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

The long stretch of time seemed to be stretched into meaningless lines, blurred by the outlines of the ruins and the flickering lights of rescue vehicles. The Kunlun soldiers, these warriors whose bodies had been tempered by the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, endured hardships unimaginable to ordinary people. Fighting continuously without a moment's rest, each person pushed to their limits, repeatedly surpassing themselves. Exhaustion surged like a tide, threatening to overwhelm their will, but their inner conviction always carved a path through it.

After clearing a vital passage, Gao Dazhuang's troops immediately shifted their focus to setting up camp and distributing supplies. Thousands of military tents, originally folded into tight squares, sprang up like mushrooms after rain in the night, quickly forming a continuous expanse. This was not just shelter from the wind and rain, but also a haven for the homeless survivors to find temporary comfort. Gao Dazhuang's voice was hoarse, rough like the grinding of gravel, yet he still commanded with force. He didn't see himself as a commander, personally carrying heavy supply crates and distributing them to every outstretched, trembling hand. The crates, weighing hundreds of pounds, felt weightless in his hands, his brute strength leaving the ordinary civilians assisting him speechless. Sweat mixed with dirt, forming mottled marks on his resolute face. Yet, the flame burning in his tiger-like eyes never extinguished.

A young soldier stepped forward, his face showing obvious worry, and whispered, "Boss, take a break. You haven't slept for almost thirty hours. Even the strongest body can't take it."

Gao Dazhuang simply shook his head, the veins on his forehead bulging slightly, but not with anger. "So many villagers still have no food, no place to stay, how can I sleep?" The weariness in his voice was unmistakable, but his tone was as hard as iron, brooking no argument. He knew that at this moment, every action he took, every response he uttered, was magnified infinitely in the eyes of the survivors. He was not only a rescuer, but also the only piece of driftwood they could grasp in this ruin, a symbol of hope. This responsibility weighed a ton, leaving him no room for complacency. A fire burned within him, determined to do everything he could to the utmost, even if it was just to ignite a glimmer of light in those desperate eyes.

Du Feifei's field medical station was bustling with activity from beginning to end. Wounded patients, pulled from the rubble, poured in like an endless torrent. The smell of disinfectant mingled with the stench of blood, amplified by the cold light of the emergency lamps. Du Feifei, this angel in white, lived up to her title, leading the medical staff from Kunlun, along with local doctors and nurses who volunteered to assist, in a continuous, high-intensity operation. While the medications were undoubtedly effective, their quantity was ultimately limited, each pill carrying the weight of a difficult choice. Most of the time, they relied on the combination of Kunlun's superb medical skills and modern medical knowledge, along with their tireless dedication.

She bent down, her fingers deftly threading the needle to suture a wounded man whose arm had been torn apart by a steel bar. The barbs of the barb had left deep, bone-revealing wounds in the muscle tissue, a bloody mess. Du Feifei's technique was precise, her movements swift, without the slightest hesitation. Her inner energy flowed into the injured man's body like fine threads, stabilizing his vital signs, relieving the excruciating pain, and accelerating cell healing. Her face was somewhat pale from the long hours of work, but her eyes shone with an almost obsessive focus. That focus seemed to shut out all the noise of the outside world, leaving only a silent contest between her and the injured man, a race against death.

The nurse assisting her, a key member of the local hospital's emergency department, watched Du Feifei's figure, who had barely left the operating table, and said in a very low voice, filled with concern, "Doctor, you haven't had a rest in ages either. Your eyes are all bloodshot..."

Du Feifei didn't look up, cutting the last suture without the slightest hesitation. "My patient hasn't rested yet, how can I rest?" she asked softly, her tone devoid of complaint, simply stating a simple yet weighty fact. She knew that every extra second of perseverance might snatch a life back from the clutches of death. Those miracles saved by elixirs were few and far between; most were battles between flesh and blood and exquisite medical skills. Every suture, every bandage, was infused with her entire heart and strength. Like an unyielding sculpture, she built a bulwark of life with her own body in the shadow of death.

Su Chen and Long Xiaoyun, like two invincible sharp blades, constantly traversed the most dangerous core area of ​​the ruins. Su Chen's divine sense covered an area of ​​several kilometers in radius; every faint trace of life, even those buried under layers of reinforced concrete, could not escape his detection. He was like a highly sophisticated human radar, constantly locking onto targets, like an invisible yet precise navigator, guiding Long Xiaoyun and the other Kunlun warriors straight towards those trapped.

Long Xiaoyun moved nimbly through the ruins, her movements light yet powerful, never faltering. Her hands, once fair, were now covered in rough scratches from the rubble, some even oozing blood, stained with dust and grime. But she paid no heed. Each time she successfully rescued a survivor, an indescribable sense of relief and satisfaction would flash across her face. It wasn't the smile of a victor, but the joy of life's rebirth.

"Xiaoyun, go to the medical station and rest for a bit. You haven't slept for twenty-four hours." Su Chen's voice came through the radio, carrying a barely perceptible weariness, but also a deep concern. He sensed that although her aura was strong, it also showed signs of exhaustion. He saw her pale lips and the barely suppressed bloodshot eyes, and a sense of worry rose in his heart.

Long Xiaoyun shook her head. Her voice, a little hoarse through the speaker, carried an undeniable firmness. "It's okay, I can manage. There are so many people waiting for us." She knew that as Su Chen's right-hand woman and his partner, she had to set an example in times like these. Su Chen's words echoed in her mind: Forget your Grandmaster status, become a human excavator. And so she truly did it—a tireless, incredibly efficient human rescue machine. Every time she lifted a heavy concrete slab, every time she broke through twisted steel bars with her bare hands, she embodied the seemingly joking title of "human excavator" perfectly. She didn't need rest, at least not now.

Night fell once more upon this ravaged land. Yet, despite the continued devastation, the progress of the rescue efforts was undeniable. The iron will of the Kunlun soldiers, like an unbreakable backbone, supported this land ravaged by natural disaster. Through their actions, in the simplest yet most moving way, they exemplified the true meaning of "People's Liberation Army." They are the brightest beacon of hope in this calamity.

In a brief respite, Su Chen finally reached a relatively high spot atop the rubble. He took a deep breath of the air, thick with the smell of dust and blood, and looked down at the bustling rescue scene below. Dim emergency lights carved out countless work zones in the boundless darkness. Countless orange figures moved among the ruins, like tireless fireflies in the night sky, illuminating every corner of despair. He could feel the ecstasy and exhilaration of those rescued from the rubble. That shift from despair to hope flowed back to him through his divine senses like a tide, filling his heart with an indescribable warmth.

He knew that Kunlun's mission went far beyond charging into battle. Their existence was for protection, for building an unbreakable defense for this land and its people when disaster struck. They were the sharpest sword and the strongest shield of the Dragon Kingdom. But here and now, in everyone's eyes, they were symbols of hope, the only hope for the people in the disaster area. This heavy responsibility did not crush him; instead, it strengthened his inner conviction. He looked up at the sky illuminated by the stars and moon, the dark night deep and unforgiving. But he believed that with their tireless efforts, this scarred land would eventually be rebuilt and reborn. And this was the best destiny for these extraordinary individuals, the ultimate meaning of their power.