The Rise of a Special Forces Soldier Abandoned by a Wealthy Family

At this moment, Elder Liu and others are in the main conference room.

On the large screen in the conference room, more than a dozen images and sounds were being played back by high-altitude drones and virtual robots.

The view is almost flawless from every angle.

The compatriots on the playground were taken to a designated location.

The mad battalion commander stood in front of them, holding a deck of cards.

He spoke slowly and deliberately in broken Chinese:

"Now, let's play a fun game. The rules are very simple—"

A cruel smile spread across his lips:

There are two jokers in the deck of cards.

"The two who touch it first will step forward."

"The king wants to kill me with his own hands."

"But if Your Majesty does not kill, then I, the humble king, will kill Your Majesty in return."

"If we don't kill either of them—then you will both die."

"And it will also implicate the other two most powerful figures."

"I will be buried with you two."

He threw his head back and laughed loudly: "This game, isn't it fun?"

He patted the deputy battalion commander next to him on the shoulder.

"Well done! This hunting game is so much fun! It's even more fun than the game you described yesterday!"

In the main conference room, Liu Lao and the other five military region commanders clenched their fists, veins bulging.

The fist made a "crackling" sound, like bones groaning.

The top executive slammed his fist on the table—"Thump!" The sound was as dull as thunder.

His voice was filled with barely suppressed anger:

"This is too cruel! This is an act against humanity!"

"My fellow countrymen are being mercilessly hunted down like toys!"

"The ten million mighty soldiers of our Dragon Nation's military, and the hundreds of millions of people of our Dragon Nation—we will not rest until this humiliation is avenged!"

He turned to his chief secretary beside him and said.

"Once the operation begins, we will connect this video to the live broadcast room based on the battle situation."

The chief secretary straightened up: "Yes!"

Grandpa Zeng Rong stood up from his seat.

His body stood tall and straight like a pine tree under the lamplight.

His voice, aged yet powerful, declared: "Then let Little Dragon—beat him hard! Kill him mercilessly!"

mountain top.

Zeng Linglong and all his teammates also saw the footage and heard the madman's words.

Every face covered in paint was etched with anger.

Every pair of eyes burned with the flames of hatred. The hands gripping the guns bulged with veins.

They stared intently at the direction of the Second Battalion, like beasts about to pounce on their prey.

As soon as Zeng Linglong gave the order, their eager bullets would plunge into the bodies and heads of these scumbags.

Zeng Linglong checked the time.

He spoke into his headset, his voice like tempered steel: "Death—five minutes. Lock down all the sentries around you with your guns."

"Yes!" Ye Feng gave the allocation instructions to the snipers behind him.

Old Ghost and nine other snipers ran in different directions at the same time.

Their figures moved silently and stealthily in the desert, like ghosts.

"Beasts and tanks—you lead the heavy firepower team and, once the snipers fire, rush into the camp from four directions immediately."

"Yes!" Tie Zhu and Guo Wei responded simultaneously. More than a dozen main and secondary gunners quickly dispersed to four directions.

"Saber, Eagle—the two squads you're in charge of, keep a close watch on the hostages and the enemies around them. Remember, you don't need to worry about anything else, just focus on the safety of the hostages."

"Yes!" Fang Rong and Tang Long answered simultaneously.

"Everyone else—once the heavy gunners enter the camp and provide suppressive fire, you will immediately move your vehicles and rush into the camp from four directions."

"The hostages are located to the south of the camp. Vehicles entering from this direction must immediately tear through the defensive netting to rescue the hostages, and then rescue them according to the actual situation."

He took a deep breath and glanced at all the team members: "Now—on your positions, check your weapons, and prepare for action."

"Yes!" All the team members responded softly, like more than a hundred low rumbles of thunder.

Inside the camp.

The deputy battalion commander took out a deck of cards and began dealing them to the hostages.

One after another, like invitations to death being handed out.

Chenchen turned over the cards.

His mother immediately knelt on the ground.

Her knees slammed heavily onto the cold concrete floor.

She kowtowed desperately, her forehead hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Her voice was a piercing, heart-wrenching cry: "Please! Please! He's just a child! Please, let me take his place! Let me die in my son's place!"

The armed men nearby burst into laughter.

The laughter was shrill and cruel, like the cry of a vulture.

The deputy battalion commander, who was dealing the cards, snatched the playing cards from his mother.

A spade Ace.

He chuckled.

"Don't worry—if your son doesn't kill Xiao Wang, even if you die with him, your son won't be alone."

The one who took Xiao Wang's things was a young man.

He gave a wry smile.

That smile contained despair, resolve, and a willingness to die.

He came to Chenchen, squatted down, and patted his head.

His hands were trembling.

But his voice was calm: "Chenchen, don't hesitate, just shoot your brother."

Chenchen is only two years old.

He didn't understand the rules of the game at all, nor did he understand what death was.

His voice, carrying a childlike innocence, was so pure and innocent:

"Brother! I won't kill anyone! Chenchen is a good boy! Chenchen will protect Mom!"

Chenchen also knelt down.

The small body knelt on the cold ground.

He looked at his mother, tears welling up in his eyes:

"Mom! Chenchen doesn't want to die! He doesn't want Mom to die either! And he doesn't want to kill his brother!"

The deputy battalion commander roughly pulled Chenchen up.

Then, he squatted down, hugged him, held Chenchen's hands, and gripped a pistol tightly.

His voice was soft, but at this moment, it was as cruel as the whisper of a demon:

"Little boy, if you pull the trigger, the older brother across from you will fall into a pool of blood and die. Then you won't die."

The young man opposite couldn't bear to look into Chenchen's innocent yet desperate eyes.

He slowly closed his eyes.

Tears slid down her cheeks and dripped onto the cold ground.

His voice was very soft, very soft:

"Chenchen, your brother isn't afraid to die."

"Brother hopes you can live a good life."

"Just close your eyes and shoot."

"When you fire the gun and open your eyes, your brother will be going to another world."

"If you don't shoot—you will die, and your loving mother will die too."

"No! No! No!" Chenchen cried.

He shook his head desperately, tears streaming down his innocent face.

"Chenchen won't kill anyone! Chenchen is so scared!"

He looked at his kneeling mother, his voice trembling, "Mom! Chenchen is so cold! So scared!"

Chenchen cried so hard her whole body was shaking.

Its small body was like a candle flickering in the cold wind.

mountain top.

Zeng Linglong lay on the ground.

His right hand was clenched into a fist, and he pounded the ground hard.

one more time.

Rock fragments cut his palms, drawing blood.

But he has forgotten the pain.

The inner turmoil is a thousand times more painful than any physical injury.

All the team members' hands, gripping their guns, were trembling violently.

The anger and hatred within him were about to burst forth from his body.

At this moment, snipers from all four directions quickly attached silencers to their sniper rifles.

Through the scope, the crosshairs locked onto the sentry on the other side.

Ye Feng's voice rang out in the earpiece: "Number One locked."

Old Ghost's voice: "Lock on number two." ... "Lock on number three."

"Number four locked."... One call after another, like the Grim Reaper calling out names.

When twelve consecutive "Locked on" messages rang in Zeng Linglong's earpiece, he gritted his teeth and forced out a single word from deep within his throat: "Fire!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" The faint gunshots rang out almost simultaneously.

The twelve sentries from the four directions, plus the sentry on the anti-tank tower, all had blood splattering from their heads at the same time.

They fell silently before they could even utter a sound.