Strongest Soldier King

"In literature, there is no first; in martial arts, there is no second." As soon as everyone heard Luo Zheng say that the other team was the strongest among all the competitors, they immediately felt dissatisfied and their gazes toward those few people changed. The person who was speaking also noticed the anomaly, his face turning an iron blue as he stared at Luo Zheng, disgruntledly asking, "Who are you?"

"You don't know who I am? I'm just that filler you were talking about." Luo Zheng said with a smile, his face indifferent. Seeing that his adversary's eyes were bulging with anger, he continued, "What, are you mad? Want to hit me? Then come on, I'm just a filler anyway. It's not like I want to go to the battlefield. If you've got the guts, hit me. No? Coward." Towards the end, Luo Zheng's expression turned unfriendly, his words dripping with sarcasm.

The opponent's face turned livid with visible veins, his fists clenched, but he was held back by his companions. Private brawling would disqualify them from further competition. Luo Zheng knew this rule well, hence his brazen provocation, calculating that the other party wouldn't dare fight him. After all, everyone knew he was just a filler. No team would bother clashing with a mere filler—it simply wasn't worth it.

This group came in haughtily and left in embarrassment. The surroundings quieted down, but Luo Zheng noticed that people were still stealing glances at him, their expressions somewhat peculiar. Luo Zheng couldn't be bothered with them and lowered his head to eat. Suddenly, the scholar said, "Brother, I see it now. You're just pretending to be weak. Tell me, did you reveal your sharpness just now because the competition mode changed and you don't want to pretend anymore?"

Luo Zheng just chuckled awkwardly and continued eating, but he could feel that his teammates' gazes were beginning to change. That was exactly the effect Luo Zheng wanted. He quickly swallowed his last bite of food, and after waiting a moment for everyone to finish, they all tacitly headed outside.

Back in the tent, everyone rested briefly before all falling into a deep sleep. At eight o'clock sharp, everyone got up, dressed neatly, and assembled outside, ready for orders. Eight WZ-8 transport helicopters had already started up, their propellers roaring. Everyone was thoroughly searched, and the team leader was given a satellite transmitter, the kind that could only be used once. Using it meant quitting the competition, and the organizing committee would send a rescue team.

After boarding, the helicopter took off. Everyone sat inside the cabin, resting. Luo Zheng carefully considered their situation. Apart from their camo uniforms and military boots, they had no weapons, no intelligence, no maps, no food, and they didn't even know where they would be air-dropped, let alone the location of the competition's organizing committee or how to find their way back. He couldn't help but look out the window, memorizing the terrain surrounding them.

It was too dark outside to see clearly. Luo Zheng vaguely guessed that the committee's camp might not be far from the national border. Too far, and it wouldn't be easy to rescue participants who called for help; too close, and it might easily be discovered. Perhaps just beyond the mountain ridge below them was the neighboring country. Unable to confirm, Luo Zheng could only memorize the topography for now. During the journey, everyone remained silent, lost in their thoughts.

About two hours later, a red light flashed in the cabin—a signal for landing. Estimating from the WZ-8's speed, Luo Zheng figured they had flown at least five hundred kilometers in these two hours. Considering the linear flight path, if they had to walk, accounting for detours and crossing mountains, the distance could be nearly a thousand kilometers. To return would take about a month at an average daily march of thirty kilometers. Without weapons, food, or support, and having to fight terrorists, who could safely return in a month's time? Even surviving in the wild for a month was not something ordinary people could accomplish. This competition was indeed no simple matter.

Luo Zheng glanced at everyone; their faces no longer held their usual calm composure but were more serious. After waiting three minutes, the green light in the cabin flashed. The scholar leaned over to look down, pressed the door control button, and the cabin door opened. Dropping a rope, the helicopter then steadied itself in a hover.

"Quick, Eastern Yi terrorists, here I come." The scholar grabbed the rope and jumped down, skillfully rappelling to the ground. The others followed suit. After everyone had descended, Luo Zheng also grabbed the rope and jumped. Mid-air, he noticed the utter darkness around them, likely in the midst of wilderness. Once on the ground, the pilot retracted the rope, performed a graceful turn to position the aircraft nose downward, gave a thumbs-up as a blessing, and then flew back.

The competition officially began at this moment; now, they could only rely on themselves. They spread out a bit, forming a circle, awaiting the scholar's commands. Regardless of acknowledgment, the scholar was the commanding officer as per the official orders, and everyone chose to trust him. Observing his surroundings, Luo Zheng was surrounded by trees, clueless about their location. This uncertainty was maddening.

"Brothers, our homeland lies to the east; let's head east," the scholar whispered.

Without objections, it was imperative to ascertain their location as soon as possible by asking locals. As for the dangers, they were already anticipated. They came here to fight enemies and did not need to avoid conflicts. The scholar took the initiative, speaking softly, "Disperse in combat formation, keep your eyes peeled. The helicopter's arrival might have alerted the enemy. A large group of them could already be heading this way. We need to leave quickly."

"Yes," everyone responded. As well-trained Special Forces with plenty of combat experience, they naturally understood the scholar's warning. They spread out, moving cautiously forward. It was too dark, with only hazy moonlight making it unsuitable for travel, but they all knew they had to move quickly to avoid being surrounded by the enemy.

In unfamiliar perilous conditions, the best strategy was to move far, stay away from dangers, familiarize with the environment, gather intelligence, and then make further decisions based on the situation. Luo Zheng watched the dark woods around them warily, feeling as though he was back in his hunting days, every cell of his body alert to any potential dangers. Without weapons, he had only his hands to rely on.

About an hour later, they reached a hillside. Seeing a "fire dragon" heading their direction, they moved closer and discovered it was a group of armed men, nearly a hundred strong. Without weapons and in the darkness, they chose to avoid confrontation and hid in a dense forest to rest. After the group hurried past, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The gardener whispered, "Brothers, without weapons, I'm feeling uneasy. What about I go back and grab some weapons?"

Used to fighting with high-tech weaponry, suddenly being unarmed made everyone uncomfortable. They looked to the scholar, who whispered back, "Not a bad idea, but that would expose us. I suggest we hold off for now. The urgent matter is to find out where we are. If a battle starts, at least we won't be walking blind. The journey home might be nearly a thousand kilometers from here. We can't afford to take the wrong path."

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