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

Chapter 666 Zeng Linglong's Tragic Story

In front of their televisions, hundreds of millions of people stood up simultaneously!

In the square, people held hands, heads held high, shouting loudly at the screen—

"When the nation is strong, we fight! When we protect it, we fight! When we uphold brotherhood, we fight!"

Then came the national anthem.

In the square, indoors, on the street, or among people driving—

Wherever they were, they began to sing the national anthem!

They used the national anthem to praise the warriors and heroes in their hearts.

The terrorists on the east were forced to run rapidly up the rocky mountain by Zeng Linglong's bullets.

Despite the pain and the excruciating itching all over his body, Zeng Linglong resumed firing at the terrorists who were advancing southward.

The rigorous training and drug abuse he endured from a young age by the poison doctor Xue Yan made Zeng Linglong's endurance and physical strength far exceed those of ordinary people.

He ran for a while, and the feeling of exhaustion became more and more severe.

My upper body has started to blister, and any movement causes excruciating pain and intense itching.

He was breathing heavily, kneeling on one knee, using the sniper rifle to support his body.

Continuing into the headset, the voice was incredibly soft—

"Ruge, Anna, thank you for your deep affection! I can never repay you in this lifetime!"

"Ruge, you must be watching me too. I hope you won't be sad and cry for me."

Yan Ruge looked at Zeng Linglong on the screen, at his profile.

At this moment, she pressed her hands tightly against the television, her cheek pressed against Zeng Linglong's cheek on the screen.

It looked as if she was embracing Zeng Linglong, or as if she were kissing him.

Her tears had long since dried, and she choked out soft sobs as she murmured—

"Brother Long, I'm here! I'm listening too!"

"I can hear your voice..."

"But you can't hear my screams..."

"You cannot see my countless longings and the anguish in my heart..."

"Brother Long, I know about your protection and your perseverance!"

"I will call your name ten thousand times in my dreams, even if it means waiting for you for another ten thousand years—"

"I only ask that you..."

She paused for a moment, her voice as soft as a withered leaf in the wind—

"I only ask...that your figure...can...appear."

On television, Zeng Linglong was already experiencing a severe attack.

He gripped his entire body with both hands, tearing his combat uniform with his fingernails, leaving his upper body covered in scratches and blood streaks.

He rolled in agony on the sand, the dust clinging to his bloodied body like salt rubbing into his wounds.

He let out a long howl, tore off his combat uniform, and ripped off his shirt!

His body was covered in scars—gunshot wounds, artillery wounds, knife wounds—his battle record, and his war god totem.

Then, he gritted his teeth and endured it intensely again, his hands clenched tightly and trembling violently.

"ah--!!!"

He roared and slammed his head against the wall.

"Thump! Thump!"

Use pain to wake yourself up.

Then--

He stood up again with difficulty, shirtless.

He fired his sniper rifle wildly at the charging terrorists, thinking about his past as he fired—

He burst into laughter, yet tears streamed down his face! His voice was low and hoarse—

"Born without knowing where to go, without father or relatives, ravaged by the wind."

"Holding a black steamed bun, I swallowed the bitterness; tears of blood seeped into my heart."

At this moment, the last rays of sunlight of the night shone on Zeng Linglong's upper body.

His body was covered in scars, which looked like coiled dragon patterns in the setting sun.

He continued firing while shouting hoarsely—

"Scars crisscrossed his childhood body, his thin bones and childlike eyes filled with pain and confusion."

"A childhood of tattered clothes, year after year my eyes grow desolate..."

Yan Rugo followed Zeng Linglong's voice and murmured softly in sync—

"The abyss has become a common sight; why bother distinguishing between bitterness and sorrow?"

"The wind blows, leaves fall, the tree is heartless; a desolate shadow falls upon this world!"

"A crippled body etched with dragon patterns, bearing witness to its history and the bonds of kinship!"

"I dare to borrow the clouds and ink of heaven to paint the landscape in my hand."

Finally, Zeng Linglong pressed the remote control.

Those were candy-shaped remote-controlled bombs that had been buried long ago on the eastern side and the rocky hillside.

"BOOM BOOM BOOM—!!!"

The intense explosion and flames instantly engulfed the bodies of the terrorists to the east.

Dozens of figures were blown into the air, their flesh and blood flying everywhere, and severed limbs and torsos dancing in the air.

Half of the rocky hillside was blasted down, with rubble rolling down and dust obscuring the sky.

Zeng Linglong was shirtless, and his tongue had been bitten so hard that it bled.

He continued firing his sniper rifle at the enemy to the south.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Every shot takes away an enemy.

The scars on Zeng Linglong's upper body were clearly visible on the television screen.

Beneath his bronze-colored muscles were numerous gunshot wounds, artillery shell wounds, knife marks, and scratches from his fingernails.

Every scar tells a tragic story.

Every scar is a narrow escape from death.

Finally, Zeng Linglong stood on the rooftop, alone with his gun, gazing up at the sky towards the east, and once again let out a long roar to the heavens—

"Amidst the chaos of war, a young man arrives, alone with his sword, gazing towards the heavens...!"

In the square, people were already in tears.

They looked at the figure covered in wounds.

I watched him standing alone on the rooftop.

One man, one gun, still fighting a bloody battle against the enemy!

Thousands of people knelt on the ground, crying out loudly.

Grandpa Zeng was overcome with tears.

An aged voice, a desperate scream.

"Little Dragon...!"

Then, thump thump thump...!

He staggered backward and fell to the ground.

Yan Ruge's profile remains pressed against the screen.