Chapter 1485 - 1486: Slim Chances of Survival
Under infrared aerial imagery, everything is laid bare.
Yet even so, no one could detect any trace of the Golden Tri-Leaf Special Forces.
On the screen, the Blue Sword Special Squad moved quietly and swiftly forward.
Following behind the Blue Sword Special Squad was the Black Shark Squad.
Ahead of them was the Silver Fox Squad, with each of the three squads roughly a kilometer apart, minding their own business.
Thus, everyone watching the surveillance video was puzzled by the unchanged shrubs and wilderness.
Johnson used his infrared pointer to highlight something beneath a shrub.
"Do you see it? There's a genetic warrior hidden here."
Johnson's infrared point indicated a spot on the screen.
Everyone strained their eyes and after a long look, found a faint human silhouette curled up like a viper among the dead leaves of the shrub.
And not far away, the Blue Sword Squad was approaching at a steady pace, unhurried, providing mutual cover in groups of three, with perfect synergy in attack and defense.
The onlookers started to sigh.
The genetic warrior's concealment method was so clever, and combined with his formidable combat prowess, it seemed the Blue Sword Squad was likely in trouble.
Although the competition had strict rules prohibiting serious injury to soldiers,
Special Forces were killing machines after all, and nearly every move they made could result in casualties.
Over time, this rule was gradually overlooked.
In the competition, as long as no heavy weapons or mass casualties were involved, the organizing committee almost didn't bother to intervene.
As the Blue Sword Squad got closer, everyone couldn't help but feel tense, eyes wide open, unblinking as they watched the genetic warrior.
Sure enough, when the Blue Sword Squad was less than five meters from the genetic warrior, he sprang up with his back arched.
His figure moved like a phantom, as fast as lightning.
Sizzle!
An electrical serpent, as thick as a bowl, appeared in the genetic warrior's hand, its blue glow flashing as it lashed toward ten Special Forces members like a flickering ribbon.
Johnson and the others watched in astonishment.
If not for witnessing it themselves, they'd never believe such powerful bioelectric currents could be harnessed by humans.
However, at that moment, a wooden club as thick as a bowl suddenly swung down from above.
The insulated club cut through the serpentine current and struck heavily on the genetic warrior's head.
A moment ago, the mighty genetic warrior toppled head-over-heels into the ground.
Hiss!
It was as if the entire crowd felt a collective toothache, sucking in cold air.
Watching the majestic, tower-like big man on the screen,
everyone could hardly believe their eyes—where did this guy come from?
His speed and strength were on par with this bioelectric-wielding genetic Special Forces warrior, yet his ruthlessness was unmatched, as if he were a professional at sapping.
Under his sapping, the unfortunate genetic warrior had become like a baseball.
The big man, having succeeded with his sap, was relentless, lunging forward with his powerful build, aiming the club directly at the genetic warrior's Heavenly Spirit Cover.
The genetic warrior shot upward with a tremendous leap, jumping over ten meters high.
The big man exhaled a mighty breath, and launched his club, hitting the genetic warrior's abdomen.
The genetic warrior cried out in anguish, plummeting from the air.
At that moment, a phantom-like figure rushed out from a distant thicket.
He caught the genetic warrior mid-air and slanted away toward the nine o'clock direction.
Whoosh!
A streak of sword light, like a rainbow shooting across the sun, burst forth from the nine o'clock direction.
The dazzling sword light made the entire screen flash with incandescent brilliance, stabbing at people's eyes painfully.
Even so, several generals resisted the urge to blink, keeping their eyes peeled on the surveillance video despite the tear-inducing glare.
Swish!
The sword light vanished as the longsword pierced into the chests of two genetic warriors.
The two genetic warriors were felled with a single stroke, blood gushing from their chests like springs as they plummeted from the air.
The genetic warriors' immense vitality exploded.
When they hit the ground, they split into two, fleeing in different directions—one east, the other west.
In the undergrowth to the east, a person stood tall, resembling a black panther, lunging at one genetic warrior's lower body.
He grasped the genetic warrior's legs and sharply twisted them into a reverse angle.
The genetic warrior let out a miserable howl as both knee joints shattered, causing him to tumble sideways.
The person showed no mercy; with a few cracking sounds, he broke both of the genetic warrior's elbow joints.
The bones piercing through muscle, exposed starkly white, caused the genetic warrior unbearable agony.
The genetic warrior had only incorporated animal genes, acquiring certain animal biological traits but still retaining pain sensation and visceral nerves.
Thus, the genetic warrior writhed in pain, suffering to the point of wanting to die.
The other genetic warrior dashed east but hadn't covered two hundred meters when a burst of blood erupted from his knees, severing both legs at the knee.
The generals watching the screen were dumbfounded as they saw in the underbrush an extremely fine, serrated alloy wire.
This wire turned into the most insidious jungle trap against an enemy fleeing at high speeds.
The legless genetic warrior, propelled by sheer momentum, crashed forward, rolling like a blood-drenched gourd.
He opened his mouth in pain, gasping, while a small figure rolled out from the underbrush.
Clutching a gleaming dagger, he plunged it directly into the heart of the genetic warrior, all the way to the hilt.
The genetic warrior's agonized scream was abruptly cut off, his eyes widening in utmost reluctance and hatred.
Finally, he clutched his heart, fell forward, rolled a few times, and stopped moving entirely.
This thrilling hunt from start to finish lasted no more than a minute.
The screen changed like lightning, with action as swift as a hare bounding, leaving no time to react.
In the command center of the Fifth Airborne Counter-Terrorism Special Forces Brigade, there was silence.
Johnson's beer glass was trembling uncontrollably, with golden beer spilling out.
He could barely stand, leaning on his chair, shaking like a leaf in a storm.
No one mocked Johnson because compared to him, the others were even worse off.
Greenson Hao squatted on the ground, clutching his head as if surrendering or terrified into paralysis.
Kakashi had wide-open eyes, his expression wooden and confused, his gaze vacant.
Behind him, Park Jung-tae shakily took out two or three blood pressure pills, popped them into his mouth, rolled his eyes a few times, and swallowed them down.
At that moment, everyone had the same thought.
Under no circumstances should anyone provoke the Huaxia Blue Sword Special Squadron—these guys are not human, they are demons!
In the base headquarters, Walker's eyes were fixed, suddenly toppling backward along with his chair.
His eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
It's Monday, time to ask for recommendations.