.
A gun pressed against her head. Wu's icy voice cut through: "Miss Annie, time to hand over the files." Watching this spy flirt with Lei irked her. Qiuping, ever the softie for women, wouldn't have acted.
"What are you doing?" Annie gasped, feigning panic. "Mr. Lei, is this how Chinese soldiers treat international guests?" Her pitiful act was convincing, hands clutching her chest, accentuating her curves as she trembled.
Lei glanced back, nodding slightly. A shot rang out—Qiuping's. The male journalist's head exploded, dead without a sound. Though Qiuping spared women, men got no mercy.
Crouching, Qiuping searched the body, finding taped papers around the man's waist. He handed them to Lei, who scanned them briefly. They were indeed X-substance research files.
Pocketing them, Lei fixed Annie with a cold stare. "Two choices: hand over the files, or I take them from your corpse."
As Wu's gun nudged forward, Annie laughed, raising her hands. "Fine, I'm beaten. The files are strapped to my thigh." Ignoring the soldiers, she hiked her skirt, baring her leg. Taped at her thigh's root were more documents, just like the man's.
Lei signaled Wu for a thorough search—every inch, including Annie's underwear. Qiuping, watching, sighed, "Shame it's not me searching. I'd be gentle."
Wu shot him a death glare, then shook her head at Lei—no issues.
"Thanks for cooperating, Miss Annie," Lei said. "Smart move. You know I wouldn't mind making you a pretty corpse."
Annie's eyes flashed with icy resentment, but her smile stayed radiant.
"Worthy of a Chinese soldier," she purred. "May I know your name? I'll remember you forever—and miss you."
Before Qiuping could speak, Lei cut in, "No. Stick close, Annie. Stay with me, and you might live. Run, if you think you're faster than my bullet."
Rustling sounds echoed, followed by gunfire. Qiuping barked, "Disperse! Prepare for combat!"
Gunshots reverberated across miles, signaling the squads' clashes with enemies. Honestly, Lei worried for them—their skills were outmatched. He could only pray for their luck.
Glancing at his squad, Lei wondered how he'd survived his own hellish training camp.
Qiuping crouched, whispering, "I'll scout ahead. Xiaomin, cover me."
He darted forward like a leopard, but none expected hidden snipers. Two bullets sparked at his feet with a pop-pop. Lei shouted, "Watch out—snipers!"
Qiuping dove behind a tree, sweating. These bastards had been lying in wait for an ambush.
Lei snatched a soldier's rifle, spraying the jungle. A figure leaped, but a bullet grazed his leg, sending him crashing. Lei surged forward, Golden Dragon power cloaking him in silvery light. Reaching the spot, the sniper was gone, leaving only a pool of fresh blood.
This shooter was no amateur.