If I made you a special forces soldier, would you become a terrestrial god?

One day later, at the Martyrs' Cemetery of the Southwest Military Region.

The sky was overcast, but it wasn't raining. The leaden-gray clouds hung extremely low, as if you could reach out and touch their cool, damp texture. The air was filled with the heavy scent of pine and freshly turned earth, so strong that breathing became difficult and sluggish.

Inside the cemetery, rows of newly carved tombstones were surrounded by people.

Shi Qingsong, along with all the senior generals in the military region who were able to leave, were all dressed in crisp military uniforms, the stars on their shoulders losing their luster in the dim light. They wore white flowers on their chests and stood silently at the forefront of the formation, like rows of silent pine trees.

Opposite them were the families of the fallen heroes. The cries were suppressed, only intermittent sobs, like dull knives cutting flesh, one after another.

In the middle of the column, Wang Zhan stood with his surviving comrades. Their uniforms were washed until they were almost white, but the dark red bloodstains on their cuffs could not be washed off.

"Captain, I...I can't stand up straight." A young soldier named Monkey next to him stammered, his face as white as paper. His gaze was fixed on an old woman not far away, who was holding a portrait and weeping bitterly. That was A Yong's mother.

Wang Zhan didn't look at him, but simply took out a cigarette from his pocket, unlit it, and held it between his fingers. "You have to stand up, even if you can't. Stand tall, and let the brothers see that we're not weak."

The monkey's eyes reddened, and he sniffed sharply, forcing back the tears that welled up. Yes, they were the survivors; they had to stand up for their brothers lying inside.

In the crowd, a simply dressed young woman held a child of only three or four years old in her arms. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her tears long since dried, leaving only empty eyes. She didn't know how to explain to the child in her arms why the father he had been asking to see every day, the one who had promised to buy him the largest Transformer toy when he returned, would never come back.

The child didn't understand what death was; he was just a little scared by the oppressive atmosphere, his little hands tightly gripping his mother's clothes.

"Mommy, where's Daddy? Why isn't Daddy coming out yet?"

The woman's body stiffened, and a hoarse sound came from her throat, but she couldn't utter a single word.

The child, growing impatient at the lack of an answer, struggled to peek out from his mother's arms, extending his chubby little hand to point to the twenty-three coffins draped with the national flag not far away.

"Is Daddy sleeping in there? I want Daddy! Daddy, wake up! You promised to take me horseback riding!"

The child's innocent cries, like a red-hot steel needle, pierced through the thin shell of strength that everyone present had put on as a facade.

"I want my dad to come back and be with me... Dad, don't go... You liar!"

The heart-wrenching cries instantly shattered the dam of reason that everyone had built. The tough men around Wang Zhan could no longer hold back, turning their heads away one by one, their shoulders heaving violently. They would rather lie inside themselves than witness this scene of life and death before their eyes.

The memorial service began.

Shi Qingsong stepped onto the makeshift platform. Looking at the pairs of grief-stricken eyes below, at those young lives that had withered before they even had a chance to experience hardship, he felt as if a burning coal was stuck in his throat.

He remembered the ice sculpture he'd seen in the cold storage yesterday, the mind-blowing data, and the godlike power of the Kunlun Squad. An unprecedented anger and frustration welled up from the depths of his heart.

Clearly...clearly, I didn't have to die!

He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded.

"Comrades, comrades-in-arms, and... the families of our most respected heroes..."

"Today, we stand here to bid farewell to our heroes."

"Wang Hao, Li Jun, Liu Yong..."

With each name he called out, the cries of the family members below the stage grew even more heartbreaking. He saw Wang Hao's elderly father, with his white hair, sway and almost fall to the ground, only to be held firmly by his wife beside him.

"They are the finest soldiers in our Southwest Military Region! They are the most loyal sons of the Dragon Kingdom!"

"Faced with a vicious enemy unlike any we had ever encountered before, not one of them retreated! They defended the nation's borders with their lives! They upheld the honor of their uniforms with their blood!"

"Every single one of them is a hero!"

Shi Qingsong's voice suddenly rose, each word carrying the sound of metal and stone.

"The Central Military Commission has issued its highest directive! Wang Hao and 23 other comrades are posthumously awarded the honorary title of 'Heroes of the Defender of the Nation' and awarded a First-Class Merit!"

"Their families are supported by the state! Their children are supported by our entire society! From today onwards, you are all our family!"

This is the nation's highest respect for its heroes, and its most solemn promise.

Hearing this, the family members below the stage cried even more heartbreakingly. The elderly father with white hair could no longer hold back, his legs gave way, and he knelt down before his son's coffin.

"My son—!"

A wild, mournful howl echoed throughout the cemetery.

This mournful cry brought tears to the eyes of all the tough men present.

"Bury him!"

Shi Qingsong roared as he gave his final command. A hot tear slid down his cheek.

With heavy but orderly steps, the honor guards slowly lowered the coffins into the pre-dug graves.

"Fire the gun!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The crisp sound of gunfire pierced through the clouds and mist, bidding farewell to their comrades!

The mournful sound of bugles echoed through the cemetery. Freshly turned soil was shoveled over the coffins. The dull thuds, like heavy hammer blows, struck everyone's hearts, masking countless sorrows and reluctance to part.

Wang Hao's father, trembling, took out a large, polished apple from his pocket and carefully placed it in front of his son's tombstone.

"Haozi...your favorite food...Dad...brought it for you...down there, don't be stingy..."

The old man's voice was broken in the wind.

The memorial service ended. The crowd gradually dispersed, but in everyone's heart, a scar that would never heal remained.

Wang Zhan walked to a new tombstone, the one of his soldiers, A Yong. He took out a half-pack of crumpled cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, lit it, and placed it in front of the tombstone.

Brother, rest in peace.

He watched the wisps of smoke rising, the sadness in his eyes had faded away, leaving only an unyielding, tangible resolve.

"Don't worry, we'll avenge you."

"Use the blood of those scumbags to appease your spirits in heaven!"

He turned around, and behind him, his surviving comrades silently gathered around, each with the same burning flame in their eyes.

Protecting their homeland is their sacred duty.

But now, they have something more important to do.

revenge!

To become a god like Kunlun!