A desolate valley in Afghanistan.

The surrounding view is good, and almost all of them are bandanas, and ragged men roaming around, armed with AK47, a classic firearm that has been a bestseller for decades, and they are wary of the movement around them.

The militants in charge of the guard did not notice that several of them were approaching them like ghosts, creeping up from different directions, almost silently but very quickly.

When an armed man took out a crumpled homemade cigarette from his arms and stuffed it into his mouth, lowered his head and lit it, his feet were hugged by the quietly approaching Grim Reaper, pulled back, and his whole body fell down.

In less than a second, a life is lost.

The person who succeeded in the sneak attack continued to crawl forward, his grim expression did not move at all, and he killed like a dog.

At about the same time, several other guard posts were all killed, and the ghost-like fierce men made their way down the valley, and no militants could stop them for even a second or two, before they even had time to warn their companions.

More than a dozen military tents in the valley form a secret training camp, and the more than 100 people who come here for special training will soon return to the ancient country of the East to proclaim the greatness of Allah with the bloody methods they have learned, and awaken the people who are immersed in a comfortable life to wage holy war for independence.

When the people in the training camp noticed that the five figures were touching in and the guys, no one could have imagined that they would never have a chance to return to the East.

It was the man who pierced the back of the militant with a saber, the first to kill into the chaotic crowd, fighting at close range, he did not draw a gun, holding two military daggers in both hands, to be more precise, two American-style military stabs, in the process of rushing forward, I saw a guy holding the AK47 to hold the trigger, he threw out a military thorn, impartially shot into the center of the opponent's eyebrows, two or three meters away, pierced the skull, and the strength of the hand was terrifying.

The militant who was hit by the knife, due to the huge impact force, the body leaned back sharply, but before he fell to the ground, the man who seemed to kill the god had quickly approached, pulled out the military thorn, the other hand was not idle, the general stabbed into the heart of the nearest enemy, at the same time, the military spur pulled out from the center of the dead man's eyebrows, just burst a machete smashed on the top of his head, and then wiped the main artery of the neck of the knife wielder, the technique is sophisticated, the timing is extremely accurate.

Flutter!

Blood splatters.

The sword-wielding man collapsed with wide eyes in disbelief.

It seems that the dead people have a question in their hearts, why the people who killed them moved so quickly and so ruthlessly.

This man in a desert camouflage uniform was really like a tiger entering a flock, his arms flew up, or stabbed or blocked, or picked or chopped, and he killed a few back and forth in a crowd of dozens of people, leaving a corpse, holding a pool of blood horizontally, and when he stopped, there were no living people around ten meters.

He looked around the camp indifferently, and the four people who had come with him had already entered, making the scene even more chaotic.

On a simple lookout platform made of logs in the camp, a militant desperately used an M2 Browning heavy machine gun to fire wildly, rows of bullets stirred up smoke and dust on the sand and gravel floor of the valley, and the man holding the military thorn with both hands smiled fiercely, not avoiding the counterattack.

He was as fast as a cunning rabbit, quickly approaching the lookout in a serpentine running course, and a barrage of 12.7mm bullets followed his path to blow up shocking smoke and dust, but unfortunately he couldn't do anything, and he had avoided the sniping of the world's top snipers in similar ways many times.

The militants who shot at the lookout in a hurry could not help him.

The two militants under the lookout were panicked and faced with the chaotic scene, looking left and right to distinguish between friend and foe in the flow of people running around, when they suddenly noticed that someone was killing and hurriedly raised their guns.

It's late.

The killer jumped into the air with a quick run, swung out a spur with a large swing of his arm, and shot the machine gunner who was strafing from a high position, and the huge inertia caused the machine heavy to roll backwards off the lookout and fall into the dust.

At the same time as he shot one person, his male body flew more than three meters, his thick right leg swept out in the air, and the powerful soles of his feet swept over the heads of the two militants, instantly breaking their cervical vertebrae.

The murderous creature did not stop, and after landing on the ground, he jumped high with the inertia of rushing forward, supported the log of the lookout on tiptoes, and reached the fence of the lookout with both hands, and quickly flipped into the lookout with both arms, and operated the M2 Browning machine gun to pull the bolt.

Killing several people in a row, flying on stage, operating guns, a series of actions in one go, clean and neat, and the fierce skills seem to be born for killing.

The 12.7 mm M2 heavy machine gun roared again, the difference was that the target was much clearer than just now, and the militants and specially trained people in the training camp fell one by one, as if they had been invisibly harvested wheat, and several people were shot in succession and were shattered.

The 12.7mm bullet pierces **, it is by no means as simple as leaving a bullet hole, a bullet twice the speed of sound penetrates deep into the human body to produce a huge cone-shaped shock wave, and three or two bullets can tear a strong adult at the waist.

On the lookout, the indifferent guy was like a bottle of death, mercilessly harvesting human lives, obviously accustomed to the bloody scene of blood splashing and limbs messy, until there were no more living enemies in the training camp in the valley, he stopped shooting, and looked around the audience condescendingly.

Like a proud wolf king, appreciate the results of a successful hunt.

"Chief, a total of one hundred and fifty-seven people, all wiped out, and there are no survivors."

The tiny communication device stuffed in the man's ears came out of a clear voice, and he couldn't see any expression fluctuations on his oil-painted cheeks, and said lightly: "You guys clean it up carefully, you must not miss a single one, this is our last mission, I don't want to go wrong." ”

After the man finished speaking, he jumped directly from the lookout, more than four meters high, and when he landed, he only bent his hind legs slightly, and then strode forward, like a god descending from the earth.

He walked to a water storage tank in the camp, the rusty tank body was punched by a heavy machine gun bullet and sprayed water, he squatted down, washed his blood-stained hands, and then washed off the oil paint that covered his face, revealing a resolute and handsome face, it was Yang Chen.

After washing his face, Yang Chen, who had never smoked, lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly.

If a woman's love for cigarettes is a kind of poignancy and loneliness, then a man falling in love with cigarettes is helpless, and it is a kind of cold that is more suffocating than poignant.

Yang Chen is like this.

After two and a half years of evaporation from the world, plus two and a half years in the army, and five years in the world, he is already twenty-one years old and has tasted the tribulations of the world and the baptism of life and death again and again.

Smoke turned into ashes little by little at Yang Chen's fingertips, leaving a little loneliness, a little sigh and unyielding for the impermanence of life, this kind of smell can never be pretended to be by those little children who pretend to be smoke.

Even though Yang Chen was squatting and smoking at this time, his back was still majestic.

"Boss, it's cleaned up, and there are no mistakes."

Before the words fell, four men as powerful as Yang Chen gathered over and looked at Yang Chen's gaze, as if a believer was so pious.

Yang Chen looked around at his brother who accompanied him from birth to death, nodded, and said quietly: "The final task is complete, I can finally go home." ”