Special Forces: At the beginning, An Ran pulled him to get his certificate.

The damp, chilly air at the edge of the jungle contrasted sharply with the scorching heat and heavy smell of gunpowder emanating from the camp behind them. After kicking Lao Wen away, Chen Jun's gaze quickly swept over the team members gathered there.

"Is anyone injured?" His voice returned to its usual calm, showing no trace of the bloody massacre and earth-shattering explosion he had just experienced.

Lu Da immediately stepped forward and reported in a low voice: "Report, Wang Hao's left arm was grazed by a ricocheting bullet, a superficial wound, which has been simply bandaged. The others are unharmed."

Upon hearing this, Chen Jun nodded slightly, his gaze lingering for a moment on the team member whose arm was wrapped in bandages yet still stood upright—a silent affirmation. Such a zero-casualty result (only one minor injury) amidst such a fierce attack and subsequent chaos was sufficient proof of the "spearhead" team's well-trained and efficient operation.

He turned to face the manor, now a sea of ​​fire and ruins. Explosions were still occurring sporadically, likely igniting some flammable or explosive materials. Towering flames dyed half the sky an eerie orange-red, and thick smoke billowed, obscuring the starlight. Cries, wails, and the rumble of collapsing buildings echoed faintly from the depths of the flames, like a lament from hell.

From the very beginning, Chen Jun had no intention of letting anyone from this drug den leave alive—except for the informant that Lao Wen had sent away beforehand. Assassinating "General" Jiang Tianxiong alone would have been easy for him, but doing so would only have cut off the head of a cancerous tumor. Its vast roots and branches (still existing, and would soon be resurrected under the leadership of a new "General," continuing to wreak havoc everywhere) would remain.

What he wanted was a thorough "cleaner," to uproot everything and to deter all the restless demons and monsters.

"Where ghosts roam, nothing grows." This is not just a rumor, but a true reflection of his style of doing things.

"Boss, what's the next plan? Shall we retreat?" Old Wen rubbed his backside as he climbed out of the bushes, approached Chen Jun, and asked in a low voice, looking at the sea of ​​fire. In his view, the mission objective had been killed, the main stronghold destroyed, and the operation a great success; it was time to consider a safe withdrawal.

Chen Jun did not answer immediately. He squinted, watching the struggling figures in the firelight and the collapsing buildings, a cold glint flashing deep in his eyes, like a sharp blade drawn from its sheath.

"To cut the weeds, you must pull them out by the roots." He slowly uttered six words, his voice calm, yet containing an undeniable killing intent.

After saying that, to everyone's astonishment, Chen Jun actually started walking back, not towards the safer depths of the jungle, but towards the ruins of the camp that were still exploding, burning, and filled with the threat of death!

The towering flames reflected off his dust- and blood-stained combat uniform, casting his tall figure long on the ground behind him. The flickering flames on his cold profile made him look less like a soldier who had just completed a killing mission and more like a death statue emerging from a fiery hell, coldly surveying all living beings.

After a brief silence.

"Shh!"

Behind them, Lu Da, Zhang Tie, Wang Chao… all the “Sharp Knife” members, even Lao Wen and You Junda, without any hesitation or doubt, simultaneously raised their weapons and followed silently and resolutely. The sound of footsteps echoed on the soft earth, uniform and carrying a silent chill.

No orders are needed, no explanations are required. If the boss says to eliminate all traces, then eliminate them. If the boss goes to hell, they follow.

Just do it and that's it.

The group returned to the outskirts of the camp. The three-meter-high brick and stone wall had collapsed in many places in the explosion, and burning wood and twisted metal components were scattered all over the ground, forming bonfires. The air was filled with the stench of burning flesh and the pungent smell of burning chemicals.

From inside the camp, figures struggled, cried out, and tumbled out of the inferno and ruins. Some were engulfed in flames, screaming and rolling; some were missing limbs, dragging their broken bodies; and many more had faces covered in soot, their expressions terrified, wanting only to escape this place that had suddenly become a hell on earth.

Chen Jun stood at a gap in the collapsed wall, which seemed to be the last gate between life and death.

He watched as the first armed man staggered out of the inferno, his face beaming with the ecstasy of surviving a disaster.

"boom!"

A crisp gunshot.

The militant's ecstasy froze on his face, a bloody hole appeared between his eyebrows, and he fell backward, the life in his eyes quickly extinguished.

Chen Jun stood like the most ruthless gatekeeper, his golden AK steadily pointed at the gap. He didn't stay in one place, but moved around the gap in a small area, as elusive as a ghost, but the muzzle of his gun always blocked the escape route.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The bursts of fire were steady and rhythmic; with each shot, a militant attempting to escape inevitably fell to the ground. No matter which direction they came from or what posture they adopted, they could not escape the bullets, which were as precise as surgical blades.

The "sharp knife" team members following Chen Jun quickly dispersed to the other collapsed gaps and possible escape routes, silently raising their guns. Unlike Chen Jun, they didn't pursue absolutely precise headshots, but instead, in an efficient and ruthless manner, eliminated every life escaping the inferno. Gunshots rang out sporadically from different directions in the camp, mingling with the crackling of flames, the rumble of collapsing buildings, and the cries of the dying, forming a cruel final symphony.

They were like the "lord of the domain" inspecting the territory they had just conquered, calmly cleaning up the last impurities.

Not long after, at a corner of the ruins where the fire had subsided and thick smoke was billowing, Chen Jun's gaze locked onto a small group of people. Although they were equally disheveled, covered in soot and coughing incessantly, they appeared more organized than the other scattered soldiers fleeing for their lives. The group formed a loose defensive circle, tightly protecting the person in the middle.

The man in the middle is the general's son.

He seemed to be lucky, or perhaps his guards really did risk their lives to protect him. Despite the violent explosion and chaos, apart from his face being blackened by smoke and his clothes being somewhat torn, he didn't appear to have suffered any serious injuries.

Coughing violently, Ah Feng, supported by his guards, stumbled out of the thick smoke, instinctively heading towards the relatively "safe" gap guarded by Chen Jun and his men. When he looked up and, through his smoke-reddened eyes, saw the figure standing like the Grim Reaper at the gap, wielding a golden AK, he froze, as if doused with ice water.

Eyes facing each other.

Ah Feng's expression was extremely complex. The deep-seated resentment he felt on the viewing platform, the desire to tear them to pieces, had vanished without a trace, replaced by an uncontrollable, bone-deep fear! His body trembled uncontrollably.

He watched with his own eyes how this Yan soldier single-handedly slaughtered dozens of his guards, how he killed his father right under his nose, and how he detonated a bomb, turning the entire camp, which had been built up over many years and was as impregnable as a sea of ​​fire! Dozens of "elites" left behind by his father and hundreds of armed men were no match for this man, as easily defeated as chickens and dogs!

This is not human! This is a demon! A Shura crawled out of hell!

He was afraid, truly afraid. His previous arrogance and the flames of revenge were crushed in the face of absolute power and destruction.

Several loyal guards around Ah Feng also saw Chen Jun and the group of silent, menacing men in black behind him, a formation resembling the Grim Reaper. They instinctively raised their weapons, wanting to protect their young master, but their arms trembled, and they could barely hold their guns level. They knew that resistance against this group was futile.

The boy suppressed his fear, his throat so dry he could barely speak. Looking at Chen Jun's cold, expressionless face, the image of his father's dying plea and the words, "Don't provoke the Yan people," flashed through his mind.

A faint, unrealistic hope rose in his heart, like a drowning man grasping at a straw.

He pushed away the guard's support, staggered forward a step, his voice hoarse, trembling noticeably, and pleading:

“My…my father…father said…you would let me go, right? He…he traded his life for mine…you promised him, didn’t you?”

His gaze swept over the dark mass of security bureau members behind Chen Jun, who blocked all escape routes, and his heart felt as if it were being gripped by an icy hand. He knew that if Chen Jun didn't budge, he wouldn't be able to escape today.

Chen Jun did not answer immediately, but calmly stared at the other person with his cold eyes. That gaze seemed to pierce through his fearful facade and look directly into the baseness and undying evil in the depths of his soul.

After a long silence, Chen Jun finally spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching the ears of Ah Feng and everyone present:

“Your father did indeed exchange his life for a promise.”

A glimmer of hope ignited in Ah Feng's eyes.

But Chen Jun's next words instantly extinguished that light, leaving only a chilling coldness:

"The promise was: as long as you don't provoke me or the people of Yan in the future, and behave yourself, I will let you go."

Chen Jun took a step forward, slightly raising the muzzle of the golden AK, pointing precisely at Duan Kun's forehead.

"But just now, while your father's body was still warm, what did you say to your men?"

"You said, 'From now on, if you encounter a Yan person, kill them all! Don't let a single one escape! Drain them all dry!'"

Chen Jun's voice finally carried a hint of cold mockery and an undeniable sense of judgment: "It was you who broke the promise your father made with his life."

"so……"

Chen Jun's index finger gently touched the trigger guard.

"Now, I'm sending you on your way. Go down there and tell your father in person how his son so eagerly trampled his last bit of hard work to pieces."

The color drained from Ah Feng's face instantly, leaving him feeling ice-cold, as if he had fallen into an ice cave. He stared at the dark muzzle of the gun, at the unwavering killing intent in Chen Jun's eyes, and his last shred of hope vanished.

After extreme fear comes a kind of madness driven to the brink of despair.

He suddenly tilted his head back and burst into a hysterical laugh, a laugh filled with despair and malice:

"Hahaha... Hahaha! Chen Jun! You think you've won? You think you can get away with killing me and my father, destroying this place?"

He stared intently at Chen Jun, his eyes flashing with a crazed light, and he hissed:

"The Abyss! The Abyss Organization will not let you go! They will cling to you like maggots! All of you, and your families, will be dragged into endless darkness! Just you wait! Hahaha..."

His maniacal laughter echoed above the ruins of the burning site, sounding particularly shrill and eerie.

When Chen Jun heard the word "abyss," his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, but then became even more deep and cold.