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

Zeng Linglong watched as his teammates disappeared from sight.

More than a hundred figures grew smaller and smaller, more and more blurred, in the wind and sand.

He stood up and stood on the high rooftop.

The setting sun shone on him, and also on his rugged profile covered in paint.

His figure stood tall and straight like a sword against the sky, yet it was filled with loneliness and desolation.

The desert evening wind rustled his combat uniform slightly, and the hem of his clothes fluttered in the wind.

He gave a determined smile, his voice incredibly hoarse:

"Brothers, you all must live well."

"I will stand guard for you until the very end—"

"Protect you to go home, go home in my place."

He slowly turned around, his gaze fixed on the north for the last time.

Look in the direction where the team members disappeared.

There, all that remained was a stretch of yellow sand.

A stretch of yellow sand dyed blood-red by the setting sun.

Then, he quickly went to the other side of the balcony—

Seeing that all the members of the first battalion had been wiped out by the terrorists.

The corpses lying haphazardly on the sand looked like a slaughterhouse under the setting sun.

They watched as terrorists, wearing gas masks, rapidly approached in an encircling formation.

Looking at the Emperor and his personal guards, he rolled on the ground in despair—

He scratched his face violently with his hands, leaving bloody marks on his face with his fingernails.

That was the destructive power and aftereffects of biological weapons.

Their screams echoed across the desert like the wailing of hell.

At this moment, Zeng Linglong showed no sign of backing down, only a firm belief in protecting what he was doing.

He quickly raised his sniper rifle—

He opened fire fiercely on the fuel tanks of several speeding SUVs ahead.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

After the gunshot—

"BOOM BOOM BOOM—!!!"

The car was repeatedly exploded, flames shot into the sky, and debris flew everywhere.

Several vehicles were reduced to burning scrap metal, blocking the terrorists' path.

Mohan roared:

"There's still someone on the other side who hasn't run away! Rockets, blast him! Other vehicles, keep chasing!"

But Zeng Linglong would not allow the car to pass through the Second Battalion.

His sniper rifle fired continuously, each shot hitting the fuel tank of a car precisely.

Rockets exploded beside him—

Amidst flames and debris, the shockwave threw him off balance, and shrapnel grazed his cheek.

But he didn't move an inch, continuing to run rapidly back and forth on the rooftop, sniping at the passing cars.

His figure appeared ghostly in the setting sun.

Every turn, every raise of the gun, took away a car.

Zeng Linglong lunged forward; there lay a Barrett sniper rifle that he had prepared long ago.

After landing, he casually picked up his sniper rifle—

"Bang!"

The tungsten steel armor-piercing projectile instantly destroyed the cannon barrel, and the shell exploded in the terrorist camp.

The shockwave knocked over the surrounding terrorists, but they were all wearing gas masks, so it had no effect on them.

However, the force of the explosion still caused more than a dozen people to fall to the ground.

Three vehicles had already passed through the Second Battalion and started chasing northward.

Zeng Linglong sprinted backward, then lunged forward, grabbing a Vulcan cannon in his hand.

"Da da da da—!!!"

Reaching the edge of the north-facing balcony, Zeng Linglong fired shots at the three cars.

"Boom boom boom!"

The three cars were riddled with holes by the Vulcan cannon, and their fuel tanks were also detonated, sending flames soaring into the sky and debris flying everywhere.

Zeng Linglong turned back to the south and began firing the Vulcan cannon at the terrorists.

His figure moved like a ghost, quickly moving and firing across the balcony.

Flames erupted from the six-barreled gun, and bullets rained down like a storm, pinning the terrorists down.

His steps never stopped, and his gun never cooled.

Mohan roared:

"Open fire with all rocket launchers! Provide fire support for the rooftop across the street!"

Five rocket launchers were simultaneously aimed at the rooftop from the southwest and south sides.

Zeng Linglong remained completely calm.

He raised the sniper rifle from his back with his right hand—

"Bang!"

A terrorist who was aiming a rocket launcher fell to the ground.

Then, he turned around and ran quickly towards the north side of the balcony.

Reaching the edge, without the slightest hesitation, he jumped off.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Four rockets were launched simultaneously, and the concrete of the south rooftop was instantly penetrated by the rockets!

"BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM—!!!"

The explosion caused the building to tremble violently, and debris fell from the sky, crashing onto the sand and creating deep craters.

Zeng Linglong jumped off from the north side.

His hands gripped the edge of the window on the floor below tightly.

His body was suspended in mid-air, with a void more than ten meters above his feet.

"ah--!!!"

He gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his neck, and with a burst of strength, pulled himself into the house.

Dust rushed in through the window, choking him and causing him to cough violently.

Xiaoya and twelve other communications personnel observed the battle on their tablets as they ran.

Thirteen surveillance drones were still monitoring from high above, and the footage they transmitted showed the leader fighting alone for them.

Bullets flew past him, rockets exploded beside him, and his figure moved across the rooftop as if dancing on the edge of death.

Tears welled up in their eyes, blurring their vision, but they dared not stop, could not stop.

Every step they take further away increases the chances of survival for the eldest brother.

Grandpa Zeng, Zeng Sheng, He Jing, Zeng Lingyu, and all the Zeng family members stood in different areas, watching the television screen nervously.

He gripped his thighs tightly with both hands, his whole body trembling violently.

No one spoke, no one dared to blink.

Their breathing was synchronized with the heartbeat of the person on the screen.

Zeng Linglong reached the top-floor window of the barracks, flicked his right hand, raised the sniper rifle on his back, and fired at the enemy again.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three bullets, three terrorists down.

His movements were clean and efficient, without a single unnecessary action.

Fujiwara stood behind the sand dune, roaring coldly:

"Baka! You're still alive?!"

He cursed at Mohan—

"What are your people good for?"

"One of them alone is enough to prevent us from advancing even half an inch!"

"The Chinese have already gone quite far. If we waste any more time, we won't be able to catch up with them!"

"Get the people from the east here right now!"

"Then we'll fire at him from three directions simultaneously—let's see how he defends!"

To the east, the Emperor's Eye finally gave way.

He held out for more than three minutes, killing more than a dozen terrorists.

But in the end, he collapsed helplessly on the sand.

His face was covered in scratches from his own fingernails, a bloody and horrifying sight.

Then, he was riddled with bullets by the terrorists, his body twitched a few times on the sand, and then he stopped moving.

The terrorists from the east have reached the foot of the rocky mountain to the east.

Zeng Linglong quickly went to the rooftop, picked up the Vulcan cannon, and continued to suppress the enemy.

He carried a Vulcan cannon in his left hand and a sniper rifle in his right, running back and forth on the rooftop.

His figure cast a long shadow in the setting sun, and his bullets shot at the enemy from all directions.

His left shoulder was bleeding, his right cheek was bleeding, and his whole body was in pain.

But he didn't stop, nor could he stop.