"Every twenty people in a group, act according to plan, move out."
At Randy's command, the team of two hundred split up instantly, vanishing into the dense jungle edge like ghosts.
Pirate ambush circle, command post.
This was originally a natural cavern, now transformed into a temporary headquarters.
Over a thousand burly men wearing ragged pirate outfits but holding AK-9 were staring intently at the intersection ahead.
"Damn it, are these americans turtles? Why haven't they arrived yet?"
A bearded pirate leader cursed irritably.
An adjutant beside him asked with some concern.
"General Davidov, is it possible the other side won't take this path?"
"Impossible."
The pirate leader known as Davidov glared at him.
"General Yuri just sent word confirming they've landed. Besides this road, the sides are all ninety-degree cliffs. Do they have wings to fly over? Or can they scale a several-hundred-meter precipice with their bare hands?"
"True."
The adjutant nodded.
"This is the only entrance to the flank. Everywhere else is a dead end that even monkeys can't climb. I don't believe the Americans can scale it while carrying heavy weapons."
"Hmph, don't be careless."
Davidov slapped the table.
"Have the First Battalion send out a hundred men to keep a close eye on the surroundings. Don't let those yellow monkeys escape. If you see anyone, don't kill them yet; aim for their legs."
"Yes, General."
Beneath the precipice on the left.
Randy led forty soldiers, looking up at the ninety-degree cliff that even apes would find difficult to climb.
"Earth-type ability, build a ladder."
Randy said flatly.
"Understood."
A stocky soldier stepped forward, pressing his hands against the rock wall as energy surged within him.
Rumble.
The rock wall, originally as smooth as a mirror, actually began to writhe as if it had come to life. Every twenty meters, a solid rock platform protruded from the wall out of thin air, like giant steps extending all the way to the summit.
"Go."
Without any run-up, Randy bent his legs slightly and exerted a sudden burst of power.
Bang!
The ground trembled slightly as he catapulted upward, jumping directly onto the first twenty-meter-high step.
Then, with a few more leaps, his figure ascended the cliff rapidly like a nimble ape, vanishing into the clouds in an instant.
"Follow him."
Seeing this, the soldiers below also displayed their skills. For those who had taken the Tier 2 Gene Medicine, this height was practically like walking on level ground.
In less than five minutes, all forty people had scaled the precipice that the Russian people considered an impassable chasm, appearing on the high ground behind the ambush circle.
"Captain, someone's coming ahead."
Davidson, who was in charge of scouting, suddenly gave a low-voiced warning.
"A patrol of twenty, fully armed."
"Disperse."
Randy waved his hand.
Forty figures instantly vanished from the spot.
Some soldiers exerted force with their feet, darting directly to the tops of trees over ten meters high like geckos, blending into the dense foliage.
Some Earth-type Awakened Ones directly activated their abilities, their bodies sinking into the ground as if entering water, leaving only a pair of eyes to observe from the grass.
In the blink of an eye, the clearing that had been full of people became empty, as if no one had ever been there.
A few minutes later.
"FUCK, what on earth are these americans dawdling for?"
A pirate patrol of twenty came walking over, grumbling and cursing.
The squad leader leading them had a blade of grass in his mouth and a relaxed expression, not even bothering to hold his gun level; in his view, this mission was practically a vacation on the public dime.
Thousands of regular troops plus the elite Spetsnaz Team against two hundred American soldiers? This wasn't an exercise; it was a slaughter.
They walked all the way to the edge of the cliff and poked their heads out to look down.
"Huh? The assault boats are all on the beach, but where are the people?"
The squad leader frowned at the empty beach below.
"Could they have all burrowed into the ground?"
"Maybe they're hiding in the woods below. Let's go back and report."
With that, he turned and led the team back.
However, the nightmare began at that very moment.
The last pirate in the line was walking when he suddenly felt the sky above him darken.
Before he could look up, a thick vine dropped down like a python, instantly wrapping around his neck and coiling to gag his mouth.
"Mmph!!!"
He struggled desperately, but was powerless against that terrifying strength; he was hoisted directly into the canopy mid-air without making a single sound.
The teammates ahead were still chatting and laughing, completely unaware that one person was missing.
They walked another dozen meters.
The second-to-last pirate was about to step onto a patch of grass that looked quite solid.
Pfft.
The ground suddenly became soft like quicksand; his foot missed its mark, and he instantly fell in.
At the moment he fell, the soil above closed automatically, as if nothing had happened.
This patrol was like being swallowed by the forest; as they walked, their numbers dwindled.
Until finally, only the leading squad leader remained.
"Hey, Boris, you think these americans..."
He felt the surroundings were eerily quiet and instinctively wanted to turn back to speak with the brother behind him.
However, the moment he turned around, he froze completely.
His pupils contracted violently.
In the empty forest behind him, the nineteen fully armed brothers who had been following him had vanished as if they had evaporated into thin air.
"This... this..."
A chill rose within him.
"No good, there's definitely an ambush."
Survival instinct made him react instantly, and he turned to run.
However, just as he turned, he felt a cold object pressed against the back of his head.
It was a gun barrel.
"If I were you, I wouldn't move."
A cold voice sounded in his ear; although it was in english, he understood the murderous intent within it.
Cold sweat instantly soaked the squad leader's back; he tremblingly released his gun and slowly raised his hands.
"Turn around."
The muzzle of the gun in Randy's hand was pressed firmly against the back of the squad leader's head, his tone brook no argument.
The throat of the sole remaining pirate squad leader bobbed as he stiffly and slowly turned around.
When he saw the cold Oriental faces in black special operations uniforms before him, his pupils dilated instantly, his eyes filled with unbelievable shock.
"Ah... Americans?"
He couldn't fathom how, behind that precipice regarded as an impassable chasm, these people had appeared here like ghosts.
"Come out."
Randy said flatly to the empty jungle around him.
As his voice fell, figures appeared from the tree canopy, the grass, and even from beneath the originally level ground.
Thirty-nine American soldiers, each fully armed and with cold eyes, stood silently around the squad leader.
"My God..."
The team leader's legs went weak, and he nearly fell to his knees.
These people had been hiding right beside him this whole time?
Just a few meters, even a few centimeters away?
Yet he and his subordinates had been as blind as bats, completely unaware.
"Damn it... damn it..."
His heart was filled with fear and despair.
"We were actually the prey..."
"You from Russia?"
Randy sized him up and down, asking with a faint, mocking smile.
"No! No! I'm not from Russia, I'm a native."
The team leader hurriedly denied it, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.
"I'm a pirate, I'm a free pirate."
"Heh."
A sneer curled at the corner of Randy's mouth.
"When you were chatting just now, weren't you calling yourselves the joint Spetsnaz Team every other sentence? What, not owning up to it now?"
The team leader's face froze, only then realizing that their previous conversation had been overheard long ago.
Since he couldn't keep up the act, he simply stopped pretending, and his expression turned ferocious.
"Since you heard everything, then you damned animal, why don't you hurry up and release me? There's a regular army of thousands on this island, plus the elite Spetsnaz Team. How could you mere two hundred people possibly win? If you know what's good for you..."
Thud!
A dull sound rang out.
Expressionless, Randy slammed the butt of his rifle hard against the back of the man's head.
The team leader's eyes rolled back, and without even a groan, he slumped limply to the ground.
"So much nonsense."
Randy shook his hand and then ordered the surrounding soldiers.
"Dig a bigger hole and bury all these guys in the sand so they don't get in the way."
"Yes, sir."
That stocky Earth-type warrior grinned and pressed both hands onto the ground.
Rumble... The ground parted like ripples on water, quickly forming a vast pit five meters deep and incredibly wide.
"Throw them in."
Like tossing out trash, the soldiers threw all twenty pirates—who had been captured and tied up tightly—into the large pit.
Most of these people were still unconscious, only able to let out muffled whimpers.
"Spetsnaz is it."
The Earth-type warrior clapped his hands together.
A large amount of soil instantly backfilled, leveling the pit.
However, he controlled it precisely, intentionally leaving several hidden ventilation holes leading to the surface to ensure they wouldn't suffocate, though any dream of crawling out was just that—a dream.
"Done."
Looking at the now-level ground, Randy nodded with satisfaction.
"Organize equipment, check ammunition."
His gaze sharpened.
"Next is the real hunt. Close in on the Command Center. Move quietly; don't alert the big fish who are still waiting for us to walk into their trap."
"Yes, sir!"
Unnamed Pacific Island, main beach.
At the same time, Russia's Spetsnaz Team had also successfully landed.
The rubber boats they were riding in surged directly onto the sand, and over a hundred fully armed soldiers quickly assembled.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Junior waved his arm, directing the team to advance rapidly.
Along the way, they were practically unimpeded. After all, the so-called pirates were actually their own people; both sides had communicated beforehand, and the defenses along this path were mere window dressing.
They charged ahead, heading straight for the island's flank.
"Report, Captain."
A team member said, looking at the GPS in his hand.
"Another kilometer or so and we'll reach the designated ambush point on the flank coastline. General Davidov's troops should be waiting there."
"Very good."
Junior nodded, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes.
"Our mission this time is to fully cooperate with General Davidov and ensure all two hundred US soldiers are taken down! Not a single one is to escape!"
He instinctively touched his chest.
For this special military exercise, the higher-ups had issued a strict order: no one was allowed to wear any form of body camera or recording equipment.
The purpose was clear: this was a trap, a dirty ambush.
As long as there were no video records, once the US soldiers were captured, even if US protested, they could flatly deny that the Russian military was directly involved in the combat and shift all the blame onto those brutal pirates.
As for evidence? The dead and the captives have no voice.
"Humph, americans, are you ready to face hell?"
Vasily sneered and waved his hand to order.
"Accelerate the advance and outflank their rear."
A slightly plump orange cat crouched on a tree branch, its amber eyes watching the Spetsnaz Team marching rapidly below.
Its vision transcended space, transmitting all the images clearly before Randy's eyes.
"Heh."
In the command room, Randy looked at the self-righteous Spetsnaz members on the screen, a playful smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
"The Spetsnaz Team is at the Flerken's position, flanking your position at full speed."
He pressed the communicator and issued the command in a calm tone.
"Randy, prepare to close the net. Since they want to play dirty, let's put on a good show for them and wipe out all these pirates."
"Yes, Chief."
Randy's voice came through the headset, tinged with a hint of excitement.
He immediately turned and made a gesture to the team members behind him.
"Brothers, the fish have taken the bait. Everyone, gather around me and prepare the ambush."
Soon, in addition to those responsible for guarding the pirates, another twenty soldiers arrived, making a total of sixty elite squad members quickly assembled.
Based on the real-time positioning provided by the Flerken, the group moved through the jungle like ghosts, arriving at the Spetsnaz Team's inevitable path ahead of time.
"Leave five people to put on a show with me."
Randy looked at the somewhat open woodland ahead, a trace of cunning flashing in his eyes.
"The rest of you, scatter and hide. Remember, you must let the other side strike first, and the whole process must be recorded. We need to hold the moral high ground while we turn these pirates into sieves."
"Understood."
The team members understood perfectly and scattered instantly, using the surrounding bushes, tree canopies, and even the soil as cover, vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye.
Only Randy and four agile soldiers remained, standing boldly in the middle of the path, even intentionally messing up their equipment to look as if they had just broken through after a fierce battle.
"Alright."
Randy patted the dust off himself and said to the remaining four.
"Look toward the direction of the pirates, pretend we're observing the enemy situation and preparing for a rear-flank sneak attack."
The four nodded and immediately entered character.
They stood with their backs to the direction the Spetsnaz Team was coming from, their assault rifles pointed warily toward the pirate camp ahead, their expressions focused and tense.
"Captain, they're here."
Davidson suddenly reminded him in a low voice.
Even without turning his head, he sensed the rapidly approaching footsteps through the subtle vibrations carried by the wind.
"Very good, everyone get ready!"
A few minutes later.
Spetsnaz Team Commander Junior was advancing at full speed with over a hundred men.
Suddenly, he abruptly raised his hand, signaling for the team to halt.
"That is..."
Squinting his eyes, Junior looked at the five figures about a hundred meters ahead and was inwardly startled.
Those were the special forces uniforms of American soldiers.
"Damn it, how did these American get here?"
Junior cursed inwardly.
"Shouldn't they still be entangled with Davidov's forces on the beach? How could they have broken through the defense line so quickly and even gotten ahead of us?"
"Spread out! Stay alert!"
He immediately made the hand signal.
The well-trained Spetsnaz members quickly dispersed, establishing a semicircular encirclement using trees and rocks for cover.
Several scouts silently moved to both flanks, wanting to confirm if there were any other American soldiers in the vicinity.
A few minutes later, the scouts sent back the signal: clear, no other enemies around.
"Only five people?"
A flicker of confusion crossed Junior's eyes, but it was overshadowed by delight.
These five were clearly trying to circle around to General Davidov's rear for a sneak attack. If he could silently eliminate these isolated pathfinders right here, it would be a major achievement.
Thinking this, he decided to test the waters.
"Looks like they're not taking the bait..."
Randy had his back to them. Though he didn't turn around, through Davidson's real-time updates, he had a clear grasp of the situation behind him.
"Let's add some fuel to the fire."
With that, Randy made a forward hand signal and stood up with the four other team members, pretending to continue advancing deeper behind enemy lines.
Seeing this, Junior finally couldn't hold back any longer.
"Go, subdue them. We can't let them alert General Davidov."
With a sweep of his hand, Junior led a dozen elite team members, no longer concealing their footsteps, and strode purposefully after them.
Hearing the urgent and dense sound of footsteps behind him, Randy suddenly turned around, instantly raising his gun.
When he saw the newcomers wearing Spetsnaz Team uniforms, his face showed the perfect mix of surprise and delight. He immediately lowered his muzzle and even waved.
"Fools."
Junior sneered inwardly, but plastered an enthusiastic smile on his face. He also signaled his men to lower their muzzles and quickly stepped forward to meet them.
The two groups converged in a forest clearing.
"Soldier, how did you get here so fast?"
Randy asked excitedly, as if seeing family.
"My God, you guys are simply amazing."
Junior walked up and patted Randy's shoulder forcefully, acting like they were long-lost comrades.
"We were originally attacking from the front. Unexpectedly, we smashed through like a hot knife through butter, directly breached the pirates' defense line and rushed here. You guys actually circled around here too? That's incredible."
"In that case, let's go together."
Randy seized the opportunity and immediately proposed.
"Our few men were planning to circle around and raid the pirate command post. Now with you joining, we can attack from both front and rear. We're sure to wipe out these pirates in one fell swoop."
"No problem, brother."
Junior's smile widened, but a cold glint flashed in his eyes.
"Is it just the five of you here? With our manpower added, we can perfectly hit these pirates from the center."
"Yes, just us five scouts."
Randy nodded.
"The main force is still tying them down on the front. No time to waste, let's move out quickly. It seems like the pirates are about to flee."
"Good, we'll follow your lead."
Junior smiled and nodded.
The moment Randy and his four men turned to lead the way...
*Click!*
Countless black muzzles were instantly raised.
The cold gun barrels were pressed directly against the back of Randy's head. The other four American soldiers also had over a dozen guns aimed squarely at their vital points.
The air seemed to freeze.
Randy stopped walking. He did not turn around, his voice very calm.
"What are you doing? Why?"
Junior did not answer immediately.
First, he gave his men a look. Several Spetsnaz members immediately stepped forward and roughly disarmed Randy and the others.
More importantly, they expertly took the body cameras and communication devices from the men and viciously crushed them on the ground.
After doing all this and confirming no video evidence could leak out, Junior finally revealed a ferocious smile.
"Sorry about this."
He said slowly.
"Actually... we are also pirates."
"Pirates?"
Randy suddenly laughed. There was not a trace of fear in that laughter; instead, it was full of mockery.
"You mean, pirates disguised as Spetsnaz Team?"
The smile froze on Junior's face.
"Turn around."
He barked sharply.
Randy and his four men slowly turned around.
What sent chills down Junior's spine was that these five American, pointed at by dozens of guns, showed not even the slightest hint of panic on their faces. Instead, they were all smiling.
That kind of smile was like watching a group of clumsy circus clowns performing.
"What are you laughing at?"
A surge of intense unease welled up in Junior's heart as he demanded sharply.
"How can you still laugh when you're about to die?"
"I'm laughing at you for being a fool."
Randy uttered these words calmly.
Before his words faded...
*Whoosh!!*
A fierce wind sprang up out of nowhere!
Before Junior could even react, a black figure burst out from the dense forest to the side.
Its speed was so fast the naked eye couldn't follow, leaving only a blurry afterimage and a piercing sound of tearing air.
*Thud!*
A dull impact sound.
That black figure instantly rushed in front of Junior, delivering a powerful horizontal kick directly to his chest.
Junior didn't even have time to scream before his entire body flew backward as if hit by a speeding truck.
*Crash!*
His body slammed heavily into a tree thick enough for three people to embrace, shaking the leaves with a loud rustle, then slid to the ground like a pile of mud, life and death unknown.
"What the FUCK?"
The surrounding Spetsnaz members were all dumbfounded.
Was this speed and power something a human could possess?
But they were elites after all. After a brief shock, they immediately reacted, turning their muzzles and firing at the black figure.
*Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!*
Intense gunfire instantly echoed through the jungle.
However, an even more despairing scene unfolded.
They saw that black figure, along with Randy and his four men, actually flicker and dodge amidst the hail of bullets.
Bullets whistled past them but didn't even touch the corners of their clothes.
"Dodged... they dodged it?"
A Spetsnaz member widened his eyes in terror, almost dropping his gun.
"How is this possible? How can humans react faster than bullets?"
This was not combat as they understood it. Even in the Enhancement Agent videos China had previously released, such physics-defying abilities hadn't been shown.
"Damn it, the Americans are still hiding their true capabilities."
Despair instantly spread through the heart of every Spetsnaz Team member. This was no military exercise; this was a suicide mission!
"Move in."
Following the command, the US Soldierss lying in ambush all around burst forth like tigers unleashed from their cages, charging out from every direction.
"Fuck! The place is swarming with people."
"Fire, open fire!"
The Spetsnaz Team members, whose attention had originally been drawn by Randy and his four companions, were now completely flustered.
They frantically swung their muzzles around and pulled the triggers at the dark shadows rapidly closing in.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Dense gunfire erupted like popping beans, tongues of flame wildly licking the dim jungle.
However, a scene of utter despair unfolded before them.
The movements of these US Soldierss defied physics.
Even while sprinting at high speed, they could execute all sorts of unbelievable evasive maneuvers. Bullets always whizzed past their bodies, striking tree trunks and sending splinters flying, but never so much as grazed their skin.
"Monsters, they're all monsters."
One Spetsnaz member watched helplessly as a US Soldiers sidestepped a full burst of his bullets, then covered five meters in a single step, appearing directly in front of him.
"Damn it, the intel was wrong. These aren't ordinary people. They've all taken a stronger serum."
Thud!
Before he could finish shouting, an Iron Fist slammed heavily into his abdomen.
Even through the thick bulletproof tactical vest, the immense impact rattled his internal organs, sending him to his knees, vomiting bile.
The battle was a completely one-sided rout.
The so-called world's number one special forces unit was, in the face of absolute speed and strength, like infants who hadn't yet learned to walk.
Their prized combat skills and tactical coordination appeared utterly feeble against the lightning-fast assaults of the US Soldierss.
In less than three minutes.
This elite force of over a hundred fully-armed Spetsnaz Team members was utterly defeated, strewn across the ground in disarray.
Stripped of their firearms, they couldn't even withstand a single exchange in close-quarters combat.
"Hah..."
Randy slowly emerged from the grass, looking over the bounty on the ground and nodding in satisfaction.
He walked straight over to Captain Vasily, who had been kicked flying.
The guy's physical constitution was indeed impressive. Even after taking such a heavy kick, he was still conscious, just leaning against a tree trunk gasping for air, his eyes filled with terror and resentment.
"Blindfold them."
Randy ordered calmly.
"Have the Flerken take them back."
"Fl... Flerken?"
Hearing this strange name, Junior was stunned for a moment.
What cat? What kind of pet cat could take them anywhere?
But he quickly snapped back to his current predicament and blustered with false bravado.
"Damn yellow monkeys, let us go now, or you'll never get off this island. General Davidov's main force is just ahead, and our fleet is out there. They won't let you get away."
"Heh heh."
Randy squatted down, looking at him as if he were an idiot.
"It's not that you won't let us go."
He leaned close to Junior's ear and whispered.
"We came here specifically for you. From the very beginning, you rats hiding under the guise of pirates have been our prey. Got it?"
"What?"
Junior's pupils contracted sharply, a storm of shock and horror raging in his heart.
So this was a trap within a trap. The Americans had known about their deployment all along.
"Move."
Before he could say another word, two soldiers stepped forward and covered his eyes and mouth with black cloth.
The other Spetsnaz members received the same treatment.
Right at that moment.
Rustle rustle rustle... the sound of faint footsteps came from the forest.
A large orange cat walked out gracefully.
It looked at the captives littering the ground, seeming a bit disdainful as it yawned. Then, under the gaze of the US Soldierss, its originally cute little mouth suddenly gaped open.
Crunch!
Countless black, sticky tentacles erupted from within, instantly wrapping around the over a hundred Spetsnaz members on the ground.
"Mmmph!!!"
The blindfolded Spetsnaz members only felt their bodies entangled by something slimy and cold, followed by a dizzying sensation of weightlessness.
Whoosh!
A massive suction force pulled them in. Over a hundred living men were thus sucked into that not-so-large cat's mouth, completely vanishing from this world.
The Flerken let out a satisfied burp, returning to its harmless-looking appearance, and leaped up into a large tree to continue its surveillance mission.
Pirate Defense Line, Command Post.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The dense gunfire coming from the rear made General Davidov, who had been focused on the front, jolt.
"Gunfire? Why is there gunfire from behind?"
He whipped his head around to look at the dense forest behind him, his expression turning uncertain.
"Could it be Junior and his team?"
"But who are they engaging?"
Several possibilities flashed rapidly through Davidov's mind.
"Could it be those two hundred Americans? But shouldn't they be trapped at the bottom of the cliff?"
Suddenly, he thought of something, and cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead.
"What about that patrol team we sent out earlier to investigate? Why haven't they returned yet?"
"Report, General, we've lost contact with them," the Adjutant reported anxiously.
"Damn it."
Davidov slammed his fist on the table.
"Those Americans must have climbed over, or something has gone wrong on Junior's end."
But then he reconsidered and felt something was off.
"Even if they did meet, we and the Spetsnaz Team are supposed to be allies on the surface. They wouldn't just open fire on sight. Something must have happened, or maybe that bastard Junior wanted to hog all the credit and bit off more than he could chew."
Whatever the reason, having the rear on fire was a major taboo.
"Quickly," Davidov decided promptly.
"Order the 2nd and 3rd Battalions from the Reserve Force, three hundred men, to head to the rear immediately. Find out what's happening. I want to see them alive or their bodies."
"But General, if we move the reserves, the front line will be vulnerable..." the Adjutant hesitated.
"We can't worry about that now!" Davidov roared.
"If our ass gets kicked from behind, what's the use of a strong front defense? Go, now!"
"Yes, sir!"
American Special Forces, Command Channel.
"Report, Captain. Message from the front: the pirate defense line is showing movement."
The communications soldier reported immediately.
"An armed force of approximately three hundred men is withdrawing from the forward positions and heading in our direction."
"Finally making a move, huh?"
A gleam flashed in Randy's eyes.
This was what they called 'pluck one hair and the whole body is affected.' By taking out the Spetsnaz Team, that nail in the coffin, these pirates couldn't sit still any longer.
"Perfect opportunity."
Randy immediately gave the order.
"First and Second Squads, with me. We'll set up an ambush for this relief force halfway and give them a proper reception."
"Teams Three and Four, flank around the side. While the frontal defense is weak, prepare to join them for a forced breakthrough."
"Remember, when facing these so-called pirates, there's no need to follow international conventions. The guns in their hands are loaded with live rounds, and they want our lives."
"Yes, Captain!"
A jungle encounter.
Three hundred pirates, dressed in mismatched camouflage but well-equipped, were aggressively rushing toward the rear.
"Quick, quick, find those troublemakers."
The leading Battalion Commander brandished his AK-47 and shouted urgencies.
Just as they passed through a dense thicket of bushes...
Da-da-da-da-da!
Without any warning or a single shout...
Dozens of tongues of fire suddenly erupted from the grass on both sides of the road.
"Enemy attack!"
Before the Battalion Commander could react, a bullet accurately blew his head apart, splattering red and white matter everywhere.
"Ah!"
Screams of agony instantly rang through the jungle.
Although these pirates were trained soldiers, in this encounter against a group of Awakened Warriors with superhuman reflexes and precision, they were simply lambs to the slaughter.
"Counterattack! Counterattack!"
The remaining pirates frantically searched for cover and raised their guns to return fire.
However, to their despair, those US Soldiers didn't play by the rules at all.
Instead of hiding behind cover, they leaped out directly, advancing through the hail of bullets as if they were dancing.
Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!
Lethal live rounds came whistling through the air.
But in the eyes of Randy and the others who had taken the Tier 2 Gene Medicine, the trajectories of these bullets were clearly visible, even appearing somewhat slow.
Randy's body shifted slightly, and a bullet originally aimed at his heart grazed past his clothes.
Immediately after, he raised his hand and fired a single shot.
Bang!
A hundred meters away, a pirate machine gunner who had just poked his head out fell to the ground.
"How... how do we fight this?"
Looking at the group of war gods across from them who seemed to be using cheats, the pirates' morale instantly collapsed.
They couldn't hit them with bullets, and they couldn't outrun them; it was a one-sided massacre.
Pirate Headquarters.
Feeling the increasingly intense gunfire from the rear and the screams of being one-sidedly crushed...
Davidov finally realized something was wrong.
"No, this is definitely not right."
His face was deathly pale.
"The gunfire is too dense, and why can't I hear Junior and the others? If it were a misunderstanding, the fire should have stopped long ago."
"Could it be... the Spetsnaz Team lost?"
A terrifying thought emerged in his mind.
"And are those two hundred americans really that strong? Even a reinforcement of three hundred men can't stop them? They can even split their forces to counterattack?"
"General, this is bad."
Just then, a Lookout from the front line ran in, terrified.
"The US Squad at the front has suddenly launched a charge. Their speed is too fast; our machine guns can't hit them at all. The first line of defense has already been breached."
"What?"
Davidov felt his vision go dark.
Tigers in front, pursuers behind.
In this so-called hunt, who exactly was hunting whom?
The air was filled with the scent of gunpowder and panic. Davidov was like a trapped beast in a cage, pacing back and forth anxiously.
"General, what do we do now?"
The Adjutant was drenched in sweat.
"The brothers in the back can't hold on much longer and are requesting reinforcements. If we don't send people soon, our retreat will be completely cut off."
"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"
Davidov cursed three times, his eyes bloodshot.
He never expected that this battle, which should have been a guaranteed victory like catching a turtle in a jar, would suddenly turn into inviting a wolf into his home.
"Deploy another two hundred men to reinforce the rear."
Davidov gritted his teeth as he gave the order.
"Tell them that even if they die, they must block those americans in the woods. As for the rest, ignore everything else and push everyone to the front. We absolutely cannot let the americans at the front breach the second line of defense."
He frantically calculated the comparison of combat power in his mind.
Even if the americans were fierce, and no matter how miraculous that Enhancement Serum was, they shouldn't be able to take on ten men each, right?
"There are now a full five hundred troops in the rear. If the main force of two hundred americans were all there, it would be understandable if we couldn't stop them, but there's also an attacking US force at the front, which means they've split their forces."
"I refuse to believe that a hundred US Soldiers can beat my five hundred men who have heavy firepower and fortification cover!"
Davidov took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
"Send the order immediately: hold the second line of defense at all costs. Set up all the heavy machine guns. Anyone who retreats a single step will be court-martialed."
"Yes, General."
As the order was given, the five hundred pirates originally stationed at the third line of defense converged toward the second line like a flock of startled birds.
As they ran, they muttered to themselves, how exactly was the first line of defense lost? They heard it took less than ten minutes? How was that possible?
The front battlefield, the edge of the second line of defense.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The crisp, rhythmic gunshots hammered away at the pirates' fragile nerves one by one.
Where was the intense exchange of fire? This was simply a one-sided headshot roll call.
Over a hundred US Soldiers didn't seek cover or use alternating cover fire like in conventional tactics.
Instead, they stood brazenly in the middle of the road, holding their guns and staring forward with cold expressions.
What an incredible display of arrogance.
But behind that arrogance lay a despair-inducing strength.
"Damn it, how can they be so accurate?"
The pirates behind the cover were going crazy.
"How are we supposed to capture them alive? Forget capturing them; if we even dare to peek out, we're dead. God, help me. I'll be grateful if I just don't get shot in the head."
A pirate machine gunner hiding behind sandbags watched his comrade lying in a pool of blood next to him, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
That comrade had just wanted to slightly raise his head to aim at the americans across from them.
But the moment his helmet peeked over the cover...
Whiz!
A bullet, as if it had eyes, pierced his brow with unerring precision.
Blood mixed with brain matter splattered the ground; he didn't even make a sound.
"I don't believe it. At such a distance, how can they get a headshot every single time?"
This machine gunner was also a tough character. Refusing to believe it, he suddenly stood up, wanting to pull the trigger and spray bullets.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
Before he could even pull the trigger, a bloody hole appeared in the center of his forehead.
His body slumped down, his eyes still wide with the final trace of unbelievable shock.
This was the US Special Forces' style of fighting: simple and brutal.
Competing in reflexes? Competing in accuracy?
In the face of US Soldiers who had taken Tier 2 Gene Medicine and possessed superhuman senses and neural reaction speeds, the marksmanship these pirates took pride in was like child's play.
Pirate Headquarters.
"Reporting!"
A messenger stumbled in, his face covered in dust and blood, clearly frightened out of his wits.
"General! We can't hold them back, we really can't!"
He knelt on the ground, trembling all over.
"The americans's marksmanship is too terrifying. We can't organize an effective counterattack at all. As long as we show even a sliver of our heads, a bullet comes flying. They never miss!"
"Bastard!"
Davidov grabbed him by the collar.
"There are hundreds of men and hundreds of guns on the front line! Even blind firing should be enough to push them back, right? How are we being picked off one by one?"
"General, something's wrong!"
Before he could finish cursing, another person rushed in on all fours, bringing even more desperate news.
"The rear! The entire rear line has collapsed!"
This soldier had an expression on his face as if he had seen a ghost.
"Those americans are too strong, we can't resist their advance at all, and... and..."
"And what? Speak!"
Davidov roared.
"And the enemy isn't afraid of death at all. They don't look for cover; they just stand in the open and trade fire with us. When our bullets fly over, they can actually dodge them! This isn't something a human can do!"
Clang!
The water cup in Davidov's hand fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.
"Reacting to bullets..."
He muttered to himself, his face instantly turning deathly pale.
"Damn it, what the hell is going on? The Spetsnaz Team lost, and now a regular army of thousands is being suppressed by two hundred people? And we're being flanked from both sides?"
What kind of monsters are these americans?
Listening to the sound of gunfire getting closer and more intense outside the window, the unease in Davidov's heart grew like wild weeds.
This meant his soldiers were being unilaterally slaughtered.
"Retreat! Retreat quickly!"
Davidov finally broke down, shouting hysterically.
"Quickly recall all the remaining men, pull everyone back to the perimeter of the headquarters, and prepare to defend this place to the death!"
"Also, immediately, right now, get me in touch with Yuri!"
He grabbed the phone, his fingers trembling.
"Tell him the americans aren't normal. Tell them to stop this damn military exercise immediately, or we'll all die here, we'll all die!"
The rear jungle battlefield.
"Run! Run away! These people are devils!"
Hundreds of pirates abandoned their equipment and fled frantically through the dense forest.
They no longer had their previous arrogance; at this moment, they only wished their parents had given them two more legs.
And behind them...
Randy led dozens of soldiers, pursuing them at a leisurely pace as if they were strolling through their own backyard.
They weren't firing wildly; instead, they calmly raised their rifles, aimed, and fired.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
With every gunshot, a running pirate ahead was bound to fall.
"Don't stop, keep pressing forward."
As Randy walked, he gave a casual wave. A stray bullet grazed his cheek, but he didn't even blink.
This pressure of standing in the open, even facing a hail of bullets to trade fire, completely shattered the pirates' psychological defenses.
This was true terror.
This was a dimensional strike from a higher-order being.
As the encirclement continued to shrink, the entire battlefield had become an airtight iron barrel.
The two groups of US Soldiers—one pushing through the front like a bulldozer, the other piercing through the rear like a sharp knife—finally successfully converged at the perimeter of the headquarters.
The remaining few hundred pirate remnants were like a driven flock of sheep, tightly compressed into the lonely building of the headquarters and the narrow defensive works around it.
"Hold on! Hold the line!"
A pirate officer shouted at the top of his lungs, but his voice seemed pale and powerless amidst the dense gunfire.
The US Soldiers still maintained that chilling combat style: advancing without cover.
They closed in from all directions, requiring no complex tactical coordination. Relying solely on absolute speed, reaction, and precision, they were conducting an easy headshot practice.
Bang!
A pirate had just set up a heavy machine gun, but before he could pull the trigger, a bullet accurately destroyed the firing mechanism, followed immediately by a second bullet that pierced his helmet.
This was a completely unequal battle.
Inside the headquarters.
Davidov watched through the gaps in the bulletproof glass as those black figures drew closer and closer. His face had turned from pale to a deathly grey.
"My God, are they devils?"
His hands trembled as he watched his defensive lines being torn apart layer by layer like they were made of paper.
"Why hasn't it stopped yet? if this damn military exercise doesn't stop, we're all going to die here!"
"Connection established, General! We've reached General Yuri!"
The nearby signals officer shouted.
"Quick, give it to me!"
Davidov snatched the phone and roared hysterically into it.
"Yuri, it's over! We're finished! The Spetsnaz Team is gone, and we only have a few hundred men left! Think of something!"
Russian Flagship, Command Room.
"What did you say?"
General Yuri's originally arrogant face instantly froze, and he almost dropped the coffee cup in his hand.
"What are you people good for? A regular army of thousands plus the elite Spetsnaz Team, with the advantage of terrain, and you can't hold back two hundred people?"
"No, Yuri..."
Davidov's desperate wailing came from the other end of the line.
"The opposition is too strong, really too strong! They can dodge bullets! We haven't even seen a trace of the Spetsnaz Team! Now we can't hit them at all, while every one of their bullets takes one of our lives! This is a massacre! This is a unilateral massacre!"
"Stop this military exercise immediately, I beg you! Otherwise, everyone up here will die, they'll all die!"
Beep, beep, beep... The communication cut off abruptly after a violent explosion.
Yuri stood there dazed, cold sweat instantly soaking his back.
He was also a veteran of many battles, but this was the first time he had heard such an inconceivable battle report.
Dodge bullets? Two hundred suppressing thousands? Are they even human?
"General, what should we do?"
The adjutant asked cautiously from the side.
Yuri suddenly snapped back to his senses, a flash of panic in his eyes.
"Quick, contact the US fleet! Contact Randy immediately!"
He couldn't care about face anymore.
If the Spetsnaz Team was truly wiped out, and if those thousands of soldiers disguised as pirates were really all killed or captured, this military exercise would become the greatest shame in Russia's history and the end of Yuri's military career.
US Flagship, Command Room.
"Chief, the Eagle side has sent an emergency communication request."
The communications officer reported.
Randy was leisurely watching the real-time footage sent back by the Flerken on the large screen.
That group of pirates had already been squeezed together. As long as Randy was willing, he could close the net at any time.
"Patch him in."
The corner of Randy's mouth curled into a smile. He straightened his uniform and adjusted his expression to look as puzzled and concerned as possible.
The screen lit up, revealing Yuri's somewhat anxious face.
"General Zhang."
Yuri said hurriedly.
"I believe our exercise can conclude now. The pirate resistance here is too tenacious, and there may be unknown risks. For the safety of the soldiers on both sides, I suggest we terminate the exercise immediately."
"Terminate?"
Randy's brow furrowed slightly, feigning confusion.
"General Yuri, why the sudden cancellation? According to reports from my forward units, my soldiers have already surrounded the last few hundred pirates at their headquarters. They'll be completely wiped out shortly."
At this, Randy paused intentionally, his eyes becoming playful.
"Furthermore, I haven't even seen your country's Spetsnaz Team in action yet. What's the matter? Is it because you haven't located the Spetsnaz Team yet, and you feel the outcome is already decided? Are you afraid of losing too embarrassingly, General Yuri, and want to forfeit directly?"
These words were like a thorn, stabbing deep into Yuri's heart.
However, he didn't dare to argue back, let alone admit the fact that the Spetsnaz Team had lost contact.
"How could that be?"
Yuri forced a strained, awkward smile.
"This time it was just... bad luck. Our Spetsnaz Team might have gotten lost or encountered some special circumstances and failed to meet the main pirate force. We'll compete again next time."
Randy laughed inwardly.
It seemed this old fox was truly frightened.
The bizarre disappearance of the Spetsnaz Team had caused him to lose all his confidence.
Since the objective had been met, there was no need to keep up the act.
Randy calmly pressed another communication button and issued the final order to Randy.
"Randy, close the net. Knock out everyone remaining and have the Flerken swallow them before bringing them back. Remember, move quickly and leave no traces."
"Yes, Chief."
Randy's response was brief and forceful.
Unnamed Pacific Island, pirate headquarters.
The headquarters was currently in a state of utter chaos.
Randy led his soldiers as they kicked open the doors and stormed inside.
The remaining pirates had long since lost the will to fight. Seeing these gods of death enter, they dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.
However, what awaited them was not the treatment of prisoners of war, but merciless blows from rifle butts.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A few minutes later, not a single person remained standing in the headquarters.
"Time to get to work."
Randy called out toward a corner.
From the shadows, the Flerken appeared once more.
Looking at the humans scattered across the floor, it opened its abyssal maw.
Countless tentacles lashed out, and the hundreds of unconscious pirates were swallowed whole in an instant.
With the task complete, the Flerken's form blurred as it darted out of the headquarters. It sprinted to a deserted seaside cliff, leaped into the ocean, and swam at high speed toward the US fleet.
US flagship command center.
Upon receiving the signal that Randy had completed the mission, the smile on Randy's face grew even broader.
He looked at the anxious Yuri on the screen and asked in a relaxed manner.
"Since General Yuri has put it that way, I'll consider the exercise concluded. But how shall we determine the winner?"
"You won. You've won."
Yuri's voice was filled with extreme urgency.
"General Zhang, safety is the priority right now. Since the exercise is over, both sides should immediately send personnel onto the island to retrieve their respective troops."
He was desperate; the Spetsnaz Team was missing and likely in US hands.
If the americans brought them back to their aircraft carrier, getting them back would be as difficult as reaching the heavens. He had to intercept them on the island.
"Very well, then I'll accept the win."
Randy nodded.
"US takes the victory this time. We'll spar again when we have the chance."
Then, he dropped the final bombshell.
"By the way, General Yuri, my men just reported that all the pirates have been killed. That being the case, I should head over to welcome our victorious heroes home."
"Wh... what?"
Yuri felt as if an explosion had gone off in his head.
"All killed?"
"Thousands of people, all dead?"
"Then what about the Spetsnaz Team?"
"Were they killed as well?"
His legs turned to jelly, and he nearly collapsed.
If his report back home stated that the Spetsnaz Team was wiped out and thousands of soldiers were killed, he wouldn't just lose his rank—he'd likely be court-martialed and spend the rest of his life in prison.
"Move! Set out immediately!"
Yuri spun around and roared at his subordinates.
"All aircraft carriers, full speed toward Unnamed Pacific Island! Launch every helicopter and landing craft! You must find them for me—I want them found alive, or their bodies if they are dead!"
Unnamed Pacific Island sea area.
On the surface of the sea, over a dozen massive aircraft carriers powered up simultaneously, the roar of their engines shaking the world.
Russia's fleet was mobilizing almost everything they had.
Countless transport helicopters took to the air, and a swarm of landing craft rushed toward the beaches like dumplings into a pot.
Thousands of fully armed Russia soldiers poured ashore, quickly seizing control of every corner of the island and beginning a carpet search.
Meanwhile, although the US fleet also closed in on the island, the atmosphere was significantly more relaxed.
Standing on the deck, Randy watched the Russian forces in the distance acting as if they were facing a mortal enemy, frantic and disorganized. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
"Let's go and receive our victorious heroes."
With a grand sweep of his hand, US's retrieval units also set out in an orderly fashion.
The communication channel opened once more.
Randy looked at the screen where Yuri, pale-faced and frantically directing his men to search the mountains, was visible. He asked with feigned astonishment.
"General Yuri, whatever is the matter? Isn't the exercise over? Why are you still sending so many people up there? With such a massive deployment, one might think a world war was about to break out."
Yuri's expression was ghastly.
He gritted his teeth and forced out a few words.
"The Spetsnaz Team has lost contact. I've sent men to find them."
"Oh? Lost contact?"
Randy raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with disbelief.
"Are these pirates so formidable? To actually defeat the renowned Spetsnaz Team? And even cause the entire unit to lose contact? Tsk tsk tsk, it seems our US's win this time was indeed down to some good luck."
Hearing this, Yuri was so enraged his body shook, nearly coughing up blood.
Luck? To hell with luck!
He knew perfectly well that this was undoubtedly the work of Randy's men.
Aside from those US monsters who could dodge bullets, who else could make a Spetsnaz Team vanish without a trace?
But what could he say?
Could he point his finger at Randy and accuse him of capturing his men?
There was no evidence.
Furthermore, the eyes of the entire world were currently fixed on this military exercise.
If they were to drop all pretenses at this critical moment and escalate the exercise into a direct military conflict between two nuclear powers, the consequences would be more than he—or even the one in the White House—could ever bear.
He could only swallow his resentment and pray that he could find even the slightest trace on the island.
But he was destined to be disappointed.
All the evidence was now inside the belly of the orange cat swimming toward the US aircraft carrier.
Unnamed Pacific Island, Landing Zone.
With the full intervention of the Russian carrier strike group, the silence of the small island was instantly shattered by a massive roar.
Dozens of Black Hawks and Chinook helicopters circled in the air, kicking up clouds of dust.
Hovercraft landing craft rushed onto the beach, their ramps dropping as fully armed Russia Marines poured out like a tide.
They quickly established a perimeter on the beach, surrounding the entire island so tightly that not even a drop of water could leak through.
While they were ostensibly there under the banner of searching for missing personnel and clearing pirate remnants, every Russia Commander knew in their heart that they had only one true goal.
To find those bizarrely vanished Spetsnaz Team members and those thousands of fully armed pirates.
"Quick, move it!"
An Russia major waved his pistol and roared loudly.
"Groups of three, conduct a carpet search! Don't miss a single corner! Even if you have to flip over every bit of soil on this island, find them for me!"
However, as the search deepened, an eerie atmosphere began to spread among the Russian troops.
It was too clean.
Aside from the shell casings scattered on the ground, trees riddled with bullet holes, and obvious signs of combat, there weren't even close to a thousand bodies.
There were thousands of people!
Just half an hour ago, an intense gunfight had been taking place here.
But now, those thousands of living people seemed to have vanished into thin air; there weren't even a few thousand corpses on the ground.
"My God, what on earth happened here?"
A young soldier looked at the trenches, feeling a chill run down his spine.
"This is practically a ghost island..."
Perimeter of the Pirate Command Post.
An Russia special search and rescue team led by Colonel Bell marched double-time, finally arriving at the core area of the battle.
When they saw the bullet-riddled command post, everyone was stunned.
Outside the building, two hundred US Soldiers were lined up neatly.
Although their black special ops uniforms were stained with a bit of dust, everyone's mental state was incredibly good; there was no fatigue from a major battle, nor the slightest hint of panic.
They just stood there quietly, like a group of tourists who had just returned from an outing, waiting for the bus to take them home.
Colonel Bell took a deep breath, suppressed the shock and suspicion in his heart, and strode forward.
"I am Colonel Bell, Commander of the Russian search and rescue team."
Bell's gaze was like a torch as he stared fixedly at Randy, who stood at the front of the line, trying to spot a single flaw in his expression.
"Have you seen any of our Spetsnaz Team men?"
Hearing this, Randy gave a calm salute, his tone so peaceful that no fault could be found.
"Sorry, man. Along the way, we only encountered pirates putting up a desperate last stand; we didn't meet any so-called allied Spetsnaz Team."
At this point, Randy frowned slightly and asked with feigned surprise.
"What? Has something happened to your country's elite unit?"
Seeing Randy's innocent and shocked expression, Bell felt like ten thousand 'grass mud horses' were stampeding through his heart.
Keep acting! Just keep on acting!
But he had no evidence, so he could only grit his teeth, nod, and say sorrowfully,
"Yes, they've gone missing. Just now, we completely lost contact with them."
"What? Missing?"
Randy showed a look of shock, his tone becoming urgent.
"How is that possible? That's the Spetsnaz Team! You'd better hurry and search more; the terrain on this island is complex. Maybe their communication equipment was just damaged, and they're still trapped in some corner of the island waiting for rescue."
Seeing Randy's sincere appearance, Bell sneered inwardly.
The Spetsnaz Team was absolutely taken by this group of americans.
Although he didn't know what methods they had used to make thousands of people disappear in such a short time, the culprit was right in front of him.
Bell's eyes flickered as he suddenly said,
"Brother, since that's the case, can you stay and help me look for them?"
Randy, who was just about to turn and order a retreat, paused in his tracks.
He turned back, looked into Bell's calculating eyes, and smiled slightly.
"I'm verry sorry."
Randy pointed to the soldiers behind him and said with a helpless look,
"Our mission is complete. The chief has ordered us to return and report immediately. You know how it is—military orders are as immovable as mountains."
Bell's heart sank.
If he let these people go, the whereabouts of the Spetsnaz Team would likely remain an eternal mystery.
Dead or alive, as long as the people were still on the island, there was still hope. What if... what if they had been taken away by them?
Although these US Soldiers were empty-handed and didn't seem to be carrying any prisoners, intuition told Bell that he absolutely could not let them leave so easily.
"Brother, give us a hand."
Bell stepped forward, blocking Randy's path, his tone carrying a hint of moral kidnapping.
"Doesn't your US always claim to be a force for peace and that you love helping others? Now that your allies are missing, it wouldn't be very good if you just walked away like this, would it?"
The surrounding Russia soldiers also closed in. Although their muzzles weren't raised, the sense of pressure was palpable.
The atmosphere on the scene instantly froze.
Randy looked at Bell blocking his way; the smile on his lips grew wider, but a cold light flashed deep in his eyes.
"That is indeed true."
Randy nodded, his tone remaining gentle, but his words suddenly shifted.
"However, we truly have other urgent military matters this time. The exercise has ended, and our actions must follow the arrangements of the command center."
"How about this?"
Randy looked at Bell and said word by word,
"We'll go back and report to General Zhang first. After reporting the situation, if our superiors approve, we'll come back immediately to help you search. How does that sound?"
These words were spoken flawlessly.
Both sides knew exactly what the other was thinking: Bell wanted to detain them, and Randy wanted to leave.
At this moment, an intense internal conflict was raging within Bell.
His hand moved toward the holster at his waist several times, only to be forced back each time.
If they made a move at this distance, with their numerical advantage, they might be able to forcibly detain these two hundred people, but what would be the consequences of doing so?
It would mean that under the gaze of the entire world, Russia had actively attacked the US army that had just won the military exercise.
That wouldn't be a simple friction; that would be a declaration of war.
"Captain..."
A lieutenant beside him watched as Randy and the others bypassed them and walked straight toward the distant beach. He leaned in and whispered anxiously into Bell's ear.
"Why didn't we go up and stop them just now? Are we just going to watch them leave?"
Bell watched the retreating backs of the US army, gritting his teeth and squeezing a sentence out from between them.
"What's the point of stopping them? Do you want to fire the first shot here?"
"But..."
The Lieutenant said unwillingly.
"The Spetsnaz Team must have been captured by them, even those thousands of brothers. Are we just going to let them leave like this?"
"Did you see them capture anyone?"
Bell suddenly turned his head, glaring fiercely at the Lieutenant.
"They are empty-handed, and there are only a few of them. Can you accuse them of carrying thousands of people away in their pockets?"
The Lieutenant was suddenly at a loss for words.
Indeed, this was the most bizarre part.
Two hundred people—how could they take away thousands of captives in broad daylight? It was simply unscientific.
"The military exercise is over now."
Bell took a deep breath, calming his rapidly heaving chest.
"If we fight now, it won't be as simple as a military exercise; it would be a direct armed conflict between two nuclear-armed powers. The blame for starting a war is not something we can bear, nor even General Yuri."
"Then... then what do we do now, Captain?"
The Lieutenant asked in despair.
Bell looked around at the empty jungle and waved his hand weakly.
"Search... keep searching. See if there are any clues left on this island. If they're alive, I want to see them; if they're dead, I want their bodies"... The jungle path leading to the beach.
Randy led the two hundred soldiers, marching in unison as they quickly moved toward the shore.
Along the way, small squads of Russia soldiers occasionally emerged from the woods, attempting to question or block them.
"Hey! Stop! We need to perform an inspection."
"Is that our lost equipment?"
Facing these provocations and obstructions, Randy remained extremely firm.
"Move aside."
"This is the US military; please maintain a safe distance."
He rejected their unreasonable demands one by one. Even when they tried to force their way closer, the murderous aura emanating from the US Soldiers—honed from mountains of corpses and seas of blood—directly repelled those Russia soldiers looking for trouble.
In this manner, under countless gazes filled with hostility and suspicion, the two hundred US Soldiers returned to the shore without further incident.
The pickup speedboats, which had been waiting for a long time, quickly pulled into the shore.
It wasn't until he boarded the massive Steel ship belonging to US and stepped onto the solid deck that Randy finally let out a long breath of turbid air.
He straightened his collar and walked quickly toward the bridge's command room.
US flagship, Command Center.
"Reporting, Chief."
Randy stood straight before his father, General Randy, gave a standard military salute, and spoke in a resonant voice.
"The Special Forces Team has all returned; the mission is successfully completed."
"The Spetsnaz Team and the remaining pirates have all been taken away by the Flerken. No traces were left at the scene."
"Good! Well done son!"
The tension finally left Randy's face as he broke into a hearty smile, patting his son Randy Junior firmly on the shoulder.
"In this battle, you have demonstrated our national prestige and our spirit. You are all excellent."
"What about the Flerken?"
He asked.
"They've already been spat out in the lower hold and are now all detained in special isolation bays under guard."
Randy said in a lowered voice.
"Very good."
He nodded, then turned toward the communication console.
"It's also time to say goodbye to our old friend."
He picked up the communicator and connected to the Russian flagship once more.
On the large screen, Yuri's face was as dark as the bottom of a pot.
"Hahaha, General Yuri."
Before Yuri could speak, Randy's hearty laughter preceded him.
"This military exercise was truly exhilarating. My soldiers have all returned safely now."
Seeing Yuri's expression, which looked as if he had swallowed a fly, Randy felt great and continued to twist the knife.
"Since the exercise is over, we won't stay here to blow in the sea breeze with you. I heard your people are still looking for something on the island? Then take your time. Good luck, we won't disturb you further."
"FUCK!"
On the other end of the screen, Yuri finally couldn't help but swear; his rage was palpable even through the monitor.
He had just received Bell's report that the americans had boarded their ship empty-handed, carrying no captives at all.
This plunged Yuri into even deeper despair and fear.
If the americans didn't take them, what did that mean?
It meant the Spetsnaz Team had either been executed on the spot and buried, or thrown into the sea to feed the sharks.
Yuri gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot, staring intently at Randy as if he wanted to skin him alive through the screen.
"Fine... very fine."
Yuri squeezed out a few words from between his teeth, his voice incredibly cold.
"General Zhang, what goes around comes around. You win this time, but don't be too proud. We... will meet again at the next military exercise."
Hearing this, Randy sneered inwardly.
"Next time?"
"This time, we wiped out all your elites in one go."
"You still think there will be a next time?"
"Even if there is a next time, it will just be another self-inflicted humiliation. Next time, it won't be these soldiers fighting you."
"We'll see, we'll see."
Randy smiled meaningfully, then with a wave of his hand, he cut the communication.
"Pass down the order! Set sail! We're going home."
"Yes!"
On the surface of the Pacific Ocean.
With a long blast of the siren, the massive US aircraft carrier formation turned around and, under the glow of the setting sun, cut through the waves toward the motherland.
Behind them, the Unnamed Pacific Island remained surrounded by the Russian fleet.
Thousands of Russia soldiers were still desperately searching every inch of land, trying to find the Spetsnaz Team members who would never be found.
Meanwhile, on the US domestic internet.
An explosive news story instantly shot to the top of every trending list and rapidly ignited global public opinion.
"US-Eagle Joint Military Exercise Concludes! US Special Forces Team Returns in Triumph!"
"Zero Casualties! Two Hundred Warriors Crush Thousands of Pirates! Boosting Our National Prestige!"
Russia Spetsnaz Team Mysteriously Lost Contact During Exercise, Suspected to Have Suffered Heavy Losses"
With the release of official announcements and some blurry on-site photos, the entire US internet was boiling with excitement.
[Holy crap! Awesome! My great US is mighty!]
[Two hundred against thousands? Is this a movie? Or are they using cheats?]
[I heard they used the latest tactics and equipment; Russia's faces have turned green.]
[Hahahaha, seeing foreign media reports that the Spetsnaz Team is missing is hilarious. Maybe they were beaten so badly they're afraid to show their faces?]
[This is what we call 'Whoever offends world will be punished, no matter how far away they are.' This isn't just a victory in an exercise; it's proof of our country's strength.]
[I'm tearing up! These are our guardian deities! Welcome home, heroes!]
[FUCK! They're gonna give ICE those drugs!]
Countless comments, likes, and shares merged into a red ocean.
US Beijing Expressway.
A black motorcade with special military license plates was speeding along.
Randy leaned back against the leather seat in the rear, rubbing his aching brow.
Although he had just won a brilliant victory across the ocean, leaving the people of Russia to suffer in silence, he didn't have much time to enjoy the joy of victory.
For the current US, disputes on Blue Star had become mere interludes for post-meal conversation; the real battlefield lay in the vast Myriad Realms.
"Ring ring."
The encrypted satellite phone rang.
Randy answered the phone, and the excited voice of a frontline operations staff officer came from the other end.
"Reporting to the Chief! The operation codenamed Dragon Slaying Plan is fully prepared."
"Target locked: Western Fantasy World, Dragon Island dormant volcano area. Target creature: Red Lotus Flame Dragon, energy level rated as Seventh-Order."
"Very good."
A sharp light flickered in Randy's eyes.
"What is the troop deployment status?"
"Reporting to the Chief, all three Abyssal Condensers are in position, lurking in the deep sea. Additionally, a hundred-thousand-strong Fifth-Order Zombie Legion has completed a three-dimensional blockade of Dragon Island."
The staff officer paused, then added.
"Furthermore, the Church of Light sent a message asking if we need high-order angels to assist us in slaying the dragon. They stated that Seventh-Order dragons possess Dragon Speech Magic and are extremely difficult to deal with."
"No need."
Randy refused decisively, his tone carrying a strong sense of confidence.
"Thank them for their kindness on my behalf, but this is an independent hunt for our US Legion. Three Abyssal Condensers are enough."
Hanging up the phone, Randy looked at the scenery flying past the window, silently calculating in his mind.
During this time, although Steve was busy dating and handling family matters, the clones he left behind hadn't been idle.
In that world with weird rules, Steve's Zombie Clones were like a pack of unreasonable bulldozers, crashing through everything. Relying on the shamelessness of the Totem of Undying, they had forcibly killed countless weird entities from various places, including two weird cores that could just be cultivated into Abyssal Condensers.
Including the initial one, US now possessed three peak Sixth-Order Abyssal Condensers. Under the control of Alex and the others, their strength was not at all inferior to the Seventh-Order.
This was their confidence.
Starry Sky Base, Steve's bedroom.
Golden light flowed within the room, making it look like a divine realm.
Sitting cross-legged, Steve slowly opened his eyes. Deep in his pupils, it seemed as if countless believers were praying; a golden radiance flashed and then was completely restrained.
"Phew..."
Steve slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air and raised his hands, feeling the vast, sea-like power within his body.
"Fifth-Order, I've broken through just like that?"
He clenched his fists in disbelief.
Without injecting any potions or undergoing life-and-death tempering, simply by relying on the heart of faith's absorption and conversion of the americans' power of faith, his physical body and Spiritual Power had naturally broken the shackles of the Fourth-Order and stepped into the realm of the Fifth-Order.
"This cultivation speed is simply like using a cheat."
Steve remarked with emotion.
"It seems the gene potions given by the system will be useless to me from now on; faith is the ladder to higher levels."
Just then, the phone on the bedside table vibrated.
Seeing the caller ID was Randy, the corners of Steve's mouth curled up as he answered the call.
"Randy, what's up? Didn't you just return from across the ocean after showing off our national prestige?"
"Hahaha, Steve, you're quite well-informed."
Randy's hearty laughter came through.
"Over there, it was just like playing house with children, not very interesting. A triumphant return was inevitable. I'm calling to tell you that the Dragon Slaying Plan is ready and can be executed at any time. Take Alex with you and get ready to start."
"Alright."
Steve's expression turned serious.
"I'll head over with Alex right away."
Hanging up the phone, a hint of anticipation flashed in Steve's eyes.
"Dragon slaying..."
Since subduing the Ender Dragon, the big fellow's strength improvement had always been a bottleneck.
Although it had barely reached the Fifth-Order by devouring various potions and crystals, for the overlord of The End, this was far from enough.
"I hope the dragon blood of this world's dragons can bring a qualitative leap to the Ender Dragon. If that still doesn't work, I'll have to look for opportunities in the next new world."
As Steve was thinking, the sound of rustling clothes came from beside him.
Muriel slowly opened her eyes, ending her cultivation. She looked at Steve, her heterochromatic eyes full of concern.
"Steve, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
"It's nothing."
Steve smiled and stood up to straighten his clothes.
"Randy said the Dragon Slaying Plan has begun. I need to take Alex there; that dragon's blood will be of great use to us."
"Dragon slaying?"
Hearing those words, the originally quiet Muriel instantly became excited and jumped off the bed.
"I'm going too."
She waved her small fist and said indignantly.
"That group of dragons, relying on their thick skin and flesh, have done all sorts of evil on the continent. On the surface, they claim to be neutral, but in secret, they often attack human cities, burning, killing, looting, and stealing treasures. I've wanted to teach them a lesson for a long time."
"You don't need to go, do you?"
Steve looked at her excited state and subconsciously refused.
"That's a Seventh-Order dragon. Swords and spears have no eyes on the battlefield; what if something happens? Just wait for me at home."
Hearing this, Muriel was slightly stunned. Looking at Steve's concerned gaze, her cheeks couldn't help but flush red, and her heart felt as sweet as honey.
"Steve, is he worrying about me?"
However, as the Saintess of the Church of Light, she was not the type of decorative vase who hid behind men.
Muriel's eyes darted around as she suddenly thought of something, looking at Steve with hope.
"Steve, can't you use that method of yours for controlling monsters on me?"
"Hmm?"
Steve was startled.
"I want to try it too."
Muriel became more excited as she spoke.
"Just like you and Alex, the original body doesn't need to go. As long as the soul descends into a powerful body you provide to fight, it's both safe and allows me to help you. How about it?"
This sentence immediately entered Steve's blind spot of thought.
"Right, why didn't I think of that?"
Steve He slapped his forehead suddenly..
"And..."
Steve looked at Muriel with burning eyes.
If Muriel could do it, did that mean the entire Angel Legion of the Church of Light could too?
In the future, if there were thousands of angels controlling mass-produced Fifth-Order, Sixth-Order, or even stronger biological weapons from US to form an Undying Angel Legion... just the thought of it made one's blood boil.
"However, if an angel's soul enters the body of an MC Monster, will there be some special chemical reaction?"
Steve was filled with curiosity.