Mercenaries, I Will Be King

Bang—

Andre's massive body fell backward, then smashed heavily onto the ring floor, producing a huge and dull thud.

Then...

There was no then.

Andre lay quietly on the ring floor, sleeping like a baby.

Nobody in the audience managed to see clearly what happened.

It seemed like the man from China had thrown a kick, and then Andre fell over.

"Kung Fu?"

The term from the East flashed through the minds of all the soldiers.

Actually, Song Heping had simply delivered a jaw-breaking kick with the fastest and most ferocious speed, hitting Andre directly in the lower jaw.

It was a killer move.

The human jaw is quite fragile; a fierce kick to the jaw could cause the head to jerk back violently, losing balance and resulting in a powerful shock to the spine that also causes the brain to suffer a severe concussion and leads to unconsciousness.

This kick relied on the explosive power of the hip flexor and quadriceps muscles, reaching top speeds of over forty miles per hour when it hit the opponent's jaw and throat.

The key to a jaw-breaking kick lies in speed and force—high speed lets it catch the opponent off guard and difficult to dodge, while the force ensures the opponent goes down with one hit.

Andre's body was all muscle. Song Heping had gauged that trying to inflict instant shock or unconsciousness by hitting any other part of his body was nearly impossible.

Only the head and neck.

The once noisy bar had suddenly turned as quiet as a morgue in a hospital; even the music had been stopped, and the room was so silent that one could clearly hear every breath.

Yevgeny was so shocked that he temporarily dropped his reflective hand and rubbed his eyes twice.

Donald had been about to pop a chip into his mouth, but it stopped at his lips, unable to go any further.

After a long while, Donald tossed aside the chip in his hand, came back to his senses, and asked Thomas, "Is it over?"

Thomas nodded and said, "It seems so..."

At last, as if he himself were in a dream, he asked Donald, "Did that guy just use one kick? One kick to knock down Andre?"

Donald instinctively nodded, "It seems so..."

Up in the ring, the referee from Country M came to check on Andre and found he was still alive.

He wanted to count down, but quickly realized there was no need since Andre was already unconscious.

"Song, wins!"

He stood up, took Song Heping's hand, and raised it high.

Song Heping stood in the center of the ring like a god.

Below, a group of dazed soldiers from Country M stood gawking.

"Did you receive training in the Special Forces?"

As Song Heping stepped off the ring, a bald Yevgeny couldn't help but ask.

Because that kind of kick wasn't something just anyone could deliver.

Song Heping candidly nodded and said, "Yes."

"Familiar with firearms?" Yevgeny asked.

Song Heping replied, "Shouldn't be a problem."

Yevgeny continued to press without beating around the bush, "What firearms are you expert with and what specialty?"

Song Heping thought for a moment and said, "All-around."

Yevgeny paused for a moment, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but still, he extended his large hand, "Welcome to join my team. Can you report to Zone 11, B-12 by noon tomorrow?"

Yevgeny's tone had become very courteous and gentle.

"I can."

"All right, see you tomorrow!"

After Song Heping had left, the short-haired, blond woman walked up beside Yevgeny, watching Song Heping's retreating figure, she said to Yevgeny, "Boss, I don't like this guy."

Yevgeny asked, "Just because he knocked out Andre?"

The short-haired, blond woman replied, "I think he's bragging. An all-around warrior? Outrageously arrogant. This kind of overconfident person could get us all killed on a mission."

Yevgeny said, "Yuliy, are you questioning my judgment?"

Yuliy hastily apologized, "I wouldn't dare, boss."

Song Heping and Old Demon finally returned to their own shop.

They didn't borrow any money, but they made some.

The first thing Old Demon did was take out the ten thousand US dollars he had won and handed it to Song Heping.

"Take it."

Song Heping didn't dare to be polite and took the money, counted out five thousand US dollars, and handed the rest back to Old Demon.

"This is your rightful share."

Old Demon was taken aback. In his view, the money was earned by Song Heping and had nothing to do with him.

Seeing that Old Demon didn't reach out to take the money, Song Heping pushed the stack of bills forward and continued, "Blood brothers keep clear accounts. You own half of the capital, this is what you deserve."

Old Demon swallowed his saliva.

He needed money too.

The business this time was a loss, and he was in a mess too.

It's just that his family wasn't as poor and he wasn't as desperate as Song Heping.

Although he hadn't known Song Heping for long, through the months they spent together, he could tell that Lao Song had one great quality—reliability.

He didn't talk much, but he was utterly dependable.

"You see..."

Ultimately, Old Demon still reached out and took the stack of green bills, his lips involuntarily breaking into a smile, revealing a trace of happiness.

Five thousand US dollars, a small windfall, was certainly delightful.

It just felt like it came too easily, almost unrealistically so.

"I..."

He hesitated to speak.

Old Demon felt somewhat guilty.

Initially, it was he who had approached Song Heping to partner up and make a fortune in Illiguo.

Now, the fortune hadn't materialized, and Song Heping had invested all his savings and even borrowed money, incurring a huge debt, with the investment turning to ashes.

Although the attack was unexpected, his own departure from this place felt somewhat like deserting in the face of the enemy.

Song Heping noticed Old Demon's thoughts and consoled him, "Success lies with man, fortune with heaven. You owe me nothing, don't look so somber. You should leave tomorrow; this place indeed isn't safe. You're different from me; there's no need to risk your life here."

Song Heping actually had nothing against Old Demon.

Old Demon might act timidly, but he was excellent at doing business. He personally managed the store's supply, transportation, and accounting without ever causing any issues.

In these times, Old Demon was considered an honest person.

With that, there wasn't much left to say between them.

After all, life is like that; be it family or friends, no one can accompany you forever. Sometimes, as you go along, you just part ways—there is no feast that doesn't come to an end.

As Old Demon went to pack his luggage, Song Heping also packed up his things.

His luggage was simple, a few cheap jeans and casual clothes, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of LOWA tactical boots.

The tactical boots, bought in Kuwait, were quite expensive. He wouldn't have bought them if not for considering the need in a warzone like Illiguo to do business.

After packing, he checked the time.

It was already past ten o'clock at night.

Calculating the time difference, it should be three in the morning back in China.

Song Heping decided to call his younger sister the next morning. School had just started, and he had previously sent some living expenses to his sister and brother, but the earliest debt of 5000 yuan he owed to relatives was due next month. With these five thousand US dollars on hand, he could send back two thousand US dollars; part of it for debt repayment and part as living expenses.

The life of someone in debt is just that desperate.

It's like wearing a jacket full of holes: patch up one area only to find another tear, leaks everywhere, anxiety at every turn.

Song Heping also wanted his younger siblings to lead better lives.

What constitutes a good life?

Not worrying about food or clothing, walking down the street feeling everything is affordable.

With the parents gone early, whether his younger siblings could lead a good life depended entirely on him, the eldest brother playing the role of father.

As Song Heping thought about his family, he lay down on the spring bed in the store and fell into a deep sleep.