Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

"Sister Chen, how many people are you taking?"

"Me and Zichen," Lin Quan continued.

Count me in.

The three decided on a route on the spot, got in the car, and set off.

Lin Quan gripped the steering wheel: "Clearing the area is my job; you guys keep an eye on the hostages."

The vehicle was not heavily armed: three assault rifles with fifteen full rifle magazines; six pistols with twelve full pistol magazines.

As we approached the target area, the car turned into the woods and turned off.

As dusk approached, the three sneaked into the camp.

Lin Quan's actions were extremely simple... kicking down the door, climbing through the window, cutting throats, and disarming the hostages. In less than two minutes, he found the detention center, where all of the dozen or so hostages were.

After Tang Zichen and Lin Yanan led their men away, he turned back.

The first shot rang out, and the camp exploded.

Headshot, brain piercing, neck piercing—without exception.

Screams, roars, the sound of guns being dragged, and the sound of spent cartridges hitting the ground all blended together.

Reload in one second, draw the gun in half a second, move three steps, and fire again.

He moved through the camp like the wind sweeping across a wheat field. A dozen or so rifle magazines emptied one after another.

He drew his pistol, fired with both hands, and drew a red dot between his eyebrows.

With his magazine empty, he bent down to pick up a weapon from the ground and continued pressing into the barrage of fire.

"A devil! He's a devil!" someone screamed as they darted into the woods.

"Fuck!"

"JesusChrist!"

He chased after the fleeing figures, striking down those who were farther away first, while those who were closer were outmaneuvered.

At the edge of the forest outside the camp, Tang Zichen leaned against a tree, gazing at the firelight-reddened horizon.

"Sister Chen... Brother Quan's skills are truly beyond human ability, aren't they?" Lin Yanan whispered.

The gunfire had not yet subsided when Lin Quan continued to clear out the remaining enemy forces within the camp.

A dozen minutes later, the final muffled thud landed, and the echo faded away. Lin Quan stepped out of the camp gate, his clothes perfectly wrinkled, his shoes spotless, his steps unhurried, as if he had just returned from a walk.

Some people fell, but didn't truly die...

Having been submerged in darkness for too long, Shi Yu suddenly sat up, his throat tightening as he gasped for air, his chest heaving violently.

My mind is blank, and my heart feels heavy.

Where is this?

He glanced around... a metal bunk bed, a fluorescent light, slightly worn walls, and peeling paint on the window frames. A single dormitory room?

But he remembered being hit by a stray bullet in a border firefight zone and losing more than half his blood before being taken to the hospital. Even if he survived, he should be lying in the ICU with tubes all over him, not waking up in this clean and tidy room.

What's even more strange is the body: there's no pain, no bandages, and not even a scab.

He rolled out of bed, barefoot, and walked a few steps to the bedside table. The mirror reflected a face... seventeen or eighteen years old, with clear brow bones, a sharp jawline, slightly disheveled hair, but his eyes revealed a dazed look of someone who had just woken up.

It wasn't him.

One second he was a 26-year-old emergency medical officer, working night shifts year-round, with dark circles under his eyes, calluses on his knuckles, and medicine stains always on his shirt cuffs.

In that instant, he became a teenager who had never left the school gates.

He stared at the mirror, remaining silent for a full half minute.

Don't tell him the surgery was successful...

Not a single wound remained, but the face was completely transformed, and the bones seemed to have grown back... This isn't medicine; it's a soul transplant.

cross?

Besides the mirror leaning against the corner of the cabinet with its mirror facing inward, there were also three booklets stacked on the headboard.

He picked it up and flipped through the covers one by one:

Essential Animal Care Manual for Beginner Animal Keepers

Postpartum Care for Pets

Interspecies Animal-Eared Girl Appraisal Guide

Shi Yu paused.

The first two books are to be expected. The third one... who would put something like this next to a pet care manual?

He reached out to turn the last page, and the moment his fingertips touched the spine, a sharp pain shot through his temple as memories flooded in.

Icefield City.

Pet breeding base.

Trainee zookeeper.

Beastmaster...

"Brother Quan, are you really alright?"

Tang Zichen came forward, looked him up and down several times, and then asked the question.

"A bunch of good-for-nothings, not worth my time." Lin Quan raised his hand to wipe his forehead, smiling easily.

"More than three thousand?" Lin Yanan's voice was dry. "All cleared out?"

"If I miss one, I admit defeat."

Her breath hitched. Three thousand armed men—even if they were all standing still like targets, it would take two hours to call them all out. But from the initial assault to the withdrawal, it took less than twenty minutes. The gunfire stopped before the vehicles even left the camp.

"Who's driving?" Lin Quan brandished the assault rifle in his hand. "I'll take the top spot. We came here on good terms, we can't afford to crash on the way back."

The dozen or so hostages huddled in the back of the truck, their shoulders hunched, and no one dared to breathe loudly.

The gun in his hand, along with dozens of fully loaded magazines, was seized from the camp. A dozen or so of the terrorists were retired special forces soldiers from the Star Nation; their equipment was brand new, with each rifle costing tens of thousands of Star Dollars. The two he picked out were nearly new, with almost no wear on the rifling.

Lin Yanan shifted gears and started the truck, which bounced and drove toward the port.

The sporadic sounds of artillery fire along the road were not unusual.

Lin Quan squatted on the car roof, a gun across his knees, a cigarette half-burned between his fingers, without even shaking off the ash.

A dozen minutes later, three pickup trucks pulled up from behind, with figures moving inside the truck beds and the glare of gun barrels blindingly bright.

He stood up straight, raised his arm, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

The seven or eight people in the two cars fell backward almost simultaneously, with a red mark between their eyebrows.

Suddenly, a white streak appeared on the right hillside... A rocket shot through the air.

He slightly deflected the gun and pulled the trigger again.

The bullet struck the warhead, exploding into a fireball in mid-air.

Gunfire was as dense as raindrops; with each shot, a person fell.

Lin Yanan glanced at the scene behind her in the rearview mirror and gripped the steering wheel tightly. She had been in this line of work for ten years and had seen sharpshooters, but she had never seen anything like this: on the bumpy road, every shot hit the eyebrow; a rocket was intercepted and exploded by a bullet halfway through its flight; five groups of bandits blocking the road, none of them lasted more than ten seconds.

"Brother Quan, Sister Chen, thank you."

With the giant ship right in front of her, Lin Yanan breathed a sigh of relief, and her voice finally became more steady.

After the hostages boarded the ship, Lin Quan and Tang Zichen turned around and headed back.

In less than 48 hours, the news that "one person wiped out a camp of 3,000 terrorists" had spread within several intelligence agencies.

Regardless of whether Lin Quan acknowledged it or not, or whether he was willing or not, the martial arts world had already begun to call him the "God of Slaughter".

He single-handedly wiped out more than 3,000 terrorists. If he can't be called a god of war, what can he be called?

When the news reached GOD's ears, he immediately set off for the training camp. GOD was the leader of the world's number one assassin organization, who proclaimed himself a god and could not tolerate any other "god".

He was a seeker of the Dao... He wanted to test his skills against the strong and climb the highest mountains. With someone like Lin Quan appearing, how could he possibly remain inactive?

Others may respect such seekers of the Dao, regarding them as pure martial arts fanatics.

Lin Quan, however, only saw them as the source of trouble.

Let him go? He'll come back again, and the time after that—it'll never end. Instead of dealing with it repeatedly, it's better to cut him off completely... Once he's gone, the trouble will naturally disappear.

In his eyes, GOD was never a benevolent entity. The leader of the world's largest assassin organization had blood on his hands that had long since tainted his conscience. His so-called pursuit of the Way was nothing more than using human lives as stepping stones and paving the way with ruthlessness; could someone who had stripped away even their emotions still be considered a living person? He was nothing more than a walking scabbard.