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

Deep within the Hellfire Base.

Xue Yan's laboratory is like an isolated island cut off from the world.

The heavy metal door kept out the wind, sand, and smoke from the outside world.

However, it couldn't dispel the tension that permeated the air.

The operating lights were on, their stark white light illuminating Zeng Linglong's pale face—

The light shone on his tightly closed eyes, and on the layers of old and new scars.

Xue Yan stood by the hospital bed.

Her fingers rested on Zeng Linglong's wrist.

With eyes closed, completely still.

Xue Yan's breathing was steady, and his heartbeat was normal.

But his brow was slightly furrowed, as if he were listening to some sound that only he could hear.

A moment later, he opened his eyes and quickly turned around—

Picking up the syringe, he precisely inserted the needle into Zeng Linglong's elbow vein.

Dark red blood slowly flowed into the test tube along the syringe.

His movements were quick and professional, each step precise as if it were a machine.

But in those eyes, there gleamed an almost obsessive madness.

Drawing Zeng Linglong's blood was an incredibly sacred thing for him.

Zeng Linglong may have gotten used to having his blood drawn since he was a child, and he may have even become addicted to it.

After the blood was drawn, Xue Yan immediately underwent testing.

He moved back and forth in the laboratory, from one instrument to another—

From microscopes to centrifuges, the pace was hurried yet methodical.

The test tube spun in his hand, and the data danced before his eyes—

His brain is like the most sophisticated computer, processing every piece of information.

Until the test results come out.

His eyes flashed with a cold light, and he let out a cold snort:

"Damn the Sun Country, they even used chemical warfare agents—mustard gas, a potent carcinogen?"

A cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth, a smile that contained disdain and anger.

He was absolutely confident: "But these things can't stump me."

He quickly opened the refrigerator, and a rush of cold air and white mist filled the air—

Rows of glass bottles were neatly arranged, gleaming with a faint blue light under the lamp.

This contains samples of antibiotics and vaccines that he developed independently.

If someone gets this refrigerator.

He will immediately become one of the world's top medical experts.

They will also possess countless riches and a life of luxury.

Because the refrigerator is full of cutting-edge medical research results, covering many different medical disciplines.

Xue Yan quickly picked up three bottles of clear glass solution—

I checked it against the light and confirmed that it was correct.

Then, he drew up the solution with a syringe—

The needle tip pierced Zeng Linglong's arm and was slowly pushed in.

As the medicine entered his bloodstream, Zeng Linglong's body trembled slightly, and his brows furrowed even more.

Then, he picked up the scalpel.

The scalpel danced in his hand as if it had a soul.

A light stroke was made over Zeng Linglong's several gunshot wounds—

Exactly two centimeters, no more, no less.

An incredible scene unfolded:

The wound barely bled.

Where the blade sliced, the muscle tissue separated neatly, as if cut by a precision instrument.

Xue Yan put down the scalpel and took out a fully automatic smart clip with a nano-camera from the instrument tray.

The clip was as thin as a hair, with a glimmer of light at the tip.

He inserted the clamp into the wound, deep into the muscle.

The clamp opens automatically and, guided by a nano-camera, searches for the bullet on its own.

In less than ten seconds, the clamp gripped the bullet, retracted on its own, and slowly pulled the bullet out.

"Clang." The bullet landed in the stainless steel disc with a crisp sound.

Zeng Linglong had three gunshot wounds, and Xue Yan removed the bullets in less than five minutes.

In addition, hemostasis, disinfection, and wound suturing are performed.

The surgery was thorough and precise, performed quickly and with great care.

He single-handedly performed a surgery in five minutes that would have been difficult for a team of surgical experts to complete in an hour.

And it is also artistic.

Every stitch was perfectly placed, and every knot was neatly tied.

Next, Xue Yan disinfected Zeng Linglong's other wounds.

Topical medication was used to quickly clear the blisters all over Zeng Linglong's body.

A satisfied smile finally appeared on Xue Yan's lips.

Then he stood up.

His gaze was both sacred and crazed as he stared at a sealed glass container.

That was his greatest scientific achievement in his lifetime.

It is also a medical miracle that has driven the world into a frenzy—

Novel blood cell fusion science.

DC blood cells, also known as commanders—antigen presenters.

It is responsible for identifying harmful cells and cancer cells.

This information is provided to T cells, activating the entire adaptive immune system.

NK cells, also known as special forces—direct killers.

As the first line of defense, it can directly identify and quickly eliminate harmful and cancerous cells without any instructions.

They have a clear division of labor in terms of tactics.

But they will work closely together—T cells and NK cells trained by DC cells will fight in tandem—

Together they can eliminate harmful cells, including cancer cells.

Furthermore, after being cultured in blood and then reinfused, it can enhance and strengthen the body's immunity.

Several years ago, the Poison Doctor began drawing blood from Zeng Linglong and cultivating and fusing it.

Several more years passed, and the Poison Doctor's medical research had reached a very mature stage.

He quickly drew blood from Zeng Linglong again—

Then take out a transparent glass tube from the glass container.

Inside was blood that had been cultivated for Zeng Linglong in the early stages.

Then, blood was transfused back into Zeng Linglong.

This is a long and cyclical treatment process, but it is also the safest and most comprehensive treatment plan.

After doing all this, Zeng Linglong lay on the bed, his body covered in tubes.

The electrocardiogram monitor emitted a regular "beep, beep" sound, which was particularly clear in the laboratory.

Xue Yan sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers resting on his wrist, her eyes closed, motionless.

Baroque leaned against the doorframe, a cigar dangling from his lips, but it wasn't lit.

Zeng Wen stood by the window, his eyes fixed on the hospital bed, on his cousin—

Staring at the hero who was still unconscious but whose presence gripped the entire nation.

Time passed by, second by second.

After an unknown amount of time, Xue Yan suddenly opened his eyes—

"The pulse has stabilized."

Baroque almost bit his cigar in half:

"What did you say?!"

"The pulse has stabilized."

Xue Yan stood up and stretched his stiff neck.

His voice remained calm, but a hint of barely concealed excitement flickered in his eyes:

"The toxicity has been brought under control; the most dangerous period has passed."

"Given his physical condition, recovery is only a matter of time."

Zeng Wen suddenly turned around and rushed to the bedside.

He looked down at Zeng Linglong's pale face.

Looking at those tightly furrowed brows, looking at those fingers that were still trembling slightly.

His eyes reddened.

Then, he quickly reported this good news to his grandfather, Zeng Rong.

The Zeng family's old residence in Beijing.

Zeng Rong sat in the armchair, the tea in front of him had gone cold, but he didn't touch it.

His eyes remained fixed on the phone on the table, second after second.

My phone vibrated.

He practically lunged at it, his fingers trembling as he pressed the answer button.

Zeng Wen's voice came through the receiver:

"Grandpa, Xiaolong's pulse has stabilized. The Poison Doctor said the most dangerous time has passed."

Zeng Rong remained silent.

He gripped his phone, his lips trembling, his throat bobbing—

Tears welled up in her cloudy eyes and streamed down her wrinkled face.

He cried and then laughed, like a child.

Then, he hung up the phone and dialed again—to call Old Liu, to Da Nei, and to his old friend Yan Fushan.

Everyone on the other end of the phone who heard the news breathed a long sigh of relief.

In the capital, many high-ranking elderly people have turned their gaze to the distance.

They are waiting, waiting for Zeng Linglong to wake up, waiting for the hero of the Dragon Kingdom to return.