Strongest Soldier King

Grenades rained down like a deathly shadow, screaming ferociously through the air. Luo Zheng, seeing this, felt as if his head had exploded. He desperately crawled forward, pushing off with his uninjured leg, his body lunging into a crevice beneath a large boulder. The gap was large enough for a person to hide, with overlapping rocks creating a small fissure above—an opening not large but sufficient to see the situation on the cliff.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The sound of countless explosions erupted. Luo Zheng curled up tightly, hiding in the crevice of the rock wall, covering his ears with his hands, his mouth agape. Still, his head buzzed from the powerful sound waves of the blasts, leaving him somewhat dazed. Thankfully, the explosions had little impact on the surrounding boulders.

After the sound of explosions subsided, Luo Zheng, shaking his foggy head until he felt more alert, angrily grabbed his gun and stretched it out through the crevice, aiming at the visible enemies on the cliff. Thoughts of revenge flooded his mind, a fierce killing intent concentrating in the bullets, whistling away.

"Swish, swish, swish!" Luo Zheng rapidly fired five shots. There were too many enemies; there was no need for careful aiming. With each shot, he just slightly adjusted the gun's direction. The five bullets formed a rhythmic sequence of notes, dancing, screaming, bringing down five enemies on the cliff, and tearing open huge bloody cavities.

The gunfire startled the enemies on the cliff; they all retreated. With no target left in his sniper scope, Luo Zheng let out an exasperated breath. Anticipating another grenade assault with even more accuracy, he set down his gun and swiftly drew his M9 bayonet, cutting his clothes to tear off two pieces of cloth.

The bayonet nimbly sliced off two cloth strips. Luo Zheng quickly stuffed them into his ears, just as he heard the whirring sound of more grenades overhead. He hurriedly opened his mouth wide while binding another strip of cloth around the wound on his leg, pressing down on his knees, clenching his teeth, and exerting force.

"Aah!" Luo Zheng cried out. Setting a bone was routine for a Hunter, but the pain was terrifying. He managed to set his knee bone amidst excruciating pain, his ghastly scream mingling with the sound of continuous explosions creating a particularly eerie atmosphere. Luo Zheng passed out from the agony.

On the cliff, another volley of grenades rained down, wreaking havoc in the vicinity. Earth and stones flew, and the dry leaves on the ground began to burn. Seeing the flames, the people atop the cliff ceased their assault. Hundreds of grenades concentrated within a small area ensured no one could survive.

The fire began to spread but was limited to the dry leaves on the ground. The towering lush trees had dense canopies that blocked out the sunlight, leaving only the bare roots visible on the ground where there were no shrubs. The fire continued to spread but was not intense, gradually dying down. However, the people on the cliff did not leave. They discussed among themselves, and soon a large group of East Yi Yun members departed, leaving only a few behind. After a while, some people found a place that was easier to climb and began descending.

The cliff, nearly a hundred meters high, was not easy to climb down without tools. Quickly, a piercing scream resounded as someone lost their grip and fell. The others climbing were shocked, hesitating, afraid to move. Someone above shouted a few commands and fired a barrage down the cliff, frightening the climbers into continuing their perilous descent.

The sound of gunfire woke Luo Zheng, who instinctively reached for his gun. Finding nothing on his person, he was startled awake and only then realized his sniper rifle was beside him. Snatching it up, he peered through the crevice of the rocks and saw someone climbing down the cliff. A surge of rage engulfed him; the enemy was hell-bent on not leaving anyone alive, dead or otherwise.

In his fury, Luo Zheng realized his leg didn't hurt as much as before, perhaps it was numb, but he didn't care. He stretched out the barrel of his gun and aimed at the visible enemies on the cliff. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, he remembered something, grabbed his AK-47 from his back, checked the magazine—it was full. He took aim, his pale face filled with icy murder.

"Da da da!" The AK-47 roared. With a firing rate of 600 rounds per minute, a muzzle velocity of 710 meters per second, and an effective range of three hundred meters, it would take just a tenth of a second to hit targets on the nearly hundred-meter cliff. The 30-round magazine could be emptied in just 3 seconds.

In those three seconds, the enemies on the cliff, caught off guard, were unable to react. A dozen men emitted one piercing scream after another as they fell from the cliff. The screams echoed through the canyon, chilling to the bone. The enemy climbers on the cliff were too petrified to move, staring dumbfounded at their plummeting comrades.

By now, Luo Zheng had switched back to his sniper rifle. The icy barrel took aim at the boasting foes, roaring with towering rage, "Whiz whiz whiz!" The bullets, forceful in their kinetic energy, pierced the space with the screech of death and instantly buried themselves in their targets, mercilessly sending them falling from the cliff.

The screams mixed with the sniper fire, reverberating through the canyon, leaving the people on the cliff unable to advance or retreat. They became sitting ducks, and for Luo Zheng, driven by hatred, they were almost too easy to target. The power of his vengeance put him in a trance-like state, his gun as if it were alive and pulsating with energy. Each bullet, filled with overwhelming hate and boundless fury, tore to pieces every visible enemy.

The climbers on the cliff dropped like rag dolls, none surviving the fall into the forest below. Unable to find any more targets, Luo Zheng's bloodshot eyes grew more cautious and calm. His pale face was covered in cold sweat as he carefully observed his surroundings for a while longer. Finding no new targets, he finally put down his gun and leaned against the stone wall, panting heavily.

Having dispatched over thirty enemies in one go, his towering anger found some release, and his emotions gradually subsided. Luo Zheng looked at the wound on his leg, his mood filled with sorrow and rage against the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group to the utmost degree. The memory of that enemy who had avoided his sniper shot floated in his mind—a tall figure, a resolute face full of icy murderous intent. He silently swore that, given another chance, he would kill him.

Resting his head against the stone wall, he sighed, a hint of bitterness in his cold eyes. His injuries were severe this time, and it was uncertain whether he could still wear his country's olive-green military uniform in the future, let alone seek revenge. What's more, the enemy was formidable, becoming alert just as they were locked onto. Still, he lacked strength. If he had been a little faster, a little stronger, he might have been able to take the shot, to extract revenge. It was a pity.

Luo Zheng's gaze swept the area, finding no sign of the enemy. His nerves finally relaxed—significant blood loss coupled with the desperate fight had drained his energy and physical strength considerably. His muscles, tense until now, began to ache, his eyelids as heavy as mountains, and his consciousness started to blur. Eventually, his eyelids closed heavily, and he passed out.