King Of War: Starting with Arms Dealer

The slave laborers, burdened with a large supply of food, were driven by the armed militants to the edge of the mass grave, concentrated to one side to collectively 'admire' their 'masterpiece'.

A militant grinned viciously as he pushed a shorter man into the pit and then watched the little man dance and scream in agony, trying to crawl out of the pit as if stepping on hot coals…

Every time the little man nearly climbed out, armed militants laughed hysterically and forced him back down with their guns, signaling for him to run in another direction.

The little man, like a frog in a pot of oil, had his sanity rapidly crumble beneath him as the slippery decaying bodies beneath his feet, but no matter how hard he tried, the militants wouldn't let him up.

These beast-like guys, as if drawing strength from the little man's fear, kept growling to drive him to 'try harder', not allowing him to stop even when he was incontinent and on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Not until the little man seemed to accept his fate, completely collapsing to sit among the corpses, did the gold-toothed man walk with a grin to the edge of the pit, raising a revolver towards the little man...

Just as the gold-toothed man prepared to pull the trigger, laughing viciously, a large-caliber bullet hit his wrist.

The hand holding the revolver flew into the air and tumbled to the ground.

The gold-toothed man, seeing his blood-spurting, bare wrist, stared blankly for a few seconds before it dawned on him that he should start screaming…

"Aaah~"

At that moment, the surrounding militants realized they were under attack; they turned around with their guns and fired wildly, only to find they were wasting bullets.

While these militants were a bit at a loss, five bullets hit five unfortunate souls in the head.

The varying calibers of bullets had different effects, but the splattered brain matter and blood were very real.

As the man with the severed hand howled, signaling his men to fire, another five bullets came their way, hitting five knees, including that of the gold-toothed man.

Still super Magnum bullets, this time they shattered the gold-toothed man's knee, the gnarly wound exposing splintered bone with barely a shred of flesh and skin connecting it.

The gold-toothed man sat trembling on the ground like struck by lightning, unable even to reach to cover his wound; if his disabled left hand let go of his right wrist, a huge spurt of blood would spray out…

By then, the gold-toothed man realized he wouldn't survive; he pressed hard on the wound on his wrist and roared in despair towards the sky…

"Kill them..."

"Bang" The third super Magnum hit right on his nose bridge.

The high-velocity bullet went straight into his face, then after bursting through his head, leaving a fist-sized hole, it passed over the mass grave, grazed the head of the little man within, and hit another militant in the thigh on the opposite side…

The gold-toothed man shuddered once and then slumped lifelessly into the pit, rolling next to the little man, his eyes indiscernible, leaving only his large gold teeth to identify him.

The little man in the pit, instinctively kicking away the gold-toothed man's head with his foot, paused for a moment and then called out excitedly in Sango, "The god of the jungle has come to save us..."

With the little man's shouting, the morale of the militants crumbled, and as they were about to abandon their wounded to save themselves, three tall figures rose 40 meters away from the ground, shedding their camouflage and opened up with their machine guns on those fellows, sounding the death knell.

Ayu in the center, 'Chainsaw' and 'Torch' each held a 5.45-caliber light machine gun at the sides, with intensive firepower they circled around the silent slave workers, blocking the militants' escape routes.

Subsequently, the pre-ambushed Assault Soldiers began to reveal themselves, picking off the frantic militants trying to counter-attack with precise shots.

This battle wasn't at all difficult; the so-called Boykin anti-government forces were just a bunch of fanatical madmen, having never received proper military training, the only thing praiseworthy about them was their brutality.

But when facing special forces, being brutal towards others wasn't enough, you also had to be brutally hard on yourself to possibly survive by betting on a death-defying spirit.

Unfortunately, those who are cruel to others often turn out to be cowards when it really matters.

The only challenge for Joe Ga and his team was to destroy the morale of these cowards, letting the word 'escape' invade their brains, completely depriving them of the ability to think, so these cowards couldn't even muster the courage to fight back, making it easy to take down these dozens of people.

Otherwise, if they banded together and charged in one direction, some of them might actually have escaped.

The four snipers and Qiao did an excellent job completing their mission.

First, they wounded the gold-toothed man, causing them to inadvertently deplete their magazines in the counterattack, then used death to show that fighting back was futile, followed by 'screams' to warn them, and finally, the gold-toothed man's horrible death, along with the fear of an invisible enemy, became the last straw that broke them.

'Reaping' wasn't particularly difficult; one just had to be careful not to hit the slaves who were clumped together as if they wished they were paper-thin, making the shooting of the armed militants the easiest step.

Big Nose and Paul Scholes, the moment the fight broke out, grabbed bald Braune by the neck and rushed him outside.

Since they had always been at the outermost edge of the group, just seconds after the gunfire began, they dashed into the jungle, trying to get back to the river to escape this accursed place by rubber dinghy.

Counterattack? Out of the question!

All seasoned mercenaries, they knew exactly what to do to maximize their chances of survival in an obvious ambush situation like the one they'd just faced.

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Braune had no idea what was going on, and after running tens of meters, he wrenched himself out of Big Nose's grasp, about to curse out loud when he saw three figures, like specters, appear behind Big Nose and Paul Scholes...

Paul Scholes saw fear in Braune's eyes, and in an instant, he raised his gun and turned to pull the trigger, but those three ghostly figures were faster.

As he completed his turn, the butt of a gun found his head.

With a "thud," just before Paul Scholes blacked out, he saw both Big Nose and Braune also taken down.

Guessing at his fate, Paul Scholes mustered his last bit of willpower in an attempt to raise his hand and flip the 'Scorpion' the middle finger, provoking him to kill him off. But his hand only lifted halfway before he completely lost consciousness.

…

When Braune woke up, he found his hands raised high, bound with parachute cord to a thick horizontal branch of a big tree, standing on tiptoes, where a slight relaxation caused a tearing pain to run through his wrists.

Both Paul Scholes and Big Nose were bound at his sides, their treatment the same, yet Braune could see nothing but despair on the faces of these two mercenaries.

"Ah~"

A scream fully awakened Braune!

He widened his eyes and looked not far ahead, where a South Asian man with jungle camouflage on his face was peeling the face off one of Boykin's men with a dagger…

The method was brutal, the actions ferocious, and the wretched screams of the unfortunate soul, together with the horror of his faceless head, caused several of Boykin's men tied on the ground to soil themselves in fear, writhing like fat caterpillars and emitting meaningless wails.

The Sri Lankan 'Poison Wolf', like an assembly line worker, tossed the torn-off face into a pit of corpses, then deftly stabbed the dagger into each of the limbs of the now deformed man, before stuffing dirt into his skull's mouth and kicking him into the pit.

When the unfortunate man rolled into the pit to join his comrades, he was still alive.

Unfortunately, he could no longer make any sound, only writhing amongst the piles of bodies, desperately banging his head against any hard surface.

He had been frightened into madness, and death was the only way to ease his pain and fear.

Braune just glanced at the scene in the pit and wet his pants in fear.

He had been to this place twice, and in the past, it had only been slaves lying in there—objects that he did not consider human—so he only felt disgusted, but if he avoided greasy food before coming, it felt bearable.

But this time was different. Boykin's golden-toothed men and mercenaries, most of them, lay in there. Some were not yet completely dead, writhing and struggling in the stench of the heaping corpses, emitting silent screams, begging for a swift death. This scene quickly broke Braune's mental defenses, making him scream miserably as though he could feel their pain.

The ruthless 'Poison Wolf' grabbed another militant, performing the same brutal interrogation.

Hearing Braune's roar, he looked up briefly, then emotionlessly lowered his head, pulling the militant's neck, and using his blood-stained hand to gesture on a map smeared with blood.

No translation was necessary; all the previously deceased had aided in filling the gaps on 'Poison Wolf's hand-drawn map. Anyone unable to provide constructive information ended up having their face peeled off and thrown into the pit of corpses.

If you honestly confessed what you know, you might get a swift end.

This militant knew he was doomed, but he didn't want to die in too much pain, so like a student nearing exams, he stared at the hand-drawn map on the ground, seemingly found something after looking for a while, and then lay on the ground, screaming and desperately pointing with his chin at a location...

'Poison Wolf' couldn't understand what the man was saying, but Karman next to him could.

The old man gave a slight nod, indicating that the militant was likely telling the truth—there was a trail leading upstream to Boykin's camp.

Watching 'Poison Wolf' decisively slit the poor guy's throat and shove him into the pit, and as 'Poison Wolf' was ready to continue, Karman shook his head and said, "That's enough. These White Ghosts are awake now. Kill those people, and call the boss over."

Braune, looking into Karman's yellowed eyes, felt his scalp go numb as if a small animal had met its natural predator.

The bald man let out a piercing scream, like a duck caught by the throat…

"Don't come any closer~"

Then, turning to Big Nose and Paul Scholes, who were silent beside him, he shouted loudly, "Think of something, think of something…"

Big Nose, his face covered in blood, gave a mocking sneer and said, "We're done for!"n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Listening to this, Braune collapsed and cried out, "Don't be like that, don't be like that, think of something, think of something…"

Big Nose shook his head and said, "You might be of some use; if you can hold on, you might live a little longer.

If they question you first, remember to hold on. The longer you last, the longer we live."

Braune, seeing Karman and 'Poison Wolf' turning their gaze towards him, struggled violently, shouting at Big Nose, who had 'betrayed' him, "And then what~"

Paul Scholes, looking at several figures approaching from a distance, spoke in a hoarse voice, "If you can't hold on, confess. Once you're done, you're dead!

I shouldn't have restrained myself earlier. I should have just killed you right away; otherwise…"