Bright Sword: Conquer the monk at the beginning and take down Zhou Weiguo

"How are you planning to get in?" Liu San gripped the sniper again. "I'll distract the sentries on the left within two seconds of you jumping out. I'll need three seconds to take care of the two on the right."

"I know." Qin Cang whispered, squatting down and rechecking the dagger on his leg, the pliers at his waist, and the explosives fuse. Every movement he made was terrifyingly steady, like a machine, without any unnecessary effort.

"I'll go down the north ventilation shaft." He looked up at a distant mound almost hidden by vines. It was the location he had confirmed through the telescope. "There's a wellhead there, probably a backup ventilation pipe. It's just big enough for one person to pass through."

Liu San snorted: "Are you planning to dig a rat hole?"

"They won't be in that important position." Qin Cang's eyes flashed with a hint of cruelty, "But there must be a trap. I have to take this gamble."

He stood up, his whole body like a sharp blade drawn from the night. Liu San looked at him and suddenly asked in a low voice: "Do you really think it's worth it? We don't even know what's hidden down there."

"They shouldn't be doing this kind of thing in this forest." Qin Cang's tone was calm, but colder than the wind. "I must know what they are hiding. And... our brothers were taken in."

When he uttered these words, a hidden sharpness flashed in his eyes—it was not anger, nor sadness, but a deep sense of responsibility, a heaviness that could only be carried in his bones.

Liu San didn't ask any more questions. He just raised his sniper rifle, aimed at the lighthouse post outside the bunker below, and slowly pressed the trigger.

Qin Cang nodded slightly and took a deep breath.

"Start the timer."

"clear."

"Fifteen seconds."

"enough."

As soon as the words fell, gunshots ripped through the night sky—a muffled thud, and then the spotlight on the lighthouse exploded with a "chi" sound, glass scattering, and the bright light suddenly went out. Almost at the same time, another gunshot followed, hitting the iron door of the south guardhouse with a deafening bang!

There was chaos outside the bunker. The sentry shouted loudly, the alarm sounded, and the red warning beam swept through the woods, but failed to capture any figure.

Qin Cang moved.

Like a shadow, he leaped from the top of the slope, sliding down the dirt slope into the dense forest, his figure moving like a ghost among the vines. He never looked back—never needed to. He knew Liu San would do as he said, with precision, ruthlessness, and every detail.

A brush scratched his arm, a thin streak of blood snaking out, but he was unaware. He was completely immersed in the task, his nerves tense as bows, his senses amplified, and even the vibration of a falling pine needle was clearly evident.

The ventilation shaft was right in front of him, covered with a piece of iron mesh and surrounded by old vines and dead branches. He reached out and pulled the iron mesh open, then quickly leaned in.

The shaft was narrow, muddy and water seeping into his boots, making it slippery and difficult to navigate. He crawled in inch by inch, his shoulders scraped raw and his knees numb from the impact. With each inch he moved forward, his heart grew calmer, his breathing subdued, even his heartbeat seemingly deliberately slowing.

The shaft was filled with a damp, musty smell, and a certain unsettling odor—metal, grease, and a hint of burning electricity burning through plastic. This smell indicated one thing: at the other end of this tunnel was the core area of ​​operation.

While crawling, he suddenly stopped.

At the end of the well, a very subtle sound could be heard faintly - like light footsteps, or like someone was looking out of the well.

Qin Cang's eyes darkened.

He knew who it was.

"Xiao Hu..." He sighed quietly in his heart, but didn't turn around. He didn't dare make a sound, for fear of attracting the patrols or revealing his location. But he knew that if Xiao Hu really followed him, he would never leave easily.

He couldn't hear what they were saying. Amidst the iron pipes, steel walls, concrete, and thick distance, Qin Cang could only infer the situation through their postures and movements. His eyes were sharp, his mind racing—he couldn't stay in this position for long. If he did, there was no guarantee someone outside the well would notice something was amiss. Furthermore, Xiao Hu wasn't sure where he was hiding. If he rashly followed, the consequences would be disastrous.

He slowly retreated to the middle of the tunnel, found a slightly wider spot, and crouched down, leaning his weight low against the wall. He deliberately slowed each breath, as if to completely merge with the darkness. This wasn't his first infiltration mission, but this one was different. This wasn't just a mission; it was a reconnaissance mission, a stab at the enemy's heart. He couldn't fail, and he didn't dare fail.

However, just as he was thinking about his next stealth route, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach.

He gritted his teeth. His stomach was empty; he hadn't eaten all day. Pre-trip preparations had been rushed, and given the uncertainty of the terrain, he hadn't dared to bring much—aside from a water bottle and a small piece of compressed rations, which he had fed to the greedy little tiger before entering the well. At this moment, he had to admit that even the strongest willpower couldn't overcome the warnings of his body.

"Nothing can go wrong." He whispered to himself, as if to warn himself, and also as if to suppress the unreasonable vanity in himself.

Suddenly, an idea struck him and he thought of a possibility - firewood.

Not for making a fire, not for keeping warm, but for disguise.

He raised his head and looked towards the wellhead.

From the outside, this bunker looked like a fortress disguised in abandoned woodland, but in reality, the structure underneath was terrifyingly sophisticated. If he could find firewood, fallen leaves, or even half-dry branches outside the bunker, he could create some signs of natural life—even if they were simply piled near the wellhead, it would confuse the evacuee and cover up any signs of use.

It wasn't a whim, but he had read a message from the two patrolmen's subtle movements—they kept their eyes fixed on the perimeter, yet occasionally glanced back. Those subconscious glances back weren't about suspicion of the wellhead, but rather about vigilance against someone approaching from further away. This meant their vigilance didn't extend to the wellhead itself.

"It's okay to take a risk."

He murmured softly, turned around, and quietly crawled back the way he had come. His movements were extremely steady, his knees making almost no sound, until he was close to the well mouth, then he slowly leaned out of the passage.

The wind was still blowing outside, bringing a hint of night coolness.

He cautiously poked his head out and glanced around. After making sure no one was around, he slowly climbed out of the shaft, gently covering the metal mesh with the net, and then used a few vines to hold it in place. He didn't leave immediately, but crouched down and moved forward through the bushes, his body almost sliding along the fallen leaves as he slowly and precisely headed towards the other side of the forest.