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

"boom--!"

A deafening roar, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, echoed throughout the canyon.

That special alloy gate, which they were so proud of, was designed to withstand three RPGs without deforming. Now, it looked like a soda can smashed flat by a fist. The center of the gate was deeply dented, and countless cracks erupted from the point of impact, grotesquely covering its entire surface. The massive hinge connecting the gate to the mountain emitted a sickening metallic groan before being ripped from the rock by an irresistible force!

"Creak—Boom!"

The massive door, weighing several tons, collapsed inwards with a deafening roar, crashing to the ground and instantly engulfing the entrance in dust and debris.

The defense line was breached by a single "person" using the most primal methods!

"Rush!"

Yan Zhong uttered a single word.

Before he finished speaking, the shadowy figures waiting behind him had already shot off like arrows, piercing the gaping hole. A highly efficient and chilling cleansing had begun.

The drug dealers inside the fortress were still reeling from the shocking image of the gate being smashed when the iron fist of death slammed into their faces.

Seven or eight desperate thugs, their eyes bloodshot, brandished machetes and howled as they charged at the first Dragonblood member to rush in. The member didn't even change his pace, neither dodging nor avoiding, but simply threw a punch forward in the instant they crossed paths.

There are no fancy moves, just simple and unadorned techniques.

"Bang!"

A dull, unsettling sound of flesh colliding.

The air seemed to explode from that punch, sending out visible ripples. The drug dealer at the forefront had his chest cave in at an unnatural angle; his expression remained frozen in that moment of ferocity, but his body flew backward like a rag doll, the sound of bones shattering clearly audible. Three or four of his accomplices behind him were slammed to the ground by his heavy body; when they looked again, he was already lifeless, a bloody hole blown open in his back.

Elsewhere, a fixed heavy machine gun at the corner of the passage spat fire, attempting to build a defensive line with a dense hail of bullets. A relatively slender team member charged forward into the hail of bullets. His movement was extremely unpredictable, sometimes left, sometimes right, like a black lightning bolt, with bullets always chasing after his afterimage half an inch behind him.

Under the machine gunner's horrified, distorted gaze, he rushed forward, ignoring the gun barrel that could melt steel, and grabbed it with both hands.

"Sizzle—"

The sound of burning flesh filled the air, but he seemed to feel no pain.

"rise!"

With a low growl, he exerted force from his waist and abdomen.

He actually uprooted the heavy weapon that was firmly fixed to the ground by a concrete base! The hundreds of pounds of steel monster was as light as a feather in his hands. He lifted it with one hand and skillfully pulled the trigger with the other, turning the gun around.

"Judge, you're at it again, like a demolition crew," a teammate teased in the tactical channel.

"Making use of waste," the judge replied, his heavy machine gun roaring with pleasure as it shredded the stunned drug dealers opposite him into mincemeat.

A mobile fortress of firepower—no, a mobile demolition office director!

In the central monitoring room, dozens of screens divided the various corners of the fortress. As Ma Yunfei watched the scenes that defied common sense, he felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

But he wasn't a fool. The top special operations academy in the United States didn't teach him how to deal with monsters, but it did teach him how to think in desperate situations.

After a brief moment of distraction, he forced himself to calm down, his brain working at an unprecedented speed.

"All units, abandon direct engagement! On my command, consolidate your defensive lines and lure them into the 'meat grinder' passages of Sector B and Sector C! Use the terrain to divide them! Use traps and booby traps to wear them down!"

Ma Yunfei grabbed the walkie-talkie, his voice hoarse, but his instructions were clear.

He would use this fortress, which he had designed himself and was as intricate as a spiderweb, to grind the bones of these monsters. Street fighting, cornering, crossfire, booby traps... all the knowledge he had acquired told him that as long as he dragged the war into a war of attrition, he would have a chance of winning.

In theory, that's correct.

However, his prized tactics became a complete joke on the battlefield he himself had set up.

Behind a thick concrete wall, three drug dealers held their breath, waiting for the footsteps to approach, preparing to launch a deadly ambush.

The next second, a large hole suddenly exploded in the wall behind them.

"boom!"

Amidst the flying brick and stone fragments, a large, iron-like hand reached in, precisely gripping the back of a drug dealer's neck. Like grabbing a chick, it forcefully dragged him out of the hole in the wall, much to the horror of the other two.

Only a brief scream and the cracking sound of bones breaking came from outside, and then there was silence.

The remaining two drug dealers exchanged a glance, saw the fear in each other's eyes, and turned to run.

A narrow passage riddled with infrared booby traps. This is Ma Yunfei's masterpiece; anyone who wants to pass through must dodge the unseen death rays in an extremely contorted posture, like a gymnast.

A Dragonblood member walked in. He didn't even carry any detection equipment, simply strolling through the deadly infrared beams as if he were taking a walk in his own backyard, his steps never faltering. Reaching the end, he seemed to find the devices obstructing his view, casually dismantling all the detonators one by one, tossing them to pieces on the ground.

The elite mercenary team that Ma Yunfei hired at great expense—comprising retired SEALs and Delta Force veterans from the United States—finally made direct contact with the Dragonblood Squad.

A former Navy SEAL, skilled in stealth and assassination, slid down the ceiling ventilation duct like a ghost, silently drawing his military knife in a deadly arc, aiming for the neck of a Dragonblood member.

The perfect timing, the perfect angle.

However, his blade stopped just a hair's breadth away from the target's skin.

Two fingers, like two red-hot steel bars, appeared out of nowhere and firmly clamped the rapidly slicing blade.

"bite."

A soft sound.

The SEAL's pupils constricted sharply, and despite using all his strength, the blade could not advance even an inch further.

"Is that all the strength you have?"

The Dragonblood member didn't even turn around; he simply twisted the finger holding the blade in the opposite direction.

"Snap!"

The SEAL's arm was twisted in an unnatural shape, with his wrist and arm bones broken simultaneously, and his knife clattered to the ground.

That cold voice became the last words he heard in this world.

At another concealed vantage point, an ace sniper known as "The Ghost" had just peeked half his head out from behind cover. He hadn't even had time to bring his eyes to the scope.

Below, a Dragonblood team member who was moving at high speed seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He kept moving and simply picked up a piece of gravel from the ground and flicked his wrist.

"call out!"

The rocks tore through the air, their shrill whistling even drowning out the distant gunfire.

They came later but arrived first.

The sniper only saw a blur before the small stone precisely pierced his high-powered scope, its momentum undiminished, and it drilled into the center of his forehead, bringing out a clump of red and white brain matter.

Ma Yunfei leaned back heavily against the chair, as if all the bones in his body had been removed.

On the monitoring wall, dozens of images silently played out execution scenes.

It wasn't a battle, it was an execution.

His trump card, his confidence, and all the military theories and tactical ideas he learned from the United States were torn to shreds and trampled into nothing in the face of these unreasonable monsters.

Confidence, fear, confusion, and finally, only boundless despair remained.

The gunfire, screams, and explosions inside the fortress gradually subsided and eventually disappeared completely.

In less than twenty minutes, the seemingly impregnable fortress fell into a deathly silence.

"Bang!"

The door to the monitoring room was kicked open, and the deformed door panel slammed against the wall.

Yan Zhong's tall figure stood in the doorway, backlit. The bloodstains on his body were half-dried, appearing a dark brown in the dim light.

He didn't say anything, he just stepped in.

Those cold eyes looked past the mess on the ground and landed on the young man who was slumped in a chair, his face ashen and completely devoid of any luster.