Strongest Soldier King

Around eight or nine o'clock, the bustling city of Beijing became lively. Countless energetic people left their homes, either to shop or visit bars, in groups of three or five. They added some vitality to this ancient city. Wood was one of them. As one of the special agents dispatched by Sam Country to Huaxia Country, Wood was responsible for collecting intelligence on medical aspects. Graduating from a renowned medical school in Sam Country, Wood had a public identity as an anesthetist at Huaxia Country's Capital Hospital.

An hour ago, Wood received a secret order to assassinate a couple. Wood looked at their photo, a very ordinary couple, but as a secret special agent, Wood had no choice and did not ask why. Completing the mission meant he could return to his country, which was Wood's pursuit.

It was already off-duty time, and Wood dressed neatly, went downstairs, and walked towards the hospital. As a doctor, going to the hospital at any time would not attract attention. He walked out of the neighborhood gate and adjusted his proper suit, intending to hail a taxi, and when he saw a familiar security guard approaching, he did not forget to greet him friendly.

At this moment, a cement truck roared past at a high speed without any intention of slowing down. Wood stood at the neighborhood gate, two meters away from the street, and didn't care. Even a driver with poor skills would not deviate this far from the main road? Wood chatted leisurely with the security guard, appearing relaxed.

Soon, Wood noticed the cement truck suddenly accelerated, swerved sharply towards him. He was greatly shocked and couldn't dodge in time, feeling a horrific impact on his body, which flew backward. Mid-air, his consciousness drifted away.

"Could I be dying?" Wood flashed this unbelievable thought and his vision went dark, consciousness falling into an endless abyss, soon knowing nothing.

The cement truck hit and sent Wood flying without slowing down. It swerved sharply, leaving the scene. The security guard was dumbfounded and reacted too late, hurriedly rushing to check the situation, finding Wood already dead, quickly pulling out his phone to call the police. The operator politely asked for details.

The security guard briefly explained, but couldn't clarify the cement truck's license plate. The situation was urgent, and he hadn't noticed at all. After trying to recall, he still couldn't remember the plate number, vaguely feeling the cement truck had no license plate at all. The neighborhood gate lacked monitoring equipment, and upon learning the situation, the operator told the security guard to wait at the gate as a witness and said police would be sent over immediately.

...

In front of a bar, many alluringly dressed women were lingering, smoking, and some security guards were vigilantly watching the surroundings. The bar's doors were closed tight, and a heart-pounding heavy metal music leaked from the cracks. At this moment, a BMW arrived, stopped at the entrance, and a refined middle-aged man stepped out. His name was Du Fang, a Chinese national investing in Huaxia Country for two years. His career was thriving, but behind him was a secret agent from Sam Country, responsible for collecting electronic technology intelligence.

This bar was a frequent haunt for Du Fang. Many security guards knew Du Fang. One enthusiastically ran up, took the keys Du Fang tossed him, and assisted with parking. Du Fang, smiling, walked inside, a routine he's done many times, trusting the parking security guard.

Du Fang entered the bar, skillfully navigating to the private room he'd reserved beforehand. Two familiar hostesses awaited him inside, efficiently inviting Du Fang to sit in the middle, flanking him left and right. Du Fang smoothly uttered "the usual," and the room attendant promptly left to fetch the liquor.

Soon, a bottle of whiskey was placed before Du Fang, and the attendant proficiently poured the drink for him. Du Fang suspected nothing, raised his glass to clink it with the two hostesses, everything proceeding as usual. After drinking, Du Fang chatted and laughed with the hostesses, singing and unwittingly ingesting half a bottle of poison-tainted whiskey.

Suddenly, Du Fang felt his eyelids grow heavy, a wave of drowsiness rising within him, catching him off guard. This phenomenon never occurred before. Du Fang knew his own alcohol tolerance well, growing deeply suspicious. Standing up, he suddenly found his legs weak, collapsing onto the sofa, unable to move but fully aware.

"What's happening?" Du Fang shouted in panic.

The room's music continued playing, the hostesses also collapsed onto the sofa, unable to move. The attendant ignored Du Fang, quietly leaving, soon after, several burly men entered, injecting the hostesses, who quickly regained consciousness, receiving a wad of cash before leaving hastily.

Seeing this, Du Fang immediately realized he was being set up, and shouted, "Brother, spare me, name a price!"

A burly man glanced coldly at Du Fang, picked up a syringe, jabbed it into Du Fang's vein, injecting a black fluid into him. Du Fang wore a content expression, quickly falling asleep. The man pocketed the syringe and coldly ordered, "Dump him in a stinking sewer."

"Understood." Two men replied simultaneously, carrying Du Fang away from the private room hastily, while the man coldly watched Du Fang's retreating figure. A smile formed on his lips, inwardly remarking, "An overdose death is too easy for you, didn't expect you to be a spy, truly appearances can be deceiving."

...

The actions organized by Ghost Hand began, various assassinations took place under the cover of night. Those on the list were all targeted, arranged to die in various accidents. Even if clues were inadvertently exposed, there was no fear, everyone felt extremely excited about eliminating spies for the country, feeling exceptionally honorable.

However, Ghost Hand, responsible for the matter, was lounging in a hospital chatting leisurely with a beautiful nurse. Ghost Hand hadn't expected the nurse to be an old classmate, which provided ample conversation topics. This sight made Snow Leopard feel disgruntled and went off to tend to Luo Hu and his wife.

Lan Xue opened the door and entered just as the nurse was changing Ghost Hand's dressing, seeing them chatting happily, she couldn't help but tease, "Oh, living the leisurely life, aren't you?"

"Who are you?" The nurse looked at Lan Xue in surprise, stunned by Lan Xue's extraordinary aura.

"Old classmate, you continue, this is my boss," Ghost Hand quickly explained.

Usually, 'boss' refers to a direct superior, but socially among many young people, 'boss' can mean 'wife.' The nurse looked at Lan Xue with some doubt, feeling inferior and glanced at Ghost Hand with a resentful look, huffed and left, leaving Lan Xue baffled. Quickly, though, she put the nurse aside and asked concernedly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What's the situation outside now?" Ghost Hand asked with a smile.

"Your deployment was excellent, constant good news arriving; those spies we pinpointed are being eliminated one by one, all appearing as accidents. It seems those thugs aren't entirely useless, crucial to use them correctly. By the way, recover your injuries quickly—headquarters has matters waiting for us, delay and you might miss out." Lan Xue praised, seeing Ghost Hand wasn't critically injured, she breathed a sigh of relief.