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Wang Tie turned over, rested his head on his arm, and pondered for a while.

"Are you really planning to go tonight?"

"If we drag this out until tomorrow, he'll know those seven people aren't coming back."

Lin Feng leaned against the bed, holding the piece of paper covered with names in his hand, and looked at it over and over again.

Wang Tie sat up, scratching the back of his head: "Alright, then I'll tell you the truth. Zhao Tianxiong, don't let his imposing position as deputy commander fool you, in reality..."

He held up five fingers halfway through his sentence.

"Fifth Dan Martial Artist".

Lin Feng was stunned.

"Fifth dan?"

"Yes, just a fifth-degree black belt." Wang Tie lowered his voice. "He used to be the head of the logistics department of the provincial martial arts association. He has connections in the family and spent money to get him a position in the North. The position of deputy commander has nothing to do with fighting. It's just about managing food, supplies, and logistics."

"The North is desperately short of manpower. The higher-ups know he can't fight, but someone has to take care of logistics. So they just turn a blind eye."

Lin Feng folded the paper and put it back in his pocket.

Where is his office?

"The innermost room on the second floor of the logistics department on the east side of the camp."

He usually stays inside alone after nine o'clock at night, with two guards at the door, both of whom are first-level martial artists.

After Wang Tie finished speaking, he added, "However, the door to his office is reinforced with alloy; it can't be pried open from the outside."

"No need to pry it open."

Lin Feng rolled out of bed and hung the knife on his waist.

I knocked on the door.

Wang Tie's lips twitched: "You fucking knocked on the door?"

"He has to open the door himself."

Lin Feng opened the barracks door and glanced back.

"Wait for me to come back."

Wang Tie sighed, pulled a flask of wine from under the bed, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig.

"Okay, I'll warm the wine for you."

......

It's 10 p.m.

The east side of the camp was very quiet, with only the sound of patrol footsteps every few minutes.

Lin Feng figured out the patrol intervals and, during the gaps between the two teams, slipped along the wall to the downstairs of the logistics department.

The light was on in the innermost window on the second floor.

Two guards stood against the wall at the entrance; one was smoking, and the other was looking down at his phone.

Raymond Lam did not use the main entrance.

He went around to the back of the building, used his feet to push off the wall, and quickly climbed up to the second-floor windowsill.

The window was ajar, and the sound of turning pages could be heard coming from inside.

Lin Feng glanced inside.

Zhao Tianxiong sat behind his desk, a stack of documents in front of him, a cigarette between his fingers, writing something in a notebook.

There was a pot of tea on the table, the tea still steaming.

There was a military overcoat hanging next to it, with bulging pockets, most likely containing keys.

Lin Feng pushed open the window and climbed inside.

The sound of it hitting the ground wasn't loud, but Zhao Tianxiong still heard it.

He suddenly looked up and saw Lin Feng standing by the window, almost dropping the cigarette in his hand onto the table.

"you!"

"Good evening, Lieutenant Zhao."

Lin Feng stood there, his hand on the hilt of his knife, speaking in a tone that sounded like a greeting.

Zhao Tianxiong's face twitched twice. He quickly glanced in the direction of the door. Two guards were still outside, separated by an alloy door.

He forced himself to sit up straight and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Lin Feng, you've emerged from the crevice?"

"They're out."

"Where are Liu Gang and Zhou Yuan?"

"He's dead."

Zhao Tianxiong tapped his fingers twice on the table, his expression changing several times.

"Too many monsters, couldn't hold out?"

"It wasn't a monster that killed it."

Lin Feng took a step forward.

Zhao Tianxiong pressed his back against the chair back and quietly reached his hand towards the drawer.

"I killed him."

As soon as those three words were spoken, the temperature in the office seemed to drop a few degrees.

Zhao Tianxiong stopped.

He stared at Lin Feng.

"Do you know what you're saying? Murdering a regular guard of the North is a capital offense."

"What crime is it to send people to assassinate new recruits in the cracks?"

Zhao Tianxiong did not respond.

Lin Feng continued walking forward, each step unhurried and deliberate.

"The seven martial artists who blocked my entrance to the rift are also dead."

Zhao Tianxiong's face froze completely.

Seven?

They're all dead?

The seven martial artists he hired at great expense all failed.

"Impossible." Zhao Tianxiong's voice tightened. "You're just a martial arts apprentice, how could that be possible?"

"Shortsighted! I'm a second-level martial artist!" Lin Feng interrupted him.

Zhao Tianxiong's pupils suddenly contracted.

Musha?

When this kid came to the Northern Border to report for duty a few days ago, it was clearly written in his file that he was a fifth-level martial arts apprentice.

How many days has it been? From Martial Apprentice Level 5 to Martial Artist Level 2?

unless......

Zhao Tianxiong's mind raced, and a thought suddenly exploded in his head.

"Body Tempering Pill".

He stared intently at Lin Feng, his voice cracking.

"Did you take that batch of Body Tempering Pills?"

Raymond Lam did not deny it.

Zhao Tianxiong suddenly stood up, his chair sliding back a meter before crashing into the wall.

"Okay, okay!"

He laughed, but it was a very ugly laugh.

"So that's why those two pursuers died so easily, and you wiped out all the strange beasts within a three-kilometer radius of the wilderness. Turns out it was you!"

"A new recruit dared to intercept my goods as soon as he arrived in the North, and used up all the Body Tempering Pills without saying a word."

"How dare you!"

As Zhao Tianxiong spoke, he took a short knife out of the drawer.

The blade is dark black, and it looks quite high-end.

But the hand holding the knife was trembling violently.

Lin Feng looked at the knife without any expression.

"Lieutenant Zhao, I advise you to put down the knife."

"Screw you!" Zhao Tianxiong roared and leaped out.

His speed is considered fast even in the military.

But compared to Raymond Lam, it's no different from slow motion.

Lin Feng didn't even bother to draw his sword.

He dodged the knife by stepping aside, grabbed Zhao Tianxiong's hand with his left hand, and twisted it outwards.

Click.

The sound of the wrist bone breaking was very crisp.

Zhao Tianxiong screamed in agony as the dagger flew out of his hand, embedded itself in the wall, and trembled several times.

Lin Feng gave Zhao Tianxiong a push, and Zhao Tianxiong crashed into the desk, sending the teapot, documents, and ashtray crashing to the floor.

Zhao Tianxiong clutched his severed hand and slumped to the ground, his face drained of all color.

"You dare touch me? I'm the deputy commander! Touching me is treason!"

"rebellion?"

Lin Feng squatted down to be at eye level with him.

"Reselling military supplies, withholding new recruits' pensions, and embezzling body-tempering pills allocated by the provincial martial arts association. If these things were exposed, who do you think would rebel?"

Zhao Tianxiong's lips trembled, and he couldn't speak.

"Zhou Yuan confessed everything before he died." Lin Feng reached out and pulled off the bunch of keys hanging around Zhao Tianxiong's neck.

"The third drawer, the hidden compartment, right?"

Zhao Tianxiong's face completely fell.

Lin Feng stood up, walked behind the desk, and opened the third drawer.

There is a panel at the bottom of the drawer. Turning the key on the side lock will pop the panel open, revealing the contents inside.

A small, black notebook, plus a stack of bank transfer slips.

Lin Feng opened the notebook, which was filled with dates, quantities, amounts, and buyers.

Body Tempering Pills, Rejuvenation Pills, Ammunition, High-Grade Healing Medicine... the variety is outrageous.

Each transaction has a code that corresponds to a different buyer in the provincial capital.

The earliest record dates back three years.

"Three years." Lin Feng closed the notebook and weighed the stack of bank transfer slips in his hand.

"How much did you resell in three years?"

Zhao Tianxiong lay on the ground, trembling all over, refusing to utter a single word.

Lin Feng didn't ask a second time.

He drew his long sword and pressed the tip against Zhao Tianxiong's throat.

"I have a question for you."

"You said that those new recruits who died on the front lines should have been given healing pills and ammunition, but because you resold supplies, they went up to the city walls empty-handed."

How many people died?

Zhao Tianxiong's body was curled up on the ground, and he was making muffled whimpering noises.

"You don't have to tell me."

Lin Feng sheathed the knife and stood up.

"Anyway, it's all written in this notebook."

He tucked the notebook and receipts into his pocket, then turned and walked to the window.

Zhao Tianxiong suddenly got up from the ground and lunged towards the door.

"Come......"

The word "person" hadn't even been uttered yet.

A flash of light appeared.

Zhao Tianxiong's body froze on the spot, and a thin line appeared on his neck.

The thin line slowly turned red, and droplets of blood rolled down one by one.

His mouth was open, and only the sound of bubbles bursting came from his throat.

Then, he fell forward and crashed to the floor, where he remained motionless.

[Target to be eliminated: Zhao Tianxiong]

[Steel of the Blade: 84/500]

Lin Feng sheathed his sword and climbed out the window.

From entering to leaving, it took no more than three minutes.

The two guards outside were still in the same spot. One had just finished smoking and was looking for a lighter, while the other's face was illuminated by the light from his phone screen, and he didn't even look up.

......

Back to the barracks.

Wang Tie was indeed still awake, leaning against the headboard, the wine pot already half empty.

Seeing Lin Feng push the door open and come in, he first glanced at the scabbard; it was clean and there was no blood.

"Did it work?"

Lin Feng threw the black leather notebook and receipts he was carrying onto Wang Tie's bed.

Wang Tie picked it up and flipped through a couple of pages, his face growing increasingly grim.

"That son of a bitch, he squandered over eight million worth of supplies in three years? Last winter's batch of healing pills didn't reach more than fifty people on the front lines; nineteen of them froze to death or died in battle. So he sold them out?"

He slammed the notebook on the bed, his voice low, but the veins on his hands bulged.

Where is Zhao Tianxiong?

"He's dead."

Wang Tie remained silent for a few seconds.

"So, what do you plan to do with these things?"

"Give it to Chen Lie first thing tomorrow morning."

"Instructor Chen?" Wang Tie frowned. "Is he worthy of the title?"

"He's a veteran from the North, he's lost his arm here, he wouldn't side with Zhao Tianxiong. Besides..."

Lin Feng lay back on the bed and placed the knife next to his pillow.

"He's backed by the commander of the Seventh Defense Line. It's impossible that the commander didn't hear about Zhao Tianxiong's reselling of supplies; he just lacked evidence."

"Now we have the evidence."

Wang Tie nodded, refolded the notebook and receipts, and handed them back to Lin Feng.

"Okay, you're efficient."

He took a sip of wine, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke again.

"But have you considered that Zhao Tianxiong has connections in the provincial capital? If he dies, the provincial capital won't let it go so easily?"

Lin Feng closed his eyes.

"By the time the people from the provincial capital come looking for me, I won't be the same person I am now."

Wang Tie opened his mouth, but said nothing more.

On the next bed, Li Ming turned over, mumbled something in his sleep, and fell asleep again.

The camp was quiet, as if nothing had happened.

Early the next morning.

Lin Feng took his lunchbox to the cafeteria, half an hour earlier than usual.

Chen Lie was indeed there as well.

The one-armed instructor sat alone in a corner, with two steamed buns and a bowl of porridge in front of him, eating very slowly.

Lin Feng walked over and sat down opposite him.

Chen Lie looked up at him and stopped chewing his steamed bun.

"So early?"

Lin Feng took out the black leather notebook and the stack of receipts from his pocket, placed them on the table, and pushed them over.

"What is this?"

"Zhao Tianxiong's ledgers and transfer records for reselling military supplies over the past three years."

Chen Lie's hand was suspended in mid-air when the steamed bun fell into the porridge bowl, splashing out a few drops of porridge.

He looked down at the black leather notebook on the table, but didn't touch it immediately.

Where is Zhao Tianxiong?

He died in his office.

Chen Lie's eyebrows twitched twice.

He slowly put down his chopsticks, picked up the notebook, and opened it.

His hand stopped when he turned to the third page.

Turning to page seven, his breathing became heavier.

He turned to page fifteen and closed the notebook.

"That batch of medicine from last November." Chen Lie's voice was low, but his tone was very angry.

"Six of my soldiers died. The youngest was only seventeen years old. He was wounded and there was no medicine. He was held up for two days before he died right in front of me."

"I asked Zhao Tianxiong about it, and he said that the higher-ups hadn't allocated it."

Chen Lie gripped the notebook tightly in his hand.

"Didn't he use it? Damn it, he sold all three hundred healing pills for two million four hundred thousand."

Lin Feng didn't say anything.

Chen Lie took a deep breath, tucked the notebook into his pocket, and stood up.

"I'll handle this. Go back and wait for news. Don't go anywhere today."

He took two steps, then stopped and looked back at Lin Feng.

"Can you handle Zhao Tianxiong's men?"

"able."

Chen Lie nodded and strode out of the cafeteria.

Lin Feng picked up his lunchbox and began to eat breakfast.

Halfway through the meal, a commotion broke out at the entrance of the cafeteria.

Someone ran in shouting, "Something's happened in the logistics department! Lieutenant Zhao is dead in his office! There's a gash on his neck, the blood's already dried!"

The cafeteria erupted in chaos.

Lin Feng lowered his head, picked up a piece of pickled vegetable, and stuffed it into his mouth.

The commotion at the entrance grew louder and louder.

Several logistics personnel rushed in, led by a burly man with a thick beard. He scanned the canteen and stared intently at Lin Feng.

"Raymond Lam!"

A burly man with a thick beard walked over and overturned the lunchbox in front of Lin Feng.

"Does Zhao's matter have anything to do with you?"