Chapter 91: The First Strike to Kill

Almost at the same time Zhao Li shouted his warning, three figures leaped up from the edge of the crates, lunging toward Li Mengdie, who had walked over completely off guard.

These three individuals moved as if they had sustained no injuries at all; illuminated by the firelight, not a single wound or even a drop of blood could be seen on their bodies. They were completely unscathed.

"Level Eight experts!" Zhao Li couldn't help but exclaim. Yet, a thought quickly crossed his mind, and he immediately understood. How could such an important transaction not have experts guarding it? Damn it, how did he only realize this now?

His mind raced, but his hands remained steady. His assault rifle seemed to have eyes of its own, spitting a burst of bullets directly at the three men.

Just as Zhao Li expected, the bullets hit the trio and encountered an invisible barrier; they didn't even tear their clothing before being deflected.

Damn it, these guys were truly terrified of death—Level Eight experts even wearing body armor! It seemed they only bothered to deflect bullets aimed at their heads, ignoring the rest. It appeared their prowess was limited; they were likely newly promoted Level Eight experts.

Realizing bullets were useless, Zhao Li tossed aside his empty rifle and reached back to draw the T-shaped baton hanging at his waist. This was his favorite weapon; while others opted for military daggers, Zhao Li had chosen this, leaving many baffled.

While firing, Zhao Li had already charged into the fray. Because of his warning, the trio's ambush had missed Li Mengdie. Seeing her skill, the three experts realized they couldn't win alone and launched a frenzied, coordinated assault.

Zhao Li wasn't sure of his own current rank, but he knew he couldn't survive a single bullet. However, letting Li Mengdie face three Level Eight experts alone wasn't his style. As the four became entangled, Zhao Li rushed in.

Li Mengdie had been struggling against three opponents, but Zhao Li’s arrival immediately relieved the pressure. Feeling the tension ease, the elite training from the Genius Academy’s combat division kicked in; she held two opponents firmly at bay, even gaining a slight upper hand.

The man facing Zhao Li was bald with a thick beard; his fierce physique and the murderous aura flickering around him spoke of a man who had killed countless times. Seeing such a young opponent, the man’s eyes filled with a bloodthirsty glint. Without a word, he threw a savage punch at Zhao Li’s head before the latter had even steadied his footing.

If that punch landed, Zhao Li would never stand again. However, Zhao Li was a veteran of countless brawls. Facing the heavy blow, he used his forward momentum to shift slightly. Simultaneously, he whipped his baton toward the side of the opponent's neck, while his left hand darted out like a viper toward the man’s arm.

The bearded man clearly looked down on Zhao Li. He tilted his head to dodge the baton but let his arm move into the path of Zhao Li’s hand. *What could a mere grip do? It would only restrict his own movement.* With this thought, he allowed Zhao Li to touch his wrist.

It felt as if Zhao Li’s hand were a high-voltage electrical discharge. The moment his wrist was grabbed, it began to spasm violently—a reaction that wouldn't happen even with a hundred thousand volts of electricity.

Zhao Li had only recently discovered this property of his nameless internal energy. Previously, it required technical skill in bone-shifting and joint-locking, but once mastered to the extreme, the same effect could be achieved with minimal movement.

Beyond the muscle spasms, there was something even more terrifying: a high-frequency vibration in Zhao Li’s hand. Each tremor felt as if it would shatter the bones of whatever he gripped. Without immense internal energy to counteract it, the associated joints would be dislocated instantly. Zhao Li had confirmed this after teaching those military ruffians a lesson nearly a thousand times.

Still, the bearded man was a formidable Level Eight expert. With a surge of his own internal energy, the involuntary spasms and bone vibrations instantly ceased. Shocked, he tried to seize the chance to kill Zhao Li, but Zhao Li had already zipped away to assist the others.

From start to finish, Zhao Li had relied on ambushes. It seemed upright, yet it was filled with insidious techniques. He might not be a match for their raw cultivation, but he felt no shame in using such tactics. Neither military theory nor the teachings of his twisted instructors had ever suggested otherwise. Besides, these three had started it by playing dead.

The two experts tangling with Li Mengdie never expected Zhao Li to abandon his own opponent to rush them. In normal combat, this was suicide, but Zhao Li moved with ease.

Sensing his level, they deemed him insignificant and didn't bother to defend against him, instead looking with disdain at the bearded man for letting him pass. They even channeled their internal energy to their backs, planning to endure the baton strike while seizing the chance to cripple Li Mengdie. Level Eight experts could withstand bullets; why fear a boy's baton?

Yet, the baton strike was a feint; the left-hand ambush was real. The sensation of being grabbed in the ribs was far from light. Sudden muscle spasms and agonizing pain in their ribs made their attacks stutter awkwardly.

Li Mengdie didn't miss the chance. As soon as Zhao Li appeared behind them, she struck. With both men hit, she unleashed her pent-up power, slamming into them. The two experts only had time to let out a cry of agony before collapsing to the ground, half-dead.

The bearded man arrived just in time to see Zhao Li strike his comrades. He couldn't miss this opportunity and threw a heavy punch at Zhao Li’s back.

Zhao Li sensed the danger but was helpless to avoid it. After all, they were three Level Eight experts; succeeding in ambushing two was already an incredible feat. This blow was unavoidable.

*Thud.* The punch landed squarely in the center of Zhao Li’s back. The surging force penetrated his body armor and hit his internal organs. Fortunately, his Basic Health-Building Technique’s energy lived up to expectations, appearing just in time to absorb most of the impact. Even so, his vision went black, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

After the blow, Li Mengdie had already downed the other two. Seeing he was no longer a match for her, the bearded man turned to flee. Zhao Li wouldn't let him go. Enduring the searing pain in his back, he lunged and grabbed the man’s shoulder.

The man shrugged and swung his arm back, shaking Zhao Li off. Unfortunately, the swinging arm was a larger, easier target. Zhao Li’s baton hooked expertly onto the elbow, and with a sharp twist against the joint, a sickening crack echoed, followed by a high-pitched scream.

Immediately, Zhao Li’s hand clamped onto the man’s throat. Against a Level Eight expert, one had to attack the muscles first, then the joints. Following this procedure, the expert, already incapacitated by pain, had his neck snapped by Zhao Li with ease. Strangely, he felt no unease at taking a life with his own hands for the first time.

Li Mengdie had already drawn her pistol, putting a bullet into the heads of the two fallen men. Without their internal energy to protect them, the shots turned their heads into bloody messes.

"Clear the battlefield! Take all undamaged weapons and ammunition. Bring the four automatic cannons, too. Move the two crates to the warship immediately. We're leaving!" Zhao Li ordered, suppressing his pain and the urge to vomit.

"Sir, there are many good things inside these warships!" the elite soldier in charge of the ambush reported.

"Take everything you can carry! Blow up what you can't! Hurry! We only have fifteen minutes!" Zhao Li urged, signaling for assembly. The warship's radar showed no incoming aircraft within a thirty-minute radius, but he shortened the window for safety.

The warship arrived as planned. This camp, designated Site Two, was a former abandoned outpost with a large clearing for landing.

Everyone returned, with only four or five sustaining minor wounds. They brought back plenty of ammo from the captured enemy ships—ammunition was scarce here and functioned as hard currency.

Behind them, two massive explosions signaled that the makeshift transports used by the traders were now scrap metal. No one mourned the loss of equipment that couldn't be sold and would only expose their identities.

Dozens of grenades were set to remote detonation and scattered across the camp. Zhao Li looked at his excited soldiers, waved his hand, and commanded, "Board! Let’s go!"

Everyone filed into the warship, buckled in, and waited for takeoff.

The pilot pushed the stick, and the warship took off like a black ghost, flying at a low altitude along the planned route. It had been confirmed that the enemy ships lacked advanced radar, so they remained undetected. Once they were five hundred meters away, Zhao Li pressed the remote detonator. Dozens of explosions merged into one, turning the camp into a sea of flames, ruthlessly erasing any trace of bodies or landing marks.

Less than ten minutes after they left, two identical warships appeared. A group of men disembarked, and their leader, looking at the scorched earth of the camp, roared in rage.

"Everyone, fall in!" Near their ship at the base, Zhao Li gave a sharp command. Within seconds, everyone stood in formation. On the ship, Zhao Li had already used his internal techniques to suppress his pain; he could not show weakness to his soldiers.

"Return the ships to the hangar immediately. Erase all traces of their takeoff. Turn in all captured weapons to the armory and report the inventory within twenty minutes. After that, rest, and resume normal training tomorrow!" His orders were brief; no one spoke as they moved to execute them.

"Also, this exercise never happened. You were all resting in the camp; no one went out. Understood?" Seeing the excitement in their eyes, Zhao Li shouted, "Dismissed!"

Zhao Li sat still while Christine healed him. Her healing energy was undeniably effective; within moments, he felt much better.

In the underground conference room, two large metal crates sat in the center—the very items the traders had guarded. Each weighed nearly a ton; it had taken four men to lift each one. Given their weight, the twenty-man guard teams for each side during the transaction made sense.

What was inside? Drugs? Weapons? Anything was possible; until they were opened, no one could know.

Only Zhao Li, Christine, and Li Mengdie were in the room. They looked at each other and the crates in silence.

"Why plan such an operation?" Christine’s expression was grim. She had been kept in the dark, truly believing it was just an exercise.

"To test the results of their training," Zhao Li said, feeling a bit guilty for hiding the truth.

"You killed over forty people, seized some junk weapons, and almost lost your life?" Even when angry, Christine was captivating. Looking at the inventory list, she remained furious. Li Mengdie, having participated, stayed silent.

"Do you know what you’re doing?" Since it was already done, Christine stopped questioning the secrecy and began to interrogate him: "Why are you here? To hide from pursuit? And here you are, causing such a massive commotion and provoking three Level Eight experts. Are you in such a hurry to die?"