Strongest Soldier King

The night sky was like ink, too dark to distinguish anything by hand. Luo Zheng lay quietly on a rooftop in the village like a cat, listening intently to the sounds around him and sensing the dangers nearby. His unease grew stronger, and his hunter's instinct told him he definitely couldn't move forward even half a step. However, his comrades were in deep trouble, and Luo Zheng couldn't just abandon them. He had no choice but to advance, trapped between a rock and a hard place as if tormented by an unforgiving, searing flame.

A few minutes later, Luo Zheng nimbly jumped to the opposite rooftop and, crouching low, moved forward a short distance. Suddenly, he spotted something moving in a dark corner of a courtyard not far away, which startled him. He dropped to the ground, alert, and scrutinized the area. All around him, it was silent, save for the gentle breeze. Nothing stirred in the courtyard.

Luo Zheng's expression darkened, and his brow furrowed tighter. In this pitch-black night, silence in the yard was not a good sign. The absence of even the sound of crickets indicated that someone was lurking nearby. Scared off, the crickets had fled. Luo Zheng crawled forward a few meters, finding a better vantage point from which he could more clearly see the situation below. He could vaguely make out someone in the shadowy corner of the wall, but the darkness made it uncertain.

The situation was eerie, and Luo Zheng didn't dare to move recklessly. He lay patiently on the ground, observing. Acting hastily without understanding the situation would be suicidal. Years of hunting experience taught him that the difference between the hunter and the prey lay in who could better camouflage, better conceal themselves, and silently hunt their opponent.

The wind grew stronger, and the thick clouds gradually drifted away, revealing the moonlight behind them that lit up the ancient village. The houses, black as ink, gradually became clearer, and visibility significantly increased. The shadowy corners of the courtyard became much brighter, revealing three fully armed men. Luo Zheng's face changed, a chilling intent flickering in his eyes, but he quickly restrained it and looked to the other side; several more people were lurking in the corners, their cold gun barrels pointing downward, each leaning against the wall with an indifferent expression.

"Hiss?" Luo Zheng inwardly gasped, surveying his surroundings. There were many similar courtyards, and since the enemy was already prepared, it was likely that other courtyards were also filled with similar ambushes. Ahead was a massive trap; jumping in would make survival difficult. Luo Zheng looked around the rooftops and didn't spot any ambushes, which made him suspicious. Could it be that the enemy intentionally let him infiltrate and then planned to encircle him from all sides?

Under the night moon, the center of the village was a gray blur that seemed like the gaping mouth of a primordial fierce beast, lying in wait for its prey. Luo Zheng, sensing a danger so intense it felt tangible, thought he could hear the savage laughter of the primordial fierce beast within the night. Anxious but unable to simply turn around and leave—the farmer was still waiting—he wished for a comrade to create a distraction and draw away the danger.

At that moment, Luo Zheng felt a pang of regret; it would have been better to have someone else come. But there was no medicine for regret in this world. Under the cool moonlight, not far from the courtyard, several people emerged from the shadows to speak quietly for a moment before leaving two to continue their vigil while the others went into the rooms.

"Eh?" Luo Zheng's mind raced, and lacking an ally to create a distraction, he decided he would do it himself. With that thought, he quickly moved forward, bending low and using both hands and feet, like a ghost drifting through the night sky, making not a sound, his speed so fast that he seemed like a passing breeze, silent yet traceable.

Luo Zheng reached the rooftop diagonally across and hid in a dark corner, cautiously peering out. The people hidden in the yard below were distinctly visible, two in the corner underneath, three in an outer corner of the courtyard wall, and five in the rooms. Luo Zheng carefully moved to the other side to check and noticed someone squatting in the corner below, smoking a cigarette. The alternating bright and dim glow of the cigarette was especially jarring in the darkness, as the wispy white smoke wafted eerily out of the shadows.

After ascertaining the armed situation in the room, Luo Zheng made his calculations. Once again confirming there were no oversights, he deftly pounced down from the rooftop, like a giant bird in the night, heading straight for the smoking man. Leaping from the three-meter-high roof exceeded the reaction time of normal thought processes.

The smoker was enjoying the irritation of tar and nicotine on his stomach, his eyes slightly closed, his body relaxed, not at all expecting an assault. He only felt a shadow engulfing him; before he could fully react, he felt a pain in his neck. Instinctively reaching to cover it, his mouth was grabbed and pinned against the wall.

Blood sprayed from his throat, forming an arc, as the man looked on in horror at the sudden darkness before him. Trying to struggle, he couldn't pry the attacker's hand apart. Attempts to scream were futile; no sound could be emitted. Instead, the blood flowed faster, an endless darkness enveloped him, his consciousness began to dissipate, and soon he knew nothing.

Killing was really simple for someone who had undergone special training.

Luo Zheng slowly lowered the body to the ground, searched it and found two grenades. He pocketed the grenades and surveyed his surroundings. The lurking enemies were undisturbed, still squatting in their posts, and there was no movement from the enemies inside the room. Under the moonlit night, Luo Zheng's cold gaze flickered as he melded into the darkness, took a running leap, pushed off the wall, and flipped back onto the rooftop.

After landing, Luo Zheng rolled twice and hid in the shadows. He listened intently for any noise in the vicinity. Hearing nothing, he quickly moved to another side, silently observing the two enemies lurking at the corner of the wall below, his cold eyes becoming even more murderous.

The two enemies, gathered together, were crouched down smoking, completely off guard. Luo Zheng glanced at another enemy lurking in the corner of the courtyard wall not far away, about six meters distant, obscured from view by the corner of the wall. He couldn't see the two people's location, and he couldn't help but smirk coldly.

Mercy to the prey is cruelty to oneself; these enemies were Luo Zheng's prey. In his left hand, an M9 combat knife, and in his right, a small knife used for cutting meat. The black combat knife didn't reflect light, exuding the chilling presence of the Death God under the moonlight, sending shivers down one's spine. Though small, the knife usually carried by East Yi Yun members to cut meat had often been passed down from ancestors and was a treasure, extremely sharp. The blade was seven inches long, double-edged, with a point that was lethal.

Prepared, Luo Zheng suddenly plunged downward, head over heels, a knife in each hand, like a Ghost in the night, swift, ferocious, and utterly silent. Before the two enemies below could react, the sharp blades were thrust into their foreheads slightly to the left and stirred violently.

The spot slightly to the left of the forehead is the nerve center of the brain. Once attacked, the connection between the neural thought processes and the body is severed. The two enemies didn't even have time for instinctual reaction and died instantly. Luo Zheng's body eerily flipped ninety degrees in mid-air, landing lightly without a sound. With a swift motion, he drew the knives from their bodies, looking at the two now thoroughly dead men, Luo Zheng's cold eyes under the moon became even colder.