Ambush

The team advanced swiftly on foot, covering over ten kilometers before halting at a grassy slope overlooking a murmuring stream.

Fang Lingtian whispered, "Intel confirms the U.S. Reaper Squad will strike the construction camp at 3 AM. Their objectives: sabotage critical infrastructure and assassinate three lead engineers."

Huo Xuan frowned. "If they're attacking the camp, why intercept them here? How do we know they'll pass this slope?"

Fang Lingtian pointed downstream. "A radar station monitors a 100-km radius around the site. Any aircraft entering would be detected. Their only option is to land beyond that range and transport explosives via this river."

Huo Xuan nodded in understanding.

The team rigged hidden snares across the waterway before concealing themselves in the riverside foliage.

No sooner had they settled than Huo Xuan heard the ominous drone of mosquitoes—swarms of them, large and vicious. African mosquitoes were notorious; their bites left swollen welts that lingered for weeks, tormenting Chinese workers.

Though inexperienced in military ops, Huo Xuan knew absolute stillness was paramount. He watched helplessly as the first mosquito landed on his calf, piercing through his thin bodysuit. Glancing sideways, he noticed the others remained motionless—until a mosquito bit them. Then, the targeted area would quiver imperceptibly, sending the insect into convulsions before it dropped dead.

So this is the 'Not a feather may land, nor mosquito alight' mastery of Hua Jin experts, Huo Xuan mused, both impressed and irritated.

Inspired, he attempted their technique—directing his focus inward to manipulate qi and blood flow. Years of training with masters had honed his control over these energies.

Within fifteen minutes, he found the trick. First, his ears twitched like a pig's, flattening against his head. Then, isolated facial muscles contracted violently enough to flick off a mosquito with a sharp twitch.

Fwip!

The insect catapulted into the river.

Soon, Huo Xuan was repelling mosquitoes effortlessly, each successful expulsion further unifying his bodily forces. It reminded him of childhood bicycle lessons—that magical moment when balance suddenly clicked.

Now, he'd achieved the martial artist's coveted breakthrough: thorough force penetration .

Fwip! Fwip! Fwip!

Not a single mosquito survived its suicidal landing.

Just as Huo Xuan teetered on the edge of a profound revelation, an alien sound ruptured the night. Instantly, every operative tensed, their gazes locked onto the darkness ahead.

Under the starlight, two speedboats raced toward them, each carrying five or six towering white men. Their hawk-like eyes scanned both riverbanks vigilantly as they advanced.

Huo Xuan focused intensely, his entire body coiled with energy, ready to strike lethally at any moment.

As the boats neared the ambush point, Fang Lingtian triggered the hidden mechanism. A steel cable sprang from the water, instantly snagging the lead boat. The trailing vessel collided with it, producing a dull thud.

The operatives reacted with unshaken calm, leaping into the water immediately. Simultaneously, gunfire erupted from the reeds—seven submachine guns unleashed a barrage, wounding five or six enemies in seconds while the rest plunged into the river.

"Engage!"

At Fang Lingtian's command, the team dove into the water, launching their hunt.

Huo Xuan, less adept at swimming, vaulted like a great ape and landed squarely on one man's head. The sheer force of his descent crushed the skull with a sickening ​crack, leaving the corpse bobbing in the current. Using the momentum, he sprang toward a second target. Under the stars, his vision remained razor-sharp, ensuring pinpoint accuracy.

As he prepared to strike again, his target suddenly surged upward from the water, thrusting a dagger toward his groin.

At this life-or-death moment, Huo Xuan exhaled sharply, his foot executing Coiling Silk Energy—a subtle twist and wrap that deflected the attack. Then, bending at the waist, he drove his elbow down like a cannonball, obliterating the man's skull.

Huo Xuan's aerial assault made him the fastest. By the time he eliminated two foes, the other seven operatives had just engaged.

True to their reputation as An Jin and Hua Jin masters, they tore through the enemies like a storm. Within seconds, not a single adversary remained alive.

Now submerged, Huo Xuan targeted the severely wounded, delivering precise finger strikes—piercing kidney points or gouging eyes to ensure total incapacitation.

Thirty seconds later, Team B regrouped onshore. Eleven white corpses drifted downstream with the current.

Fang Lingtian clapped Huo Xuan's shoulder approvingly. ​"Well done!"

No sooner had the words left Fang Lingtian's mouth than a distant thud-thud-thud echoed through the night. Two blinding white beams sliced through the darkness, sweeping toward them.

Fang Lingtian's face darkened. "Goddammit, helicopters! Take cover—now!"

The team scattered instantly, diving into the tall grass and pulling camouflage nets over themselves. The searchlights swept across the river, illuminating the dozen or so corpses floating downstream.

Seconds later, the two helicopters opened fire. Their heavy-caliber machine guns roared to life, each round powerful enough to bisect a human torso.

Huo Xuan felt the ground tremble beneath him—thump-thump-thump—as bullets punched into the sand. Then, a sudden tension in his right side made him instinctively roll left.

THWACK!

A bullet slammed into the spot he'd just vacated. The movement, however, betrayed his position. A searing searchlight locked onto him, bathing him in its merciless glare.