Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

Ahei stood behind him, wearing a dark short jacket, lean and muscular.

He had a gun tucked into his waistband, a submachine gun slung over his shoulder, and a cup of tea in his hand, which he sipped slowly.

He watched Ruan Bao's retreating figure, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke, his voice not loud, but every word heavy: "Brother Bao, there's been no movement from the Northern bandits. I'm afraid there might be an ambush."

Ruan Bao turned around and looked at him, his smile unchanged, but the light in his eyes turned colder: "An ambush? What ambush he has? A few dozen men, a few broken guns, what kind of ambush can he have? We have American-made equipment. What can he use to fight us?"

Ahei opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn't say anything.

He looked at Ruan Bao's face, which was contorted with excitement, and felt a vague sense of unease, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He just felt that it was too quiet, a quietness that made him uneasy.

Outside the dock, to the east.

The skinny monkey squatted behind a pile of shipping containers, dressed in all black with his black hat pulled low.

Ten people were squatting behind him, all dressed in black, with their hands in their pockets and bulging waists.

He stared at the two sentries at the entrance to the dock—Ruan Bao's men, dressed in dark combat uniforms and carrying submachine guns.

He waited, waiting for Chen Feng's signal.

west.

Iron Head was squatting behind a truck. He was big and burly with a face full of scars.

Ten men, all dressed in dark clothes and holding knives, were crouching behind him. He stared at the barbed wire fence on the west side of the dock—there was a hole there, which Skinny Monkey had had cut open beforehand and covered with a piece of canvas so it couldn't be seen from the outside.

South. The man with the gap-toothed man squatted in an abandoned warehouse on the south side of the dock, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, unlit. Ten men, all dressed in dark clothing and carrying guns, crouched behind him. He stared at the two sentries at the south gate of the dock, waiting for Chen Feng's signal.

North. Mudfish crouched in an alley on the north side of the dock, his lean body hunched in the shadows, his eyes gleaming like a mouse's. Ten men, all dressed in dark clothes and clutching knives, crouched behind him. He stared at the iron gate on the north side of the dock—locked, but easily climbed over the adjacent wall. He waited, waiting for Chen Feng's signal.

The dock, night.

Chen Feng emerged from the sea.

He was wearing a black diving suit, night vision goggles, and a snorkel in his mouth.

Moonlight peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a soft white glow on the sea. He removed his snorkel, clung to the edge of the breakwater, and climbed up.

The breakwater was covered with moss, making it slippery and easy to slip on.

He steadied himself, crouched down, took out night vision goggles from the pocket of his tactical vest, and fastened them in front of his eyes.

The world has turned green. Breakwaters, containers, warehouses, cranes, and oil tanks have all turned different shades of green.

He stood up and crept deeper into the dock.

The footsteps were very light, almost making no sound on the concrete.

In the green field of vision of the night vision goggles, the containers looked like small mountains, slowly receding beside him.

The lights in the dock office were still on.

Ruan Bao stood by the window, holding a cup of tea, and slowly sipped it.

He was unaware that he was being watched.

Chen Feng crouched behind a pile of shipping containers, took out a sensor mine from the pocket of his tactical vest, placed it on the ground, and pressed the button on the side.

The landmine emitted a faint buzzing sound, its indicator light flashed, and then went out. It would explode if anyone came within three meters of it.

He took out another mine and placed it in another passageway. A third mine was placed at the warehouse entrance. Three mines, in three directions, completely blocked any escape routes in this area.

He stood up, took the submachine gun off his shoulder, checked the magazine to make sure it was full, and then put it back on.

He pulled military binoculars from his pocket, held them up to his eyes, and began searching.

The dock was quiet, with only the sounds of waves, cranes, and distant cargo ship horns blending together to form the background noise of the night.

Some of those people were patrolling, some were standing guard, and some were sleeping in the warehouse.

Chen Feng put away the binoculars and walked out from behind the container.

The night wind blew, making his clothes flutter. He carried his submachine gun and crept towards the dock office.

The footsteps were very light, almost making no sound on the concrete.

In the green field of vision provided by his night vision goggles, the shipping containers looked like small mountains, slowly receding beside him. He rounded a corner, and a man approached from the opposite direction. He carried a submachine gun, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, his eyes half-open, as if he had just woken up.

Chen Feng crouched down and hid behind the shipping container. The footsteps grew closer.

He slung the submachine gun over his shoulder and pulled a dagger from his boot.

The man walked over, stopped beside the shipping container, leaned against it, put a cigarette in his mouth, and bent down to light it. The flame of the lighter shone like a lamp in the green field of vision of the night vision goggles.

Chen Feng rushed out from behind the container, covered the man's mouth with his left hand, and stabbed him in the neck with a knife in his right hand.

The knife hadn't gone in even halfway when blood spurted out. The man's body twitched a few times, then went still.

Chen Feng helped him up and gently placed him on the ground.

In the dock office, Ruan Bao placed his teacup on the windowsill, turned around, and walked back to his desk to sit down.

He picked up the map on the table, spread it out, and looked at the red circles and arrows on it.

The North Korean docks are now completely under his control.

The North Asians didn't come, and neither did any of their people.

Ahei stood at the door, looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then said, "Brother Leopard, I'll go outside and take a look."

Ruan Bao looked up at him and said, "Go."

Ahei turned around, pushed open the door, and walked out. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded away in the corridor.

Chen Feng squatted downstairs at the dock office, looking up at the window on the second floor.

The lights were still on, the window was ajar, and the night breeze made the curtains sway gently.

He stood up, grabbed the drainpipe, and started climbing. The drainpipe was made of cast iron and was rusty; it creaked and groaned when he stepped on it.

He climbed very quickly, like a gecko, and in no time he reached the second-floor window.

He stopped, pulled a pistol from his waist, and screwed on a silencer.

He peeked through the window—Ruan Bao was sitting behind his desk, looking down at a map on it. He flipped over the windowsill and landed on the floor.

Ruan Bao looked up and saw Chen Feng.

His pupils contracted sharply. The Yankees—how could he be here?

With so many people outside, patrolling and on guard, how could he get in? He looked at Chen Feng, at that expressionless face, at those unfathomable eyes. His hand reached for the gun at his waist.

Chen Feng raised his gun and pulled the trigger.