Strongest Soldier King

The night was deep, and the guests had all gone to sleep. The two of them made their way to the room door without incident, one on each side, concealing themselves against the wall. The boss looked at Luo Zheng with a questioning gaze. Luo Zheng thought for a moment, signaled the boss not to move, and seeing that the room diagonally opposite was ajar and dark inside, unlikely to be occupied, he pushed the door open, quickly grabbed a pillow, and came out, signaling the stunned boss to keep quiet.

With his back against the wall, Luo Zheng quickly took off his jacket, wrapped it around the pillow, then used a smart card to open the door. With a click, the lock disengaged. Luo Zheng pushed the door open and threw the pillow inside, creating the illusion of someone entering. His body tensed, he stood guard with utmost seriousness.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Three shots, in a triangular formation, came flying, bursting the pillow.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Luo Zheng returned fire, gauging his target's position by sound, shooting at the corner where the assailant was hiding. The bullets carried Luo Zheng's fury and concern as they tore through the air, and a muffled grunt came from the room. Luo Zheng pressed against the outside wall, not daring to rashly enter without understanding the situation, listening closely for any sounds from inside.

After waiting a while and hearing no movement from the room, the situation seemed bizarre. If one's cover is blown, they should either counterattack like mad or at least run away. Luo Zheng peered quickly and withdrew back to the side of the door without spotting any suspicious figures. He shot a glance at the boss, who understood, went into the room across the way, grabbed another pillow, wrapped it with his clothes, and handed it to Luo Zheng.

Luo Zheng peeked again, seeing no target, who must've stayed hidden around the corner. He cautiously entered the room, throwing the pillow forward, and as someone opened fire from the corner, Luo Zheng dashed forward like lightning. Taking advantage of the moment the attacker's attention shifted to the pillow, Luo Zheng's cold barrel quickly locked onto his target and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!" At a distance of four or five meters, the bullet struck accurately on the assailant's palm, causing it to explode. The handgun clattered to the side. Luo Zheng appeared, his gun aimed at the attacker – a middle-aged Western man, who had also taken a bullet to his leg, probably from earlier, which explained why he hadn't run or attacked. Luo Zheng couldn't understand why there was only one person, but now wasn't the time to ponder. His expression chilling, he delivered a flying kick.

"Bang!" The sound of a shoe connecting with a face resonated dully. With no more than a meter separating them, the injured man couldn't dodge Luo Zheng's vengeful strike. What Luo Zheng hadn't expected was that the man wouldn't be knocked unconscious right away, instead rolling to the side. A thought flashed in his mind: This one's a pro.

Facing a pro, Luo Zheng never held back, nor did he underestimate his opponent. He followed with another forceful kick, hitting the already wounded spot. The man, in his panic, couldn't dodge and let out a miserable scream, blood flowing more freely. Luo Zheng didn't let up; he pounced like lightning, stabbing the M9 combat knife into the man's other thigh without hesitation, dexterously grabbed his cheek, and smashed the butt of his gun onto the back of the man's head, knocking him out cold, leaving the boss agape, secretly glad he had chosen to cooperate and not resist. Was that not too merciless?

"Please close the door." Having subdued the man, Luo Zheng took a breath of relief and ordered coldly, while checking the man's mouth. He found another poison tooth, removed the combat knife, and hooked the poison tooth out, then cut up the bedsheet to tie the man's limbs securely before starting to search him.

Beyond a gun, three magazines, and some cash, there was nothing. Luo Zheng felt annoyed. He revived the man by pinching his philtrum. This time, Luo Zheng acted wisely, not threatening with the knife but simply looking at the man coldly and saying, "Your wounds are deep and with the rate you're bleeding out, you'll be dead in half an hour. During this process, you will see how you die, which is quite interesting. Savor it slowly."

Watching blood flow out of the body is an excruciating process, a torment that cannot be resisted. Being tortured and unable to bear it, Luo Zheng knew these guys were professionally trained and would not easily give in. If they didn't comply, they might spout nonsense to disrupt his judgment. Usual interrogation methods were futile; only by attacking their willpower, making them feel fear, would work.

"Use whatever means you have." the other coldly stated, unmoved.

"There are no special means. I can slow the speed of your blood loss, dragging out the process of death. Life isn't easy, and it's good to take a few more looks at this beautiful world." Luo Zheng said with a cold laugh, tearing a strip of cloth to bandage the other's hand. It wasn't that Luo Zheng was compassionate, but prolonging the process of death was even more effective at destroying a person's will. This despair of nearly dying but not quite doing so was unbearable for most people.

As expected, the man's face changed dramatically. Death was not frightening; what was truly terrifying was watching yourself die, and even more so was the elongation of this process. The prolonged fear of death was unbearable, similar to how many terminal patients choose suicide, a desperate human's choice to avoid enduring this agonizing process.

"Just kill me." the man's face subtly shifted, as he shouted loudly.

"Kill you? Wishful thinking. You should know that sometimes death is a luxury, harder to achieve than living. You've had professional training, and interrogation won't yield results. Since that's the case, it's better to have some fun. There are three hours until dawn, but I'm sure you won't see tomorrow's sun. You've got at most two hours. If you can hold on for two hours without dying, I'll grant you a swift end." Luo Zheng said coldly.

"You're a devil. We won't let you go." the other panicked, shouting.

"Is that so? I couldn't ask for more. I've been having trouble finding them. That's perfect." Luo Zheng sneered, unmoved. Anyone who dared to kidnap Lan Xue must face the consequences. For these people, Luo Zheng had only hatred. Enemies must die; sparing them would only leave troubles behind. With mortal enmity established, there was no room for turning back.

"Devil, dammit, what do you want to know?" the other said in panic, not doubting Luo Zheng's resolve for a second. A professionally trained assassin knew very well that once blood loss reached a certain level, the brain's consciousness would dissipate, out of control. At that point, Luo Zheng could ask anything and get an answer. It was better to seek a swift end.

"Good, where are my people?" Luo Zheng asked coldly.

"Why don't you ask who we are? Do you know who you've provoked?" the other retorted angrily, his face full of coldness. Seeing that Luo Zheng remained unmoved, indifferent, the man was taken aback and continued: "I don't know much either. You should know our way of operating. Each person does what they need to do, knows what they need to know. The rest can't be asked, nor is it necessary to know, or death comes even faster."

Luo Zheng truly didn't know these details and continued to demand coldly, "Where is your headquarters?"