Chapter 039: Launching the Intercontinental Missile

Zhao Ming, failing to land his strike, narrowly dodged Li Xiangyang’s lethal blow and swiftly widened the distance between them.

Li Xiangyang, having missed his attack, did not immediately pursue Zhao Ming with relentless aggression; instead, he stood firmly in place. After all, compared to Zhao Ming, he only had one chance left—he couldn’t afford to be reckless.

Huang Feng watched their exchange, and to his eyes, their deadly struggle was no more than a childish brawl. Perhaps for the two men in the arena, it was a battle of life and death, but for Huang Feng, their so-called mortal combat lacked any real skill—hardly worthy of being called a fight.

He mused silently, “Though these two have undergone multiple enhancements, and one of their basic attributes has surpassed the limits of ordinary men, I doubt they could even best a properly trained soldier.” Of course, by trained soldier, he meant those who had undergone rigorous military training—not the parade-ground types who merely march and pose.

Zhao Ming looked at Li Xiangyang and said, “Uncle Li, you truly are a veteran. The nickname ‘Mad Sheep of Third Street’—I’ve long heard tales of your ruthlessness, and the rumors are true. If I hadn’t reacted quickly just now, I would have fallen into your trap.”

The “Mad Sheep of Third Street” was the name Li Xiangyang earned in his youth on Third Street, famed for his savage tenacity. He appeared gentle, but when he snapped, he was wild and fearless.

Zhao Ming, knife in hand, rushed forward again, adopting a strategy of trading blows, forcing Li Xiangyang to dodge repeatedly. When faced with a mortal threat, anyone can fight with abandon.

Zhao Ming possessed two opportunities for full restorative treatment, so his current fighting style disregarded his own injuries—he was intent on tearing a piece from his opponent.

Li Xiangyang’s expression remained calm, his eyes locked onto Zhao Ming. He knew he couldn’t compete in agility or speed, but if he found an opening, his strength would be enough to cripple Zhao Ming—or even kill him outright.

After several desperate exchanges, both men were bleeding. Zhao Ming’s wounds were more numerous, for he barely defended himself.

Their vicious struggle finally made the fight worth watching, in Huang Feng’s eyes.

Zhao Ming once more abandoned defense, charging in with his knife. Li Xiangyang’s gaze chilled; he endured the incoming strike, grasped Zhao Ming’s right arm with both hands, and with a mighty roar, snapped the entire limb, exposing a bloodthirsty madness.

Zhao Ming screamed in agony. Amid the overwhelming pain, just as he was about to faint, he used one of his full restorative treatments. The cries stopped abruptly. Moments before, Zhao Ming had lost an arm and nearly collapsed from pain; yet in the next instant, he stood whole again, his new right arm indistinguishable from the old—except for its pristine cleanliness, free of any stains.

Li Xiangyang, still holding Zhao Ming’s severed arm and howling in triumph, caught sight of Zhao Ming, fully restored, and his excitement ceased.

Without a word, Zhao Ming lunged again, tackling Li Xiangyang to the ground. Madness filled his eyes. Though the military knife had vanished, he paid it no mind, screamed wildly, and bit into Li Xiangyang’s neck.

Nearby, Huang Feng stood up, witnessing the scene.

Zhao Ming bit down with force, tearing a chunk of flesh from Li Xiangyang’s neck. Blood drenched his face, making him look terrifying.

Li Xiangyang, still gripping Zhao Ming’s hand, summoned his strength to break Zhao Ming’s palm once more, preparing to sever it completely. But at that moment, a piercing scream escaped his lips, and his arm slackened, strength fading.

Li Xiangyang stared desperately at the frenzied Zhao Ming. In the end, his memory held only Zhao Ming’s mad bites at his neck, his gaze vacant, life extinguished.

The arena was filled only with Zhao Ming’s anguished screams—not out of remorse for Li Xiangyang’s death, but from the acute pain of his shattered hand, hanging by a mere tendon.

Huang Feng approached with cold indifference. “Congratulations on surviving. From now on, you’ll follow me.”

Zhao Ming’s heart soared at the words. He used his last remaining full restorative treatment. His cries ceased; he spat out a piece of bloody flesh and stood as if nothing had happened. Apart from some blood and dirt, there was no sign of injury—his vigor at its peak.

Huang Feng, frowning at Zhao Ming’s filthy appearance, said, “Go wash up in the creek. I have matters to discuss with you.”

Zhao Ming nodded. “Yes, big brother.”

He turned toward the creek, his gaze now devoid of past weakness or fear, replaced by ruthless determination. His transformation had occurred in just those few minutes of life-and-death struggle.

Huang Feng watched Zhao Ming’s retreating figure, a mocking smile on his lips, then returned to the campfire to continue eating roast meat.

Day 22 since the start of the game, a little after 11 p.m.

JL Province, Huaxia.

Deep in the Changbai Mountains, at a large military base.

The heavy iron gate rumbled open.

Two figures entered through the doorway—Huang Feng and Zhao Ming. They had now formed a team, and Huang Feng had obtained the mysterious reward Zhao Ming received for his first kill: the Speed chapter of Basic Guidance Techniques.

Feeling pleased, Huang Feng, to reassure Zhao Ming and ensure his compliance, shared the Physical chapter of Basic Guidance Techniques with him.

Neither chapter could yield immediate results; an ordinary person would need at least a week or two to learn and master them.

After exchanging their fragments of Basic Guidance Techniques, Huang Feng led Zhao Ming through mountains and valleys to this place.

He found the light switch and pressed it, flooding the once-dark room with brightness.

Zhao Ming stared in awe at the dense array of electronic devices, large display screens, and numerous control buttons—utterly stunned, as though he’d never seen such things. “Brother Feng, what is this place?”

Huang Feng, delighted by the untouched state of the operations center, replied with a smile, “This is the operations command center. I’ve visited a few times for study—still the same, nothing has changed.”

“Operations command center?”

Zhao Ming was astonished. He knew his newly acknowledged ruthless leader was once a soldier, but now he realized he was no ordinary soldier. Ordinary soldiers would never have access to such things.

He was elated; following such a figure, he believed he could survive this ten-year death-hunt game to the end.

Huang Feng ignored Zhao Ming, merely instructing him to watch and not touch anything without permission. He then proceeded to activate and adjust each piece of equipment.

One by one, the screens lit up, including the large display hanging at the front.

The screen showed a world map, with major cities in every country marked.

Half an hour later.

Huang Feng, now familiar with the equipment, checked the missile inventory—there were 1,142 controllable intercontinental missiles with nuclear warheads, and tens of thousands of ordinary missiles.

Seeing these numbers, he became excited; his long-planned scheme could finally be set in motion.

Each launch could control up to 100 missiles.

Huang Feng began to set the targets for 100 nuclear-tipped intercontinental missiles, aiming at important cities in countries other than Huaxia.

It took him over an hour just to select the target cities. He adjusted the tracking map to global scale, comparing which cities had the densest survivors.

Once everything was ready, only the launch button remained.

If the 100 nuclear missiles struck successfully, at least half of the 10,000 chosen by the divine would die—an immediate culling of more than 5,000.

The thought alone thrilled him.

Huang Feng didn’t want to press the button himself; he hesitated, then turned to Zhao Ming. He had kept Zhao Ming for this very moment; otherwise, after obtaining the Speed chapter, he would have disposed of him.

He first changed Zhao Ming’s status in his smart assistant from friend to stranger, then said coldly, “Zhao Ming, come here.”

“Yes, Brother Feng.”

Zhao Ming responded without suspicion and approached.

Huang Feng asked, “Do you follow my orders no matter what?”

Without hesitation, Zhao Ming replied, “Yes, Brother Feng. Just tell me what to do.”

Huang Feng nodded. “Go press that button.”

Zhao Ming glanced suspiciously at the button, knowing it couldn’t be anything good—otherwise, it wouldn’t be his job. Although his heart was full of reluctance and curses for Huang Feng’s entire family, he showed obedience and pressed the button.

Huang Feng hurried forward, pushed Zhao Ming aside, and checked to ensure the launch was successful. Only then did he relax.

Zhao Ming cautiously asked, “Brother Feng, what’s this button for?”

A cold glint flashed in Huang Feng’s eyes; he considered killing Zhao Ming immediately, but decided to keep him for now, to see what would happen after the nuclear strikes. For the moment, he needed Zhao Ming fully under control.

Without hesitation, Huang Feng struck first. To Zhao Ming’s terror and confusion, Huang Feng quickly dislocated all his limbs, then bound him tightly with thumb-thick steel chains, preparing him for any eventuality.

If the nuclear strike succeeded, and over 5,000 people were killed in one blow, the divine reward for Zhao Ming would be unimaginable—so Huang Feng had to restrain him fully.

Huang Feng resolved that once the mass reduction of the chosen participants began, he would eliminate Zhao Ming immediately.

He checked the time—it was nearly 1 a.m.

Depending on the distance, the nearest target was the Stick Nation, and it would take at least half an hour to see the results. For now, he could only wait.

After his fit of screaming, Zhao Ming glared angrily at Huang Feng and shouted, “Huang Feng, what are you doing? I did as you told me—why are you treating me like this?”

He continued to curse Huang Feng, often insulting his entire family.

Huang Feng merely glanced at him, a flash of murderous intent in his eyes, but said nothing—he simply found some tape and sealed Zhao Ming’s mouth.